I am being assaulted on all sides. Holding Court-in-Exile seems to be more burdensome and perilous than I thought. Holding on to power is relatively easy; guarding the realm a bit uneasy. The past week has seen emissaries from all sides, and new sides, prancing around like a bunch of nervous courtiers not quite sure of their steps. For anyone who is actually interested, I will never, ever back down; it is not my style. And--quite frankly--public displays of feigned honor simply won't make me come back.

But--more importantly--there is a situation I can not help but action. My sister, The Countess du Barry is in danger. Reports of her death are simply fodder for the press; she is under much, more danger: The Countess Bedelia. Yes, the very same Bedelia of lore, the lore of moving in on my territory and spreading a charm more virulent than the plague. Today I received a coded cable from du Barry which couldn't have been more frightening. She was being held captive by Bedeilia at an EconoLodge in the Berkshires. Yes, and EconoLodge, or more accurately noted, the bar of an EconoLodge. I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks as I remembered du Barry's elegant dinners, the polo parties, and the fancy-dress balls. All this to end up at an EconoLodge.

It is a tough time. Jeremy is in Chile for three weeks and Riley too busy tracking down criminal records, but I summon the few remaining followers for a New Crusade to march on Transylchusetts and rescue du Barry from the clutches of evil more sinister than any infidel. But before they leave in the morning, I have hand-sewn their banner; it reads in magnificent red letters against a lemon-yellow field, "Non Vacuus Meus Sanctimonialis", which loosely translated means, "Not Without My Sister".