I have remained alone in an impossibly difficult position.
Everything is expected of me, but what power have I in my hands?
What effective, real power?
None!
Only just my own prestige and even that prestige each one of you can attack, besmirch, discredit according to your own passions.
And now as you say yourself, all your hopes are still concentrated upon my one remaining son, whose part will not be over when at 18 his nephew comes to the throne.
I built as many ramparts against dangers as I can.
But although I am eternally on guard, although my son is fundamentally clean and good, how can I prevent his being polluted, spoilt, destroyed by Romanians.
Because it comes to thus.
We, our kind will not destroy him, but what of all those disgusting little serpents lying in wait for him at every corner.