“Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” exclaimed Nivley. “No, it cannot be. No, not this, anything but this. Oh not again.”

“Nivley, what's the matter?” Patty asked, running into the room breathless.

Nivley sat staring at the phone, then finally let it slip from her fingers to clatter noisomely on the floor. “They've committed him. He's locked up. No, not him. He's not sick, he's fine.” She lunged at Patty violently grabbing her shoulders, a wild look in her eyes. “He's no more crazy than I am and they know it! They know he's normal, just normal, only they don't like his work. They fear him. Oh we must get him out. We must. We cannot continue our noble plans without him.” Nivley began to sob, and crumpled up on the floor.

Stunned and at a loss for words Patty kneeled down and stroked Nivley's hair, cooing and attempting to calm her down. “Who are they and whom have they committed?” she asked gently.

Nively looked up at Patty, her head resting in Patty's lap. Her tears were black with her mascara, a dark stygian river flowing down each cheek. “The High Duke of Iowa and Second Steward to His Imperial Majesty Emperor Norton I.”

Patty looked puzzled. “Who?”

“The High Duke of Iowa and --”

“Iowa doesn't have a Duke. They've got a governor --”

“It's not an officially recognized title by this farcical government,” sneered Nively. “The High Dukes serve His Imperial Majesty Norton I, the Emperor of the United States.”

Dazed for a second time Patty began to understand who had taken whom and why. With a deep sigh she held Nively's head in her lap and stroked her hair, searching deep for the patience she would need to calm Nively and assure her everything is for the best. “What does a Second Steward do?”

“He assists the First Steward and oversees the work of the Third Steward,” Nively offered between sobs.

“Just how many Stewards are there?”

“Seven.”

“And what is they they all do?”

“Keep the Empire ready for Norton's heir to claim what is his of course. Oh, and protect Mexico as he would wish.”

“And this Norton fellow has an heir?”

“We are working on that. The research wing is tracking down his descendants and relatives. It's hard work finding them and determining who has succession rights you know.” Nively had stopped sobbing and was now laying still, numb from the shock, and exhausted from her emotions. “I bet they treat the High Duke of Iowa the way they did the Lower Count of New Mexico.” At this Nively began to wail and the tears resumed their journey down her ruined face.

Gently rocking Nively Patty asked, “Just what did they do to the Lower Count of New Mexico?”

“They -- they -- they put him in an assylum w-w-with the vulgar patients!” The wailing reached new heights. “H-h-h-he's almost royalty yet he was put in a ward with commoners. H-h-h-he deserves better, he s-s-s-serves our Emperor and they treat him like he's a nobody. They'll do the same thing to the High Duke of Iowa, I j-j-j-just know it.”

Patty was beside herself. The more Nively talked of the misfortunes of her friends the worse she became. Curiously, Patty noted that Nively seemed more concerned about her noble friends being treated as one of the vulgar masses instead of the fact they were being locked up as looneys.

In an attempt to change the subject Patty asked, “How's your stuffed rabbit? I heard he was nearly kidnapped a while ago.” At this Nivley sprang up, the tears switched off, and once again her usual cheerful smile returned.

“Oh he's fine. This nice officer helped me find him. Would you like me to fetch him for you?”

“That would be wonderful.”