Chap­ter 17 – Roy­al­ty At Play invites read­ers into the curi­ous world of Euro­pean mon­archs vaca­tion­ing along the sun­lit Riv­iera, a stretch of coast­line that offers both indul­gence and escape. Roy­als, once bound tight­ly to the rit­u­als and respon­si­bil­i­ties of court, arrive here seek­ing refuge from pub­lic expec­ta­tion. Drawn by the sea and the promise of anonymi­ty, kings and queens min­gle with high soci­ety in places like Cannes, Men­tone, and Monte Carlo—not to renounce their thrones, but to shed their titles for a sea­son. What makes this even more com­pelling is the irony: these sov­er­eigns, sym­bols of pow­er and tra­di­tion, flock to a region known for its repub­li­can sen­ti­ment. Their pres­ence, though casu­al, trans­forms local scenes into spec­ta­cles. While they claim to seek soli­tude, their very exis­tence pulls atten­tion and crowds, show­ing that roy­al fame can rarely be paused, only rebrand­ed.

Chap­ter 17 – Roy­al­ty At Play blends humor­ous detail with his­tor­i­cal depth as it recounts key moments that root­ed the Riv­iera in aris­to­crat­ic allure. Vic­tor Emmanuel II’s sur­ren­der of Savoy and Nice to France, a deci­sion fraught with nation­al con­se­quences, inad­ver­tent­ly added pres­tige to the region. Lat­er, Russ­ian roy­al­ty fol­lowed, includ­ing Empress Marie Feodor­ov­na, who brought her ail­ing son to the coast in search of Mediter­ranean heal­ing. These instances reveal that the Riviera’s appeal to mon­archs is not pure­ly leisure-driven—it’s tied to per­son­al stakes, health, and diplo­ma­cy. Over the years, this coastal stretch evolved into an infor­mal stage where roy­als could exer­cise choice rather than duty. Their tem­po­rary removal from polit­i­cal affairs made the Riv­iera a curi­ous exper­i­ment in soft pow­er, where sta­tus was sig­naled not through crowns, but through dis­cre­tion. Even in repose, roy­al­ty man­aged to influ­ence the spaces they occu­pied.

Anec­dotes of roy­als in casu­al sit­u­a­tions pop­u­late the chap­ter, cre­at­ing vivid, often satir­i­cal por­traits of a class attempt­ing to live ordi­nar­i­ly in extra­or­di­nary skins. The Queen of Eng­land is spot­ted seat­ed in a don­key chair, a mod­est and some­what com­i­cal depar­ture from regal pos­ture. Mean­while, the Prince of Wales, future Edward VII, is seen enjoy­ing Monte Carlo’s vibrant nightlife with a fond­ness that seems habit­u­al rather than scan­dalous. The author notes, not with­out wit, how aging has soft­ened the prince’s appear­ance, but not his appetite for plea­sure. These moments human­ize roy­al fig­ures with­out dis­miss­ing the con­tra­dic­tion they embody—privileged enough to escape, yet nev­er ful­ly free from obser­va­tion. Their leisure is both gen­uine and per­for­ma­tive, reveal­ing the bur­den of always being watched, even when at play.

Chap­ter 17 – Roy­al­ty At Play also explores the evolv­ing rela­tion­ship between pub­lic per­cep­tion and aris­to­crat­ic behav­ior. Events like the yacht races in Cannes and the Bat­tle of Flow­ers show­case roy­als not as inac­ces­si­ble rulers but as active par­tic­i­pants in society’s grand mas­quer­ade. Yet the friv­o­li­ty also rais­es con­cerns. As roy­al­ty becomes syn­ony­mous with enter­tain­ment rather than lead­er­ship, the long-term rel­e­vance of monar­chies comes into ques­tion. The chap­ter doesn’t con­demn their leisure—it ques­tions its sus­tain­abil­i­ty. If mon­archs are to retain pub­lic affec­tion, can they afford to be seen only in moments of extrav­a­gance? The idea of leisure becomes polit­i­cal, espe­cial­ly when set against the grow­ing expec­ta­tions for trans­paren­cy, pro­duc­tiv­i­ty, and con­tri­bu­tion in the mod­ern era.

Per­haps the most thought-pro­vok­ing sec­tion is the por­tray­al of the Prince of Mona­co, who has embraced a role beyond inher­it­ed priv­i­lege. Instead of loung­ing end­less­ly, he’s invest­ed in the principality’s hos­pi­tal­i­ty sec­tor, align­ing with the Riviera’s broad­er trans­for­ma­tion into a lux­u­ry des­ti­na­tion. This shift sug­gests a path for­ward: a mod­el of roy­al­ty that con­tributes to nation­al iden­ti­ty through work, not just cer­e­mo­ni­al pres­ence. The prince becomes a case study in adap­ta­tion, show­ing that engage­ment and evo­lu­tion may be key to pre­serv­ing the dig­ni­ty of roy­al life. Rather than sim­ply rep­re­sent­ing his­to­ry, mon­archs can par­tic­i­pate in shap­ing it. In doing so, they remain rel­e­vant in soci­eties where tra­di­tion­al roles are increas­ing­ly ques­tioned.

Chap­ter 17 – Roy­al­ty At Play ulti­mate­ly reflects on the con­tra­dic­tion of roy­al escape. Even in leisure, they can­not escape sym­bol­ism; their pres­ence always sug­gests more than vaca­tion. The chap­ter encour­ages read­ers to con­sid­er the del­i­cate line between retreat and rel­e­vance, priv­i­lege and per­for­mance. As mod­ern soci­eties grow more egal­i­tar­i­an and media expo­sure more relent­less, the very notion of roy­al­ty must adapt or fade. The Riv­iera, once an acci­den­tal refuge, becomes a metaphor for this balance—a place where tra­di­tion meets trans­for­ma­tion. Here, mon­archs are nei­ther entire­ly roy­al nor ful­ly pri­vate, exist­ing in a space where indul­gence must jus­ti­fy its exis­tence through either charm or con­tri­bu­tion.