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Though an ancestor, Sweyn I, was the first Danish King to coin money, Margrethe makes do on what she gets—a state allowance of $2.1 million a year, of which $1.4 million goes to her 80 employees. She lives quietly with her handsome husband, former French Count Henri de Monpezat, who has the title Prince Henrik of Denmark, and their two sons, Frederik, 7, and Joachim, 6. In a society that prizes hygge (coziness) above hauteur, the couple are disarmingly informal. Their Copenhagen comrades are apt to be invited over to the Amalienborg Palace for a late-night snack—in the kitchen. To the Danes, such no-nonsense ways perfectly reflect their chummy democracy.
THE O IN NORWAY
When Norwegian newspaper readers were asked to pick the "name of the year" last December, a thumping majority (more than 60%) chose King Olav V, their monarch since 1957. The simplest, most egalitarian of northern royals, the powerless potentate has always, as his people say, been "one of us." A daring skier at 74, Olav still greets early birds on the slopes outside Oslo. He can be seen whisking his 5.5-meter sailboat Bingo around Oslo Fjord or walking his dog in the streets, trailed by a puffing cop whose task is not mainly to guard the King but to help him if he should have an accident.
An international-class sailor, Big O delights in competition; as he puts it, "The wind treats everyone the same way." In a rock pile of a country bounded by a vicious sea, that could almost be the national philosophy. Olav and his doughty father, King Haakon VII, escaped Norway after the German invasion in 1940 and led their nation's heroic resistance. The King, a widower since 1954, lives on a government allowance of $540,000 a year. Viking-stiff on formal occasions, Olav in relaxed surroundings can cuss and down his whisky like a bosun's mate.
Crown Prince Harald is warmly accepted as Olav's heir. A keen sportsman like his father, Harald, 39, spent five wartime years in the U.S., and, despite two years at Oxford, speaks American-accented English. An outgoing, unassuming fellow who confessed in a recent interview that he is "stubborn and lazy, and a little bashful too," Harald has had to take out bank loans to supplement his state allowance. He has been married since 1968 to Sonja Haraldsen, comely daughter of a self-made clothing manufacturer; they have two children, Martha Louise, 4, and Haakon Magnus, 2. Like most of their compatriots, the royal family can look forward to palmier days. Norway, by 1980, will have a $3.6 billion balance of payments surplus from its North Sea oil.
THE TINY TRIO
Royalty is as firmly ensconced in Europe's three pocket principalities. Grand Duke Jean of Luxembourg, 55, reigns over 350,000 subjects and 999 square miles. No operetta state, Luxembourg is a charter member of the European Common Market, belongs to NATO and in 1951 even sent a platoon to fight in the Korean conflict. The country's living standard is among Europe's highest; it seldom faces a crisis more serious than a boost in potato prices.
Liechtenstein boasts 72