Crowned with Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “Ostensibly to Serbia,” Captain Darius replied, “but I think the train will carry them on to Vienna and we shall not be troubled with them again.”

  Miklōs seemed for the moment to be still, almost as if he could hardly credit that such a thing could be true.

  But, because she had been so frightened and it was such a relief to know the King had actually gone, not only for Miklōs’s sake but for her own, Giona gave a cry of sheer happiness.

  Then she flung herself against the Prince.

  “We have won – we have won! Oh, Miklōs, we have – won! He has – gone and we need – no longer be afraid.”

  His arms went round her and, as she looked up at him, her eyes shining, the words tumbling out in her excitement, he bent his head and his lips were on hers.

  For a second she could hardly believe that it was happening.

  Then as he kissed her she knew that this was what she had been longing for and this was what she had really wanted although she had not been aware of it.

  He held her closer still and she felt as if a shaft of sunlight ran through her whole body.

  Then she was free and was aware that all around them the people who had been watching were cheering wildly, waving their hats, their handkerchiefs and their caps in the sheer delight of what they had learnt.

  The news that Captain Darius had reported was now being passed on to those behind them and the cheers came echoing back to them like waves rippling on a beach.

  For a moment, still holding onto Miklōs, Giona could think of nothing but the wonder of his kiss.

  Then she heard him say, speaking calmly in spite of his elation,

  “What else have you arranged, Otho?”

  “The Archbishop is waiting for you in the Cathedral,” Captain Darius replied, “and your joyful subjects are gathered in the square.”

  Miklōs smiled.

  “Thank you, Otho,” he said. “I knew I could rely on you.”

  “This is the happiest day of my life!” Captain Darius exclaimed.

  He saluted, turned his horse, and rode away in front of them.

  Miklōs drew Giona down on the seat beside him and she held onto his hand saying,

  “Is it true – really true – the King has – gone?”

  “He has gone,” Miklōs answered, “and he will trouble neither of us again! And now, my beautiful wife, we are to be crowned. After that we have before us the task of bringing this country back to the happiness it knew when my father ruled it.”

  “I am sure you can do that,” Giona murmured.

  “Only with your help,” Miklōs said softly.

  For a moment their eyes met and, because of the expression in his, she felt as if he was kissing her again.

  Then, as she looked away from him shyly, she was aware of how many people were watching and cheering as they drove into the City and she told herself that whatever she felt about Miklōs, she must remember her duty to them.

  When they reached the square, it was so packed with people that it was almost impossible for the horses to move through it.

  By now the carriage they were driving in was almost filled with flowers.

  As if by magic, every child on either side of the road was holding a flower in its hand and the mothers too had brought little bunches of wild flowers that they threw into the carriage as it passed them.

  By the time they reached the Cathedral on the other side of the square and adjacent to the House of Parliament, Giona thought that, if there were many more flowers, she and Miklōs would be covered by them.

  Captain Darius was standing on the Cathedral steps and with him a number of the Clergy. Behind them were smartly dressed men and women, who Giona guessed must be the Members of Parliament and their wives and perhaps members of the Nobility whom she had not met before.

  It was obvious that they were all Slavonian and all rapturously glad to see Miklōs.

  They bowed and curtseyed to him as the Clergy led the way and they proceeded up the aisle of the Cathedral, which appeared to be completely packed with people.

  At the top of the altar steps stood the Archbishop, who Giona guessed must have been in retirement until now, waiting for them in the full regalia of the Greek Orthodox Church.

  The Chancel was ablaze with candles, but because the seven silver lamps were missing, she guessed that during King Ferdinand’s reign the Services in the Cathedral had been Lutheran.

  It was impossible to ask any questions as Miklōs led her in front of the Archbishop and the Coronation Service began.

  Giona was afraid that she would inevitably make mistakes, but one of the Clergy stood beside her to tell her what to do and, after Miklōs had been crowned, she knelt before the Clergyman and he crowned her.

  Then, as he raised her to her feet and they faced the vast congregation, there was a great shout of welcome from everyone present. It sounded so sincere and so happy that Giona felt tears come into her eyes.

  There were prayers and the National Anthem was sung loudly.

  Then, still wearing their Royal crowns, they moved down the aisle and out onto the steps of the Cathedral to where the people were waiting outside to see them.

  If King Miklōs had wanted to speak, it would have been impossible, for the cheering and excitement rang out deafeningly and had hardly abated when they turned away to leave their crowns in the Cathedral before they drove away to The Palace.

  Somebody took Giona’s crown from her and placed on her head the tiara that she had worn when she had arrived and for Miklōs there was a plumed hat that made him look extremely handsome.

  At the same time, Giona thought, there was a new authority about him that had not been there before.

  There was a different carriage waiting for them from the one that had brought them from the valley. This was drawn by six white horses with postilions and it was carved and gilded in a manner that made Giona aware that it was a carriage used only on Royal occasions.

  They drove slowly so that everybody on either side of the road could see them and, what was more, there were no soldiers lining the route.

  The people ran beside the carriage cheering and throwing flowers into it and their happiness was so infectious that Giona felt as if she wanted to cheer too.

  “They love you, Miklōs, they love you!” she enthused when she could make herself heard.

  “And they love you too!” he replied. “Do you see how many children have been carrying a rose? You captured their hearts when you accepted the rose from the little boy outside the House of Parliament and then carried him back to his mother.”

  “You heard about that?”

  “A great many people told me,” he replied, “but it was Otho Darius who told me about it first.”

  “I had a feeling, and I was right, that he was your man,” Giona said.

  Miklōs laughed.

  “He is much more than that! He played an extremely difficult and dangerous part by pretending to be in the King’s service while he was actually in mine.”

  “He is very brave.”

  “Very!” Miklōs agreed. “In fact he is my cousin and owns a great deal of land on the Eastern side of the country, but he is not going to be able to enjoy it for a long time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I need him here,” Miklōs replied. “Young though he is, I intend to put him in charge of the Army and I also need him to help me with many reforms that must be made here in Dūric if the people are to be happy and as well looked after as they should be.”

  “They need schools and, I am sure, hospitals?”

  “That is going to be one of your jobs.”

  “Oh, no!” Giona exclaimed. “Supposing I make a mess of it?”

  “I will look after you,” Miklōs promised. “You may be certain of that.”

  There was a look in his eyes that made her once again feel shy.

  There was no chance of saying anything more, for by now they had reached The Palace, where again Captain Darius
was waiting for them with a large number of Slavonian dignitaries who, she learnt later, had refused to work under King Ferdinand, but were now willing and eager to do anything that was required of them.

  They had a great deal to say during luncheon, which was a delicious but short meal, and the only speech was made by the new King.

  He thanked everybody for their loyalty and told them that he intended tomorrow to start immediately on reforms that he believed were long overdue.

  It was late in the afternoon when finally Giona was able to go upstairs to take off her tiara, which by now, even though it was light, was beginning to make her head ache.

  “Go and rest,” Miklōs said to her. “Mithra is waiting for you and will tell you what I have planned for the evening.”

  Giona wanted to protest and say that she would rather be with him alone, but she thought he might refuse her request and that would be embarrassing.

  She felt for the moment exhausted at meeting so many people, however kind and congratulatory they had been.

  When she reached the top of the Grand Staircase, it was a relief to see Mithra waiting for her.

  The woman did not curtsey but went down on her knees and kissed her hand, saying,

  “I pledge myself, Your Majesty, to serve you now and forever not only with loyalty, but with love.”

  Giona made a sound that was almost a sob as she replied,

  “Thank you, Mithra. I am afraid I am very tired.”

  “I know, Your Majesty, and I have everything ready. Come!”

  She guided Giona along the passage and in the direction of the room that she had had before, but into another that, when she realised it, Giona knew must have been shut up during King Ferdinand’s occupation of The Palace.

  There were maids still removing the Holland covers from the furniture and brushing and dusting the rooms they passed through.

  When she finally came to her own bedroom, she knew why these rooms had not been used.

  They were all exquisitely beautiful in a manner that would certainly not have appealed to the Germanic tastes of King Ferdinand.

  The ceilings were painted with Goddesses and cupids, the furniture was antique French and the pictures were mostly by famous French artists.

  The Aubusson carpets and the pale damask hangings were patterned in delicate colours.

  In Giona’s room the bed was carved with cupids, doves and flowers all heavily gilded and the curtains were of blue silk, the colour of the sky.

  In fact everywhere she looked there were emblems of love.

  She knew without being told it was a room that Miklōs would remember as a boy and had been his mother’s.

  Then because she was very tired she allowed Mithra to undress her and put on one of the attractive nightgowns that her mother had bought for her in Bond Street.

  She slipped into bed and almost as soon as her head touched the pillow she was asleep.

  *

  She seemed to have slept for a very long time before Mithra awoke her and she realised that the sun was setting and it must be growing late in the evening.

  “Your bath is ready, Your Majesty,” Mithra said, “and I have a message from His Majesty.”

  Giona was suddenly alert.

  “What is it?”

  “His Majesty has arranged for you to dine together in the boudoir this evening.”

  “Alone?”

  “Alone, Your Majesty.”

  Giona jumped out of bed no longer tired but filled with excitement that was different from anything she had known before.

  She had been so afraid that, because it was the first evening of Miklōs’s, reign they would have to have a large dinner party and there would be no chance of talking to him or even of sitting beside him.

  Now she would be able to say to him all the things that seemed to have crowded into her mind and she could hardly wait to enjoy the flower-scented bath that Mithra had ready for her.

  When she had dried herself, she found Mithra waiting with, not as she expected, one of her elaborate evening gowns but a negligée and a nightgown that matched it.

  “Can I really wear that?” Giona asked.

  “But of course, Your Majesty! Then you can relax and there will be no one to see you except His Majesty.”

  This, however, made Giona feel rather shy as she left her bedroom and went into the boudoir, where she had been told that the King was waiting for her.

  He rose from his chair as she came in and she saw that the room was as beautiful as her bedroom and had been decorated with white flowers whose fragrance scented the air.

  But it was impossible to look at anything except the man who was her husband and whom she had kissed from sheer excitement when she learned that he had won the battle against his adversary and that no one had been killed or injured.

  “You are rested?” Miklōs asked in his deep voice.

  “I am afraid I was very tired.”

  “You had every reason to be,” he answered. “Come and sit down and let me give you a glass of champagne.”

  He put a glass into her hand and as she sipped it he said,

  “I thought, as we have been surrounded by people all day, tonight we would be alone, really alone. Then we can talk and we are going to wait on ourselves or rather I am going to wait on you. In that way, my lovely one, we shall not be disturbed.”

  It was something that Giona had not expected and her eyes lit up as she said,

  “That will be very – exciting!”

  “That is what I hoped you would think,” Miklōs said, “and let me start by telling you that you look even more beautiful at this moment than you did today in the Cathedral, where, as I crowned you, I thought that no Slavonian Queen had ever been lovelier.”

  “I felt that I was crowned with love,” Giona said, thinking of the crowds inside and outside the Cathedral who were so thrilled by what had happened.

  “You must have read my thoughts,” Miklōs said in a deep voice, “and I am sure that no Queen has ever been more worthy of her Throne than you.”

  “You are making me feel very shy and embarrassed,” Giona said. “I know how ignorant I am, but I am relying on you to – teach me what I – should do.”

  “I have every intention of doing that,” Miklōs said, “and there are, in fact, many things I want to teach you.”

  He spoke in his deep voice in a manner that made Giona drop her eyes.

  After a moment’s hesitation he rose and fetched the dishes from a side table on which they were being kept warm by little candles burning beneath the silver dishes themselves.

  Afterwards Giona found it impossible to remember what she did eat, except that it was delicious, because she was acutely conscious of Miklōs sitting opposite her.

  The candlelight was shining on his handsome face and seemed to bring a strange gleam to his eyes when he looked into hers.

  When their dinner was finished, Miklōs rang the bell and immediately servants appeared to carry away the table and everything else in the passing of seconds.

  Then, as they closed the door behind them, he sat down beside Giona on the low sofa and declared,

  “Now we can talk to each other!”

  “That is what I have been wanting to do,” Giona smiled, “but there were far too many other people who wanted to tell you what they were thinking and feeling.”

  “How could I have hoped that everything would go so smoothly,” Miklōs said, “and exactly as I had planned?”

  “You really believed that King Ferdinand would run away?” Giona asked.

  “I hoped and prayed that he would do so once the Army had deserted him. But, as you can imagine, it was a great relief to know that there need be no fighting when a number of our people might be killed. They have suffered enough already.”

  “I am sure that they will soon forget it and be happy now that you are on the Throne,” Giona said.

  “There is a great deal to do,” Miklōs answered, “but fortunately I have people like Ot
ho Darius, who have been loyal to me all through the years in exile and who will now reap their reward.”

  He paused before he went on,

  “What is more important now, Giona, is for us to talk about ourselves.”

  Then, as Giona gave a sigh of relief, because she was fascinated and at the same time afraid of what he might say, she rose to her feet and walked across the boudoir to the window.

  She pulled back the damask curtain to gaze out at the moonlight.

  Below her she could see the gardens of The Palace and beyond them the iron railings that separated The Palace from the City.

  In every street and every house, it seemed to her, the lights were burning and faintly, as if from a long way off, she could hear music. She was sure that the people were dancing and celebrating excitedly for their new King, a new reign and a new era of happiness.

  Lost in thought she started a little as she realised that Miklōs had followed her and was standing beside her.

  “What are you thinking now?”

  “I was thinking how happy they are.”

  “And what about us, Giona?”

  “How could you be anything but happy now that you are the King?”

  “And you?”

  “You know how happy I am now that I need – no longer be – afraid.”

  He knew that she was thinking of King Ferdinand and he said very quietly,

  “Forget him, he belongs to the past. Think of me, because I am the future.”

  “I am thinking of – you.”

  “In what way?”

  “That you are very – wonderful – very brave and I am so glad – so very – very glad that the Fairytale has come true.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Of course I am sure.”

  “And you know how Fairytales end?”

  Her eyes flickered and she looked away from him as he said softly,

  “And they lived happily ever after. Is that what we are going to do, Giona?”

  She found it impossible to answer, but she felt his arms go round her very gently, as if he had no wish to frighten her.

  Then, as her face was still turned away from him, he touched her chin with his fingers and turned it up to his.

  “You are so absurdly beautiful,” he sighed, “and at the same time so intelligent. Who else would have behaved as you did during what would have been a terrifying ordeal for a woman twice your age?”