She and Parker wrote to each other by e-mail every day. She called him in Boston a few times once she was back, but he was afraid to call her. Christianna didn't want anyone aware of him, nor for anyone, particularly her father, brother, or security, to see his name on a message lying somewhere. E-mail was the only communication that was safe. And even there she held out no hope for the future to him. There wasn't any. And misleading him now, or harboring hopes herself, would have been too cruel. They had no hope, all they had now were memories of a golden time, and the love they shared.
She loved her exchanges with him, their laughter, even if only on screen. He told her how his work was going, and she told him about her days. Most of the time she just told him what she felt. She was more than ever in love with him, and he with her.
She attended numerous state events with her father, and two dinners in Vienna. And they went to an enormously fancy party in Monte Carlo, given by Prince Albert. It was the Red Cross Ball, which had particular meaning for her, although she had had no real desire to attend the ball. She was back in her traces again, the yoke of duty on her neck, her father's hostess in Vaduz and Vienna, and ever on his arm when they went out.
Freddy was living in Liechtenstein Palace in Vienna, and playing all over Europe. He traveled on yachts with friends, and spent a week in St. Tropez in September. As always, the paparazzi followed him, hoping to get some tidbit or scandal. Lately, he had been better than usual, but the press knew, as Christianna and her father did, that with Freddy it was only a matter of time before he was in the soup again, and being served up on a silver platter by the press. He had visited Victoria in London several times, and she was engaged again, to a rock star this time, in honor of whom she had gotten a huge heart tattooed on her chest, and dyed her hair green. Freddy loved hanging out with her. She moved in a racy crowd that suited him. And once in a while, when he had nothing else to do, he came home for a visit to Vaduz.
It unnerved him to see how mature Christianna had become, how determined her efforts to please their father. She visited the sick in hospitals and orphanages constantly, went to see old people in convalescent centers, spoke at libraries, and posed constantly for photographs. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to do, without a single word of complaint, but when he looked into her eyes on one of his visits home, what he saw there made his heart ache. Even Freddy could see the price she was paying for the life she led.
“You need to have more fun,” he told her one morning over breakfast, on a gloriously sunny day in Vaduz toward the end of September. “You're getting old before your time, my love.” She had turned twenty-four that summer, and he was about to turn thirty-four, with no sign whatsoever of his settling down or growing up.
“What do you suggest?” Christianna asked him practically.
“Why don't you go to the South of France for a couple of weeks? The sailboat races are next week. Victoria rented a house in Ramatuelle, and you know how much fun her house parties are.” It was all he could think of to suggest. And there was no question, it would have been fun. But then after that, what? Back to Vaduz again, and the weight of painful duties forevermore. Christianna was depressed about it from the moment she came home, and Freddy's well-meant but superficial suggestions didn't help. In fact, there was no real solution to the problem, except resignation and surrender. And to add fuel to the fire of her despair and loneliness, she had been obliged to give up love, of her own accord.
“I feel as though I ought to be here to help Papa. I've been away for so long.” And he enjoyed her company so much. He said it every day.
“Father can manage fine without you,” Freddy said, stretching his long, elegant legs out before him. He was an incredibly handsome young man, and women fell into his hands like grapes dropping off the vine. “He manages fine without me,” Freddy laughed, and his sister sighed. She had given up so much to be home and pick up the thread of her duties again. She wondered when he would do the same, if ever. And most of the burdens that rested on her, and were keeping her from Parker, were because her brother shouldered none at all. It was hard not to resent him for it.
“When are you going to grow up?” she asked him pointedly. Even she was getting tired of his constant partying and irresponsibility. It was tedious at their age, although previously she had forgiven him all. But his lifestyle no longer seemed as charming to her as it once had. She was shouldering his responsibilities as well as her own.
“Maybe never. Or not until I have to,” he said honestly. “What do I have to grow up for? Father is going to live for a long time. I'm not going to be reigning prince for years. I'll grow up when I am.” She didn't say it to him, but wanted to, by then it might be too late. He had developed bad habits over the years and was incredibly self-indulgent. He was the exact opposite of his extremely responsible sister. Her willingness to be there for their father enabled Freddy to be who he was, and wasn't.
“You could help Father more than you do,” she said tersely. “He has an immense burden on him constantly, worrying about the country's economy, dealing with economic and humanitarian issues, keeping our trade pacts in order with other countries. It would make life much easier for him if you took an interest in some of it.” She tried to encourage him, but as he had all his life, Freddy did nothing. He just played.
“You've gotten awfully serious while you were away,” he said, looking slightly annoyed at her. He didn't like being reminded of his duties, or called to order. His father had all but given up on it, and rarely did now. He just relied more and more on Christianna and it didn't please Freddy to be reprimanded by his younger sister, particularly if she was right. “I find that very boring,” Freddy said, with an edge to his voice.
“Maybe real life is boring,” she said, sounding older than her years. “I don't think that grown-ups have fun every day, at least not those in our particular situation. We have a responsibility to Father and the country, to set an example for people, and do what's expected of us, whether we like it or want to, or not. Remember? ‘Honor, Courage, Welfare.’ ”
It was the family code by which they lived, or were supposed to. Her father and Christianna did. It had never meant a lot to Freddy, in fact nothing at all. His honor was questionable. He was not courageous about anything. And the only welfare that had interested him so far was his own.
“When did you get so holy?” he asked her irritably. “What did they do to you in Africa?” He had recognized in recent weeks that she had changed. She was no longer the young girl she had been when she left. She was a woman now, in all senses of the word. And when he looked into her eyes, she seemed pained.
“I learned a lot of things,” she said quietly, “from some wonderful people,” those that she had worked with as well as those she had gone to help. She had fallen in love with both, and with a man she loved deeply, and had given up for her father and country. She had seen a beloved friend die, and the country erupt in war. She had seen a lot in the nine months she was gone, and had come home a different person. Freddy could see it, and wasn't sure he liked it. He was finding her ever-increasing sense of responsibility painfully annoying.
“I think you're getting a bit tedious, my darling sister,” he said with an edge to his voice. “Perhaps you need to have more fun, and spend less time trying to curb mine.” There was a tartness to his answer, as he stood up and stretched lazily. “I'm going back to Vienna today, and then I'm flying to London to see friends.” It was an endless merry-go-round with him, from one entertainment to another. She wondered how he could stand it. It was such an empty life. How many parties could one go to? How many starlets and models could one chase? While everyone else did all the work.
He left that morning after saying goodbye to her, and there was an uneasiness between them. He didn't like her criticizing him or reminding him of his duties. And she didn't enjoy watching him waste his life in constant dissipation. She was still annoyed about it, when she got an e-mail from Parker that morning. He was suggestin
g they meet in Paris.
Her first inclination was to say no to him, although she had promised him she would one day. The downside of it was that they would only get more attached to each other, fall more in love, and suffer even more than they already had, when they had to leave each other. And how many times could she do that? At some point, someone would recognize her, the paparazzi would come, and she would become as big a disgrace as Freddy, perhaps even worse since she was a woman, and her country's attitudes about women were so archaic, possibly the most in Europe. She hesitated for a few minutes after she read his e-mail, and then picked up the phone to call him. She was going to tell him no. But the moment she heard his voice, she melted.
“Hi, Cricky,” he said gently. “How's it going there?” She sighed, trying to know how to answer him, and decided to be honest.
“It's so hard. I just had breakfast with my brother. Some things don't change, or not much. All he does is play and party and fool around, and have fun, while my father works like a dog, and I do everything I can to help him. It's just not fair. He has no sense of responsibility at all. He's thirty-four, and acts like he's eighteen. I love him, but sometimes I get so tired of all his nonsense.” And she knew her father did, too. It put that much more responsibility on her shoulders and his as well. She felt obliged to make up for him in every way she could, and was beginning to resent him for it. She had never felt that way about it before Senafe. But she hadn't been in love with Parker then. Before she left, her brother had seemed like a charming, naughty boy who, most of the time, amused her. Now, since she was giving up so much, it was far less amusing. Parker thought she sounded tired, and sad.
“What do you think about Paris?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
“I don't know,” she said honestly. “I'd love to, but I worry that we're just delaying the agony.” She didn't add the words “of pulling the plug,” which was how she saw it. There was just no other solution. At some point, she could try to talk to her father about it, but she had virtually no hope. Given how her father viewed things, a commoner in Boston, even if a respectable young doctor, was not something he would allow. He was not a prince, or even a royal. Christianna being with him violated all her father's beliefs, and hopes for her. He didn't care how many other princes and princesses in other countries were marrying commoners these days. He had no intention of mitigating his opinions or compromising. And for the moment, he had no idea Christianna was in love. And once he did, she knew her father. In the end, he would ask her to give him up, and she would have to. In her position, she could not go against the tides of a thousand years of tradition, or the deathbed wishes of her mother. The currents were just too strong, and eventually the love she shared with Parker would have to die. Realizing that again made her heart ache every time. And trying to explain it to him was worse.
“I'm just trying to keep the patient alive until we find a cure for the illness,” he said, still cherishing his hopes and dreams and love for her. He was not willing to give up, not yet at least, and hopefully never.
“There is no cure, my love,” she said softly, longing to see him. She was twenty-four years old, deeply in love with a wonderful man. It was hard to explain even to herself why she should stamp it out, for a country and a series of ancient traditions, or even for her father, or because her brother was inadequate for the throne. She felt pulled a thousand ways.
“Let's just meet in Paris,” he said gently. “We don't have to solve all the problems now. I miss you, Cricky. I want to see you.”
“I want to see you, too,” she said sadly. “I wish we could just go to Massawa for the weekend.” She smiled, remembering their weekend there. They had had so much fun. Their days in Africa together had been so much easier than these.
“I'm not sure that's the place to be right now. I've been reading about it on the Internet. The border wars are getting worse.” The Ethiopians wanted the Eritreans' ports. They always had, and had never fully accepted the terms of the truce. “I think you got out at just the right time.” Even though she hated being home, she couldn't disagree. It had been wise.
“Have you heard from anyone at the camp?” She hadn't in weeks, not since a letter from Mary Walker, and a postcard from Ushi. Neither had said much, other than that they missed her. They were guardedly waiting to see what happened, and expecting orders from Geneva. Meanwhile they were sitting tight.
“I had a card from Geoff. He didn't say much. I don't think they know anything yet. But if there's a full-scale war there again, it's going to be a mess. They'll probably have to get out, or risk some real dangers if they stay. They might join up with the UN forces at the border, but that will put them right in the line of fire. If they do that, they'll probably close the base in Senafe.” Just thinking of that made Christianna sad. She had been so happy there. And she was sadder still for the Eritreans she had come to love so much. Another war with Ethiopia would be a terrible thing for them. They had only just recovered from the last one. “Let's get back to us,” Parker called her to order. He had to go back to work. “Paris. You, me. Us …dinner, walking along the Seine, holding hands, kisses … making love … does any of that sound familiar or even enticing?” She laughed. It sounded irresistible, not just enticing. And all of it with the man she loved.
“Who can resist?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
“I hope you can't. When can you get away? What does your schedule look like?”
“I have to go to a wedding with my father in Amsterdam this weekend. The queen of Holland's niece is getting married, and my father is her godfather. But I think I'm free the following one,” she said practically, and he was laughing at her.
“You're the only woman I know, or ever will I guess, whose social calendar is taken up by kings and queens and princes. Other people have tickets to baseball games, or church socials. You, my love, are truly my fairy princess.”
“That is precisely the problem.” And he was her Prince Charming.
“Fine. I'm perfectly willing to play second fiddle to the queen of Holland. How about the weekend after?” She quickly flipped through her social calendar and nodded.
“I could do it.” She was free, and then she paused, worried. “I don't know what I'll tell my father.”
“Tell him you need to go shopping. That's always a good excuse.” It was, but she was worried her father would want to go with her. He loved taking her to Paris. And then suddenly she remembered, and her face lit up with excitement. She could do it.
“I just remembered. He's going to a sailing race in England that weekend, in Cowes. He'll be busy.” It always impressed Parker how devoted she was, and dismayed him at the same time.
“So are we on?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
She laughed and sounded young and free again, for the first time since she got home. “We're on, my love.” She felt like she had just gotten a reprieve. Three days in Paris with him. And after that, she'd live with all the burdens she had. Just three more days with him. It was like lifeblood to her. Seeing him was the air she needed to breathe.
They made their plans. And she told her secretary to make reservations at the Ritz in Paris. He was going to do the same. They couldn't risk sharing a room, in case someone squealed at the hotel. They could leave his room empty, or hers, but they had to register separately. She was grateful he had the money to do it, and was willing to.
She asked the head of security to assign Max and Samuel to her. She knew they would be discreet and leave her alone. It would be like a reunion for them after Senafe. She could hardly wait.
She left for her official duties that afternoon with a spring in her step. She was nicer than ever to the children, more patient than she'd ever been with the old people, kinder than she was usually with people who shook her hand, or gave her flowers or hugged her. And when she went out with her father to an official dinner that night, even he noticed how happy she was. He was relieved to see it. He had been worried about her. She had seemed so unhappy sinc
e she got home, even more so than before she left. He was almost beginning to regret he had ever let her go, if it had only worsened the problem, rather than curing it. She was tireless in her kindness to the people she spoke to that night, gracious, poised, patient, intelligent. She was the daughter to him he always knew she was. What he didn't know was all that she could think about now was Parker, and seeing him again. She was living for three days in Paris with him, and would have walked across burning coals to get there. Parker was the only thing keeping her going now, the strength he gave her fueled her, and the deep, heady essence of their love.
Chapter 15
Max and Samuel accompanied Christianna in the car to the airport in Zurich, and teased her about what a hardship assignment this was. They both loved traveling with her, enjoyed Paris, and it was a nice break from routine for them as well. It was almost as though the Three Musketeers were on the road again, even if not for long. They had no idea she was meeting Parker in Paris. She hadn't said anything to them. She didn't want anyone to know, not even them. She wanted no slip-ups, no mistakes. This wasn't a weekend in Qohaito, far from her father's eyes. This was very close to home for her, and she knew that one slip would bring the press on her in a minute. She and Parker were going to have to be infinitely careful and relentlessly discreet.
They arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris and were escorted through customs by the head of airport security, as they always were. A chauffeured car was waiting for her, and Max and Sam got in it with her. They no longer called her “Cricky” here, but had referred to her respectfully as “Your Highness” ever since they got home. It seemed strange to hear it from them now, but she accepted that.
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