“A guillotine ring, I think,” she said, smiling, and he laughed out loud.
“Exactly. That's our guillotine ring, Your Highness,” he said with a very creditable bow, as though he had done it a thousand times. “One day I'll replace it with a better one, if they'll ever let me. But in the meantime, that's so you know I love you, and I mean it. And if we go to the guillotine together, or I go by myself, at least you'll have something to remember me by.”
“I'll always remember you, Parker,” she said, with tears filling her eyes. And for the first time, as she looked at him, she realized that he knew as well as she did what this trip was. It was their goodbye, either forever or perhaps for a very long time. It would have been hard if not impossible for her to continue to sneak away to see him. It had been nothing short of a miracle for her to be able to do so this time. He knew perfectly what was happening, and so did she. They were storing away memories now, until they met again, if they ever could. Like squirrels in winter, gathering nuts to save for when they were starving. Their life of starvation would begin the day they left Venice. Until then, they were celebrating the abundance of their love. The little emerald ring served to confirm it, and when he slipped it onto her finger and told her he loved her, she vowed to herself and to him that she would never take it off. They referred to it after that as her guillotine ring, which always made her smile.
They visited the Doge's Palace and the Pisani Palace, and then the Pesaro Palace, and the Church of Santa Maria della Salute, and Christianna particularly wanted to visit Santa Maria dei Miracoli, because she wanted to pray for a miracle for them. It was the only thing that would help them now.
They shared their last dinner in a tiny restaurant on one of the smaller canals. A man sang love songs to them, with a mandolin, and whenever they weren't eating, they held hands. They took a gondola back to the hotel, and stood outside for a long moment, in the moonlight, looking at each other. Each moment they had shared in the past few days was etched forever in their minds.
“We're going to have to be strong, you know, Cricky,” Parker said to her. Without her ever having said it to him in so many words, he knew exactly that this was the last time they would ever be together, ever or for a long time. “I'm always going to be with you, sometime, somehow. If ever you doubt it, look at your guillotine ring, remember this, and we'll find our way back to each other someday.” As she listened to him, she knew that one day he would marry someone else, have children with them, and hopefully have a happy life. She couldn't even imagine doing that herself. She wanted no one in her life but him. And all he wanted was her.
“I'll love you till the day I die,” she said, and meant every word of it, while he hoped that wouldn't be for a long, long time.
And then, walking slowly, they went inside for their last night. He made love to her, and afterward, wrapped in their robes, they stood on the balcony, and looked at Venice by moonlight. It was heartbreakingly beautiful.
“Thank you for coming to meet me here,” she said, looking at him, and he pulled her slowly into his arms.
“Don't say that to me. I would cross the world for you. Whenever you want to see me, call me, and I'll come running.” They had agreed to continue e-mailing each other. She couldn't even imagine a life without contact with him, even if she couldn't see him again. And she had promised to call him, she needed to hear his voice, too. Her father could prevent them from seeing each other, but he couldn't stop them from loving each other. Only time could do that. And for now, they were still deeply in love.
They slept in each other's arms that night, stirring occasionally, touching each other, feeling each other's breath on their cheek as they lay tangled and enmeshed. They couldn't get enough of the feel of each other's skin, or the look in each other's eyes.
They stood in the shower together in the morning, letting the water run over them, and then made love one last time. They were each taking all they could with them. It was going to be a long hard winter for a very long time without each other's touch. All they had now was each other's love.
There were no paparazzi when they left. No one had said anything to them, or asked questions. Max and Sam had left them alone for all three days. The two guards had had a good time visiting Venice together, and when they went under the Bridge of Sighs, Samuel had teased Max that it meant they'd be together forever. And Max had asked him if he wanted to be shot now or later. They were both saddened, though, when they saw the look on Christianna and Parker's faces as they left for the airport. There was total silence first in the gondola, then the car, as they left Venice, and both men walked away as the two lovers said goodbye.
“I love you,” Parker said, holding her tightly in his arms. “Remember your guillotine ring and what it means. I would die for you, Cricky. And who knows what happens in life? Maybe one of those candles you lit will work.”
“I'm counting on it,” she said softly, clinging to him for the last few minutes, and then she had to leave. Her flight was first, and she kissed him again and again until Max and Sam thought they'd have to drag her away. “I love you … I'll call you when you get home.”
“I'll be right there, whenever you want me, and right here.” He touched his heart as he had when he left her in Africa. In his heart, he had never left her since, or even before.
They kissed one last time, and feeling as though she had wrenched her soul from his, she walked away toward the plane. She turned once, waved at him, her head held high, her eyes locked in his. She touched her heart and pointed to him. He nodded at her, never letting go of her eyes, and then she turned, and boarded the plane.
Chapter 18
Christianna never said a word on the plane, on the way from Venice to Zurich. Several times she looked down and touched the little band on her hand with the emerald hearts. Both men noticed it, and won dered if they had gotten married in Venice, but they didn't think they had. It was obviously something that had some deep meaning to her. She smiled at them as they got off in Zurich, and thanked them both for coming to Venice with her. There was something very quiet about her, sad, distant, and strangely removed, as though her heart and soul had left with Parker, and only a shell was returning to Vaduz, which was in fact the case.
She was silent again when they reached the palace in Vaduz two hours later. They had driven slowly, and she was in no hurry to get home anyway. It had been a magical three days in Venice with Parker, and all she had now was the rest of her life here, in prison. She would have preferred the guillotine to this. A life of eternal duty, to a father who had denied her her dreams, all in honor of her royal lineage. It seemed a high price to pay for who she was, and didn't want to be.
The dog was outside in the courtyard when they arrived. He bounded up to her, and she patted him. He followed her inside, and she went upstairs to her rooms. She'd been told her father was still away, and was due back that afternoon. They had timed it perfectly.
Sylvie was in her office and looked up at her. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't want to pry. She handed Christianna her list of appearances for the next day and the rest of the week. There was nothing unusual on the list, and all of it promised to be tedious in the extreme.
“I assume you haven't been watching the news,” Sylvie said cautiously, as Christianna looked at her and shook her head. Sylvie noticed the narrow emerald ring too and said nothing. “Your father stunned everyone by making a fairly historic speech at the UN meetings.” Christianna waited to hear the rest without comment. Sylvie had the same impression as Sam and Max, that Christianna's body had come back, but she wasn't really there. She looked like a robot as she went through the motions, and felt like one. Her heart and soul were on a plane to Boston with Parker.
“What kind of speech?” Christianna asked finally, without any particular interest. But she knew she was supposed to remain aware of her country's political positions, and the stands they took on international policies, particularly at the UN. The meetings in Paris had been important
about dealings with the Arab world.
“He took a very powerful position, for a neutral country, on how some of the disputes should be resolved. There's been a lot of talk and comment about it. Every politician and head of state in the world has been asked for comment. He came out for some very strong measures. There's been a lot of criticism from some quarters, and a lot of praise from others. The press will be swarming once he's here. One of his secretaries told me that he has four interviews lined up today. The general consensus is that he was very courageous, and it needed to be said. I think the surprise was that no one expected it from him.” In other circumstances, Christianna would have been proud of him. But she was so numb now, she didn't care.
There was also a state dinner scheduled for that night, at the palace, and for the first time in over a month, Christianna had agreed to be there. This was the life she had signed up for, and given up Parker for. Like her father, she was doing her duty. It was all she had left.
She stayed in her rooms after that, unpacked her bags herself, and looked at the photograph of Fiona she kept on her dresser. It was a picture of her laughing, with her eyes wide in surprised delight, her mouth open in gales of laughter. It was how Christianna wanted to remember her. There were others of the whole team in Senafe, but that particular photograph of Fiona was especially dear to her. It made her think of her as happy forever. And there was another one of Parker, looking straight at her, in the shorts and hiking boots and cowboy hat he had worn at the camp. She looked at all the photographs, and then at her ring.
She didn't see her father until the state dinner that night. He was full of life and seemed very pleased with himself. His speech had caused a major stir at the talks in Paris and around the world. They were surrounded by press for days, which Christianna assiduously avoided. She went about her business quietly and did what she had to. Their eyes met once across the table at the dinner, and then she avoided him. She had asked not to be seated next to him, and in spite of her reluctance to be there, she had interesting dinner partners, and a pleasant evening. It was going to be a long lifetime of these evenings without Parker. It was hard to believe now that the night before she had been in Venice with him.
By sheer coincidence, she and her father were walking up the stairs to the private apartments at the same time. She heard his footsteps behind her, and turned to look, their eyes met and held, as she stopped on the stairs, and he walked up quietly and stood next to her.
“I'm sorry, Cricky,” he said softly, and she knew what he was referring to.
“Me too.” She nodded, turned, walked up the stairs to her own rooms, and softly closed the door, as he walked past to his own rooms.
She didn't see him again till two days later. She had to get a paper from his office, and saw him being interviewed. He was all over the papers these days, backing up the position he had taken, although it was becoming more and more controversial every day, and she had already noticed that they had discreetly increased palace security. He had three bodyguards with him everywhere he went, and Christianna suddenly had two. Although there were no direct threats, it seemed the prudent thing to do, and he always was, particularly about her. He had angered a lot of people, despite the fact that a vast number admired him for the position he had taken. Christianna was still angry at him, and would be for a long time, but she admired him for his courage at the UN. He was a man of integrity and strong beliefs.
She had spoken to Parker several times once he got back. He sounded tired, but always loving when she called him. His e-mails were funny and cheerful. Sometimes he sent her jokes that made her laugh out loud. Most of the time he told her what he was up to, how the research was going, and how much he missed her. She said the same things to him.
For the next two weeks she was busy at the palace. She had taken on some new projects, continued doing her usual obligations, and was starting to talk to the foundation about working for them. She had decided not to study in Paris in the spring. She wanted to go to work for the foundation that had been established in memory of her mother. It was the only thing that she was interested in, and made sense for her to do. The week she met with them, Parker was in San Francisco for Thanksgiving. It was a holiday she had enjoyed a great deal while she was in Berkeley. She had gone home with friends each year, and wished that she could be with him now with his father and brother. But that was never going to happen.
She had just spoken to him, when she went outside with the dog, and noticed that her brother had just arrived. He had driven up in a brand-new Ferrari, red typically, and when he saw her, he seemed in a good mood, although she was still angry at him too, over his comments about her getting caught by the paparazzi in Paris. They had seemed rude and unusually unkind to her, even for Freddy.
“How are you, Your Highness?” he teased her, and she gave him a haughty look and then laughed.
“Am I supposed to use your title now?” She laughed at him. He was truly impossible, but he was her brother.
“Definitely. I expect you to curtsy, too. I'm going to run this place one day, you know.”
“I try not to think about that.” He would never have had the guts to do what their father had just done on the world scene, or the knowledge of how to do it. Their father had skated a thin line between warring forces and opinions, and had come out looking like a hero. Even Parker had been impressed, although he wasn't happy with him these days either.
“What do you think of my new car?” Freddy asked her, changing the subject.
“Nice. It looks expensive,” she commented with a smile.
“Rumor has it I can afford it, or our father can. I just bought it in Zurich.” She had to admit it was a beautiful car, although he had two others almost just like it, in the identical color. He seemed to have an unlimited appetite for expensive, fast cars, and equally expensive, fast women. He had a new one in his arms at the moment, and probably others no one had yet heard of. It was a constantly revolving harem. “Want a ride?” he offered enthusiastically, as she laughed and shook her head. The way he drove always made her carsick. Even the dog ran away when he opened the car door.
“I'd love to. Later. I've got an appointment,” she lied, and hurried back into the palace.
As it turned out, the three of them had dinner together that night. The atmosphere was a little strained, as their father was currently annoyed at Freddy about something, which he didn't want to discuss in front of Christianna. She sat quietly with both of them, enjoying their company for the first time in two months, since the incident with Parker. It was almost December, and they were talking about their plans for Gstaad over the holidays. They sounded like a normal family for once. No one was talking about politics, economic policies, or even what Freddy had most recently done wrong. They were very relaxed, Christianna laughed at her brother's jokes, and their father even guffawed a little, although some of the jokes were somewhat offensive, but as always, they were funny. Freddy was definitely the family clown.
As they got up from dinner, he tried to talk Christianna into taking a ride with him, yet again, in the new car. But it was cold outside, and the road was probably icy. They had had their first snowfall a few days before. Freddy looked profoundly insulted that she wouldn't accept his invitation, and turned to his father.
“What about you, Father? Want a quick ride before bedtime?” His father was about to say no, but he spent so little time with him as a rule, and was so angry at him so often, that Hans Josef hesitated and looked like he thought he should make the effort. And he was always too busy to do things like that in the daytime.
“If you promise it's only for a few minutes. I don't want to wind up in Vienna, while you demonstrate the efficiency of the engine.”
“I promise,” Freddy said, looking delighted, with a smile at his sister. It was almost like old times that night, when they were both younger. Freddy had had a passion for great cars even then. Nothing much had changed, except that she had grown up and he hadn't. She had made a commen
t about it at dinner, and to get even, he had called her his older sister, although he was ten years older, the same age as Parker.
Their father went out into the hall, and asked one of the men in footman's livery to get him his topcoat, and he returned with it a moment later. Freddy had had enough to drink at dinner that he didn't need one. And Christianna followed them both outside. Charles, her dog, was sound asleep upstairs in her bedroom.
There were security guards outside, chatting easily. They had just changed shifts, and didn't notice them come out at first. Christianna thought that was unduly casual of them, given the current increase in their security concerns at the palace, due to the spotlight of world politics being focused on her father at the moment. Within a few minutes, the guards on duty came over to chat with them, but she thought it had taken them too long to get there. She didn't want to say anything then and embarrass them, but she was going to mention it to Sylvie in the morning and have her report it.
“May I assume I'm going to enjoy a civilized ride with you, Friedrich?” their father said with a jocular air. He was in a good mood after their pleasant dinner. “Or will I need a doctor to administer tranquilizers after I get back?” It was his way of warning him not to go 150 miles per hour.
“I promise, I'll be nice.”
“Don't scare Papa too much,” Christianna warned him, and with that the two men slid into the long, low, incredibly sleek-looking car. It looked almost like a bullet.
They closed the doors, her father waved with the window closed, and his eyes met hers for a moment. There was something sorrowful in them, as though he were telling her again how sorry he was about Parker. She knew he wouldn't change his mind, but he was sorry for the grief that he had caused her. As she looked at him and nodded, as though telling him she understood, she felt Parker's ring on her finger, and the highly sensitive machine took off, with Freddy's foot hard on the gas. She had never before seen a car start so quickly. She was about to go back inside because she was cold, but decided to stand and watch for a minute. She wondered if Freddy had managed to terrify her father yet. He too had liked fast cars in his youth— perhaps it was genetic—but in her father's case, never fast women, only her mother, even until now.
H.R.H. Page 26
