by Price, Sarah
“That’s enough now,” Alejandro said when two more groups approached. “I’m trying to enjoy the day with my lovely wife.”
Amanda reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his. She looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “One more for these people,” she said in a quiet voice. “They’d be so disappointed.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “For you, Princesa,” he said.
Five minutes and four more photographs later, Alejandro put his foot down. Taking her hand, he led her along the rest of the tour.
“You shouldn’t encourage it,” he warned her. “Not in public, Amanda.”
“Why ever not?” She frowned. “Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t understand why.”
He glanced over his shoulder to make certain that they weren’t being followed. “Remember Lititz? When you had the broken leg? Remember how the mob materialized so quickly?”
She swallowed and nodded her head. How could she forget being shoved to the side and falling to the ground as the crowd surrounded Alejandro? “Ja, I do.”
“You grant one photo to this person, and then ten more show up. You feel guilty, you pose with those ten people, and then twenty more show up. At what point do you stop, Amanda? If you do not, you eventually put yourself at risk.”
He stopped in front of a massive painting on the wall, admiring the piece of art. “Look at this painting, mi amor.”
Standing beside him, she peered at the painting of a man on a large white horse riding through an arched doorway. On foot was a man draped in a red cape who seemed to greet him, while on the other side of the painting, tucked into the shadows, was a crown fit only for a king.
“It’s almost as magnificent as this room,” she said. “Such attention to detail, don’t you think? Painting is truly a God-given talent, I think.”
Alejandro smiled at her comment. He reached for her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as he guided her through the room. “This was the State Dining Room,” he said. “Such beautiful woodwork on the ceiling, sí?” He pointed upward and she followed his gaze. The ceiling was covered in an intricate design of moldings painted in gold. She had never seen something so ornately beautiful.
“People lived like this while so many suffered from hunger?”
“It happens today, too, Amanda,” he replied slowly. “Look at us. We are not living in poverty, mi amor.”
She stared at him, horrified. “I had not thought of it that way!”
Prior to meeting Alejandro, she’d had limited exposure to the Englische, although she’d understood from the beginning that Alejandro lived an atypical lifestyle. Yet she had not given it much thought. The condominium in Miami was beautiful, as was the apartment in Los Angeles. But she had nothing to compare it to. She had no sense of how their lifestyle compared to others, although she knew it was not reflective of the average Englische household.
“I see your wheels turning,” he said in a lighthearted tone. “I give plenty to charity, Amanda, especially in the Latino communities. Relax.”
They wandered through the rest of the living quarters and staterooms, pausing several times to admire paintings and statues. In one room, Alejandro pointed out three portraits. One was of a robust man wearing a flat-top hat. His face appeared bloated to Amanda, and she wasn’t particularly impressed with him from a physical perspective. When she learned he’d been the king of England, she could hardly believe it.
“And this was his second wife.” Alejandro pointed to another portrait. “Anne Boleyn. After a few years, he had her beheaded.”
“Be-what?”
Alejandro’s mouth quivered as he tried not to laugh. “Beheaded.”
“You mean . . . ?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. “Oh help! How awful!”
“She must have been a very bad wife, sí?” he teased as she playfully slapped at his arm.
“You know a lot about this place,” she said as they kept moving through the castle.
He stopped in front of a window and stared outside at the gardens. “I like history,” he said. “Particularly European history during the medieval times.”
This was something new that Amanda was learning about her husband. She stood next to him on her tippy-toes, leaning her chin on his shoulder. From where they stood, she could see outside the windows onto the expansive gardens. Everything was neatly manicured and meticulously maintained. “How beautiful,” she whispered.
“Makes you think of your parents’ farm, sí?”
“I wonder if Lizzie is outside right now,” she said with a sigh. “Maybe she’s helping Anna with the garden.”
“I thought you’d say that,” he said, turning his head to press his lips against her cheek. “When we fly back to New York for that gala, I’ll arrange a visit.”
“Oh, Alejandro!” Amanda put her arms around his waist and hugged him. He had told her about the art gala in New York City, the one that they had been invited to by the vice president of a movie studio. But she had never imagined that Alejandro would offer to make a short stop to visit Isadora. “That would be wunderbar!”
“Just know, Princesa, it will be a very short visit. While you are excited now, leaving after such a short visit can be more painful than no visit at all,” he warned her. “No tears or feelings of guilt, sí?”
She nodded her head in agreement, although she suspected that, when they had to leave Isadora behind once again, no amount of preparation on his part would stop her from crying and feeling guilt.
They strolled down a circular staircase and exited the castle. Alejandro walked beside Amanda as they headed toward the gardens. Unlike the gardens that Amanda grew, these gardens were all flowers, not vegetables. Different areas were dedicated to one particular type of flower, often separated by pebble-strewn walkways with benches and fountains.
Alejandro sat down on a bench, and Amanda cozied up next to him.
“It is so beautiful here,” she gushed. “I never knew places like this existed!”
He smiled and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “The world’s an amazing place, Princesa. You have yet to see Africa or Asia or even Israel.”
She gasped. “Israel! Have you been there, then?”
He nodded. “And so will you. We have a concert in Tel Aviv in the fall.”
“Oh, Alejandro! Will we . . . ?” She paused, not wanting to ask anything of him.
But he read her mind. “You wish to see Jerusalem, sí?” When she nodded with a sheepish look on her face, he laughed. “But of course, Princesa. How could I possibly take you to Tel Aviv and not spend time exploring that magnificent country?”
The moment of excitement passed as Amanda realized that if they were traveling to Israel, there would be other countries on the schedule. That meant another season of constant travel. “Where else are you scheduled to perform this autumn?” she asked, apprehensive about his answer.
“Singapore, Tokyo, Shanghai, and then down to Australia for two weeks.” When she didn’t respond right away, he leaned over and pressed his arm against hers. “¿Qué, Amanda?”
“Nothing, Alejandro.”
But he saw through her feeble attempt to brush over her concerns.
“Amanda . . .”
She didn’t want to say anything to dampen his mood. They had, after all, only just gotten past the pain from the South American tour. Now she was traveling with him through Europe, committed to making their marriage work, however unconventional it was.
“I don’t know where many of those places are,” she finally said.
“Ah. Sí. Claro.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Such wonders you will see,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against her skin. “But none as beautiful as you are to me.”
She felt a shiver rush through her body, and she shut her eyes. Wherever these places were—Singapore, Tokyo, Shanghai, Australia—all that mattered was that she woke each morning with Alejandro. Whatever country they visited and whatever hotel they slept
in, that was her castle—a fortress of love and safety found only in the protection of his arms.
“Ah, the Princesa is still here?”
Amanda cringed when she heard Enrique walk up behind her. It had been such a lovely day. The last thing she wanted was for Enrique to ruin it. Just hearing his voice made her think back to that week spent on the ranch in Argentina. The way he moved between women, not caring who they were or what they wanted as long as he got what he wanted, made her feel sick.
“I’ve asked you before, Enrique: please don’t call me that,” she said as politely as she could. She hated when Enrique used Alejandro’s nickname for her, mockery dripping from his voice.
But Enrique wasn’t one to care about what she thought, their dislike for each other increasingly apparent: hers because she disagreed with his lifestyle, and his because she didn’t swoon over him. “Alright then, A-man-da,” he said, enunciating her name. “I’m surprised you are still here, seeing how you ran from the last tour.” He leaned toward her. “You missed some good times in Mexico. Spain too, for that matter.”
She felt her body tense at his insinuation.
He stood too close to her, invading her personal space, so she moved away from him. This only caused him to step closer and reach out to touch her neck.
She spun around and slapped at his hand.
He backed away, holding up his hands as if to proclaim his innocence. “There was a fly . . .”
She narrowed her eyes, knowing full well that there had been no fly or anything else on her neck. “Don’t touch me!” she said as forcefully as she could.
Before he could respond, Alejandro walked into the room. He leaned over and kissed Amanda’s cheek.
“¡Che, Enrique!” Alejandro knocked Enrique in the arm in a playful gesture that Amanda almost wished was not. “You ready for tonight?”
Amanda walked away from the two of them to the table full of food. She grabbed a paper plate and filled it with salad. Dealing with Enrique was not something she wished upon anyone. She couldn’t understand why so many women were attracted to him. She supposed he was attractive—on the outside, anyway. But knowing how he thought about and behaved toward women made him most unattractive on the inside—at least to Amanda.
“There you are!”
Amanda froze at Charlotte’s voice.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling your cell for thirty minutes!”
Amanda turned around, a guilty look on her face. She had forgotten her phone in the hotel room. Now that she was reunited with Alejandro, she had frankly forgotten about Charlotte.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda said.
“Well, I’ve found you now.” Charlotte reached for her arm. “Put that down. You can eat later. I have two people waiting to interview you.”
“Now? The concert is starting in less than an hour.”
A disapproving frown crossed Charlotte’s face. “That’s the best time for an interview, Amanda!” she snapped, clearly irritated that she had to explain this. “You know that the backstage buzz always makes them write more positive interviews. Come on now.”
With a sigh, she put down her plate. She had forgotten how hard it was to get a meal while on the road. Between the travel, concerts, and meetings, there was no regular eating schedule, that was for sure and certain. It was no wonder she felt so fatigued—especially with Charlotte making sure she was on the go all day long and Alejandro keeping her up well into the night. While Amanda loathed the former, she longed for even more of the latter.
“I found her!” Charlotte sang out as she led Amanda into a space adjoining the greenroom. A woman and a man stood up to greet them as they entered. It amazed Amanda how Charlotte could switch so quickly between being fierce and tough when things did not go her way to being upbeat and cheerful when they did. “Amanda, these people are here from On Tour magazine.”
Amanda extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
They each shook her hand. When she sat down, they followed her example.
“On Tour magazine,” Amanda said. “I’m not familiar with it.” She ignored the scowl that Charlotte sent in her direction.
The woman, who’d introduced herself as Marilyn Downes, quickly handed her a copy of the magazine. “We’re based out of the UK but distribute throughout Europe.”
“I see,” Amanda said, leafing through the magazine.
“How are you enjoying England?”
Amanda gave a soft smile. “It’s lovely, really. Alejandro took me to Warwick Castle today. Just amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Do you mind if I take some photos while you two talk?” the man asked.
“Of course not,” Amanda responded and made certain to remain composed and aware of how she sat. Posture, her former dance instructor had told her, is everything. Stedman had spent two entire days working with her on just that, making her practice keeping her shoulders down and elongating her neck. She vowed to never give anyone reason to give her “posture” lessons again.
Marilyn glanced down at the notepad on her lap. “We’d love to hear about your travels, Amanda. But also about how it feels to be so far away from home.”
Fighting the urge to squirm, Amanda kept her hands folded in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankle and under the seat. “By home, I trust you mean my parents’ farm, ja?” Marilyn nodded. “Vell, I’m glad to be back with Alejandro, but I do miss the farm.” Another scowl from Charlotte, and she wondered what she could have said wrong. She tried to expand on her answer. “Obviously, it is very different to be traveling so much. I’d never really traveled before.”
Marilyn raised an eyebrow. “But you were traveling through New York when you met Viper, correct?”
Amanda nodded. “Ja, I was. I was returning from Ohio. My schwester and I were visiting family and then returning home by train. It went through New York City.”
“But that is much different from traveling to so many countries, wouldn’t you say?”
“Of course!” Amanda smiled and gave a little laugh. “I didn’t even know some of these countries existed.”
At Amanda’s comment, Marilyn frowned. “Amish aren’t big on geography?”
Amanda kept smiling as she pondered an appropriate response. She didn’t want to say anything that would make the Amish look even more insulated than the media portrayed them. “I suppose that the district leaders see little purpose in learning about so many different countries that their people will never visit,” she said at last.
Her response seemed to placate Marilyn, who continued on to her next question. “What’s been your favorite country so far?”
That was an easy question. While South America was beautiful, the different architecture and the culture fascinating to her, Amanda had not enjoyed the permissive culture. “It’s nice to be in England. I can understand the language and everyone has been very kind to me.”
“And the castle?”
Amanda nodded. “Of course. That was quite special to see.”
“Your life certainly has changed a lot over the past year.”
Another easy question, although Marilyn stated it as a fact. “Ja, it has.”
“Any regrets?”
Too many, she thought. Not being there for her parents when her father had a stroke. Not having faith in Alejandro when his former manager leaked photos of Viper with Maria in the Los Angeles apartment. Not staying with Alejandro in South America when she couldn’t take the pressure of juggling Isadora with the crazy life of being on tour. Not being able to stay with Isadora when she needed to fix her relationship with Alejandro. “Nee,” she said at last. “No regrets.”
Marilyn wrote something down on her pad of paper while the man snapped some photos. Amanda did her best to ignore his camera, feeling uncomfortable with how close he got to her to take the pictures. “You just arrived in London earlier this week. For someone who hasn’t traveled too often, at least alone, that’s quite a journey!”
; “It was a little scary,” Amanda admitted. The truth was that when she traveled with Alejandro, she often forgot she was thirty thousand feet in the air. Traveling alone, however, made her far too aware of the fact that she was in an aircraft and not on the ground. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to flying. Seems unnatural to me. God would have given us wings if he meant for us to fly.”
Marilyn laughed, but Charlotte rolled her eyes and glanced at her phone.
“Still,” continued Amanda, “I wanted to be with my husband. So missing him took precedence over my fears, I reckon.”
“I’ll say.”
The interview was interrupted when Alejandro walked into the room. His presence immediately took over, for which Amanda was grateful. She was tired of the interviews. Dali and Charlotte were overscheduling her, and so many of the reporters asked the same questions so that Amanda felt as if she were a parrot, repeating herself over and over again. She tried to be more like Alejandro, who always responded as if it were the first time he’d heard those questions, even though she knew better.
“You are interviewing my Princesa? She is delightful, sí?” He sat down next to her, sliding his arm across the back of the sofa so that it rested just above her shoulders.
Marilyn nodded. “As expected,” she said. “It’s no wonder the world loves her.”
Amanda blushed and the photographer quickly snapped a photograph.
“Does that bother you, Amanda?” Marilyn asked.
“The world does not know me,” Amanda said honestly. “I don’t know how they can love someone they do not know.”
She ignored Charlotte’s scowl as well as Marilyn’s and Alejandro’s soft laughs.
“It’s true,” Amanda continued. “I’m just a person, no different from anyone else. I have good qualities as well as not so good qualities.”
“I’d like to see one!” Alejandro teased.
“No one is perfect,” Amanda chastised him gently. “We can only strive to do the best we can to mirror Jesus, loving our neighbor as well as honoring God above all others.” Even as she said the words, she realized she’d already failed that miserably. She would need to pray for more tolerance when it came to Enrique, a “neighbor” she found very difficult to like, never mind love.
