H.R.H. Read online

  Half an hour later Christianna was back in the office, looking every inch a princess in a pale blue Chanel suit with a white flower and black bow at the neck. She was carrying a small black alligator handbag that her father had bought for her in Paris, with matching black alligator shoes, her mother's pearls and earrings, and a pair of white kid gloves tucked into the pocket of her suit.

  She appeared elegant and youthful, with her long blond hair pulled neatly back in a long smooth ponytail. She was impeccable as she got out of the Mercedes sedan in front of the hospital and was warm and gracious as she greeted the head of the hospital and its administrators. She spoke a few words of thanks, acknowledging the work they would do there. She stopped to chat and shake hands with all the people pouring down the front steps to see her. They oohed and aahed at how pretty she was, how young and fresh she looked, how elegant her suit was, how unassuming her manner, and how unpretentious she was in every way. As she always did when she made public appearances, representing her father and the palace, Christianna went to considerable effort to make a good impression on all who met her, and as she drove away, everyone standing outside waved, and so did she, wearing the impeccable white kid gloves. Her visit to the hospital had been a complete success for all of them.

  She laid her head back against the seat for a minute as they drove to the home for the elderly, thinking about the faces of the children she had just kissed. She had kissed hundreds of others like them, since she had assumed her duties in June. It was hard to believe, and even harder to accept, that for the rest of her life this was all that she would do—cut ribbons, open hospitals and libraries and senior centers, kiss children and old ladies, shake hands with dozens of people, then drive away and wave. She didn't mean to be ungrateful for her blessings, or disrespectful to her father, but she hated every moment of it.

  She knew full well how lucky she was in so many ways. But thinking about it, and how futile her life was becoming and would continue to become over the years, depressed her profoundly. Her eyes were still closed as they pulled up in front of the senior center, and as the bodyguard who went everywhere with her opened the door for her, he saw two tears roll slowly down her cheeks. With a smile at him and the people waiting for her with looks of excitement and anticipation, with a white-gloved hand, she brushed the tears away.

  Chapter 2

  Prince Hans Josef stopped by Christianna's apartment that night, after his dinner for the ambassador to the UN. It had been an elegant party for forty people in the palace dining room and although he would have liked her there, Christianna wasn't missed. He had invited an old friend to help him host the event. They had gone to school together years before, she was a widow, and he thought of her as a sister. She was Freddy's godmother and had been a family friend for years. She was an Austrian baroness and had helped him to keep the conversation lively, not always an easy task at official events.

  Once outside Christianna's apartment, her father found the door open. He could see her on the living room floor, with her arms around her dog, playing the music she had brought back from America full blast. The dog was sound asleep in spite of the noise. The prince smiled when he saw them, and walked quietly into the room. Christianna looked up and smiled when she noticed him observing her.

  “How was dinner?” Christianna asked. He looked distinguished and tall in his dinner jacket. She had always been so proud of the fact that he was such a goodlooking man. He was truly the epitome of the handsome prince, and beyond that, a profoundly wise and kind man, who loved her more than life itself.

  “Not nearly as interesting as it would have been if you had been there, my darling. I'm afraid you would have found it very dull.” They were in full agreement on that. She was happy not to have gone. Her two official functions that afternoon, at the hospital and the senior center, had been enough. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Opening a library, and then I'm reading books to blind children, at an orphanage.”

  “That's a nice thing for you to do.” She stared up at him for a long moment, and didn't comment. They both knew that she was agonizingly bored and aching for something more important to do. She could see her life stretching ahead of her now, like an endless, bleak, and nearly intolerable road. Neither of them had anticipated how difficult her adjustment would be once she got home. It made him regret now that he had allowed her to go to California to college. Perhaps Freddy had been right. He had always said that he thought it was a bad idea. As outrageous as he was in his own life, Freddy had always been far more protective of her. And he was well aware of what a taste of a freer life could do to her. In the end, it had. She no longer felt suited to the life she was born to lead. She was like a beautiful racehorse trapped in a stall that was too small for her. Looking down at her, her father was acutely aware that she looked like any other young girl, playing her music too loud on her stereo. But they both knew all too well that she was no ordinary young girl. All Hans Josef could hope for her was that she would soon forget the inebriating taste of freedom she had become addicted to in the States. It was his only hope. If not, she would be miserable for a long time. Or even the rest of her life, which would be an awful fate for her.

  “Would you like to go to the ballet with me in Vienna on Friday night?” her father asked solemnly, desperately trying to think of things she might enjoy doing, to enliven her solitary life. Liechtenstein had strong ties with both Switzerland and Austria, and the prince frequently went to Vienna for the opera or ballet. Until just before the Second World War, the reigning princes of Liechtenstein had lived in Vienna. When the Nazis had annexed Austria in 1938, Hans Josef 's father had moved his family and the court back to Liechtenstein's capital to watch over the country's “Honor, Courage, and Welfare,” according to the princely “house laws.” They had been there ever since. Christianna's father was the embodiment of the family code of ethics, and the sacred oath he had taken when he became reigning prince.

  “That might be fun,” Christianna said, smiling up at him. She knew how hard he was trying to make her feel comfortable again. However much he loved her, his hands were tied. There was only so much he could do to ease her pain. To others, their lives may have looked like a fairy tale, but Christianna was in fact the proverbial bird in the gilded cage. And her father had begun to feel like her jailer. He had no easy solution at hand. It was going to be more fun for her when her brother got home from his extended stay in Japan, but having Freddy back always brought problems of a different kind. Life at the palace was a great deal quieter with the young prince away. They hadn't had a scandal to dissipate since he left, much to his father's relief.

  Hans Josef then came up with another idea. “Why don't you go to visit your cousin Victoria in London next week?” It might do her good to get away. The young marchioness of Ambester was a first cousin of the queen, and exactly Christianna's age. She was full of mischief and fun, and she had just gotten engaged to a Danish prince. Christianna's face lit up as soon as he suggested the idea.

  “That would be a lot of fun, Papa. You wouldn't mind?”

  “Not at all.” He beamed at her. It pleased him to think that she might have some fun. There was nothing very exciting for her to do in Liechtenstein. “I'll have my secretary arrange it in the morning.” Christianna quickly got up and put her arms around his neck, as Charles groaned, rolled over, and wagged his tail. “Stay with her for as long as you like.” He didn't worry about her getting out of control in London, as he did about his son. Christianna was a very well-behaved young woman, who was always cognizant of her responsibilities to her position and to him. She had had fun in Berkeley, for four years, but had never gotten even remotely out of hand, at least as far as her father knew. The two devoted bodyguards who had gone to Berkeley with her had managed to keep a lid on things once or twice. Nothing serious, but like any girl her age, even a royal one, there had been a few brief romances, and a night or two of too much fun with more than a little wine involved, but she had come to n
o harm, and never to the attention of the press.

  Her father kissed her goodnight, and she lay on the floor for a while longer, listening to the music, and then she got up and checked her e-mail before she went to bed. She had e-mails from her two college friends, checking in and asking her how her “princess life was going.” They loved to tease her about it. They had looked up Liechtenstein on the Internet, and had been stunned when they saw the palace in which she lived. It was beyond anything they could have imagined. She had promised to visit them both at some point, but for the moment had no plans to do so. Besides, she knew it would be different now. Their days of innocence and easy fun were over. Or at least hers were. One of her friends was already working in Los Angeles, and the other was traveling with friends for the summer. She had no other choice than to make peace with her own life, and make the best of it. She liked her father's suggestion of going to see her cousin in London.

  On Friday morning she drove to Vienna with her father. They had to travel across the Alps, and it was a six-hour trip to the family's previous seat, Palace Liechtenstein in Vienna. It was spectacularly beautiful, and unlike the palace at Vaduz, which was their main residence, parts of the palace in Vienna were open to the public. The part that she and her father occupied was heavily guarded and somewhat secluded. Her apartment there was far more ornate than her rooms in Vaduz, which were beautiful but somewhat more human scale. At Palace Liechtenstein, she had an enormous bedroom with a huge canopied bed, mirrors and gilt everywhere, and on the floor a priceless Aubusson carpet. It looked like a museum, and a huge chandelier hung overhead, still lit by candles.

  The familiar servants she had known all her life were waiting for her there. An ancient ladies' maid who had served her mother twenty years before helped her dress, while a younger woman drew her bath and brought her something to eat. She went to meet her father in his rooms at exactly eight o'clock wearing a black Chanel cocktail dress she had bought in Paris the year before. She was wearing small diamond earrings, her mother's pearls, and the ring she always wore, a chevalière with the family crest on it, on the little finger of her right hand. It was the only symbol she wore as a sign of her royal birth, and unless one was familiar with the crest, it was no more impressive than any other signet ring. The crest was carved into a simple oval of yellow gold. She had no need for symbols indicating who she was, everyone in Liechtenstein and Austria knew, and recognized her when they saw her, as they did throughout Europe. She was a remarkably pretty girl, and had appeared with her father just often enough to have caught the attention of the press for the past several years. Her brief disappearance to the States to study had been perceived only as a hiatus. Whenever she returned to Europe she was photographed, no matter how diligently she avoided it. And ever since she had come back for good, the press had been watching out for her. She was far more beautiful than most of the other princesses in Europe, and more appealing because she was so shy, reticent, and demure. It only excited journalists more because that was the case.

  “You look beautiful tonight, Cricky,” her father said affectionately as she walked into his room, and helped him with his cuff links. His valet was standing by to assist, but Christianna liked taking care of him, and he preferred it. It reminded him of the days when his wife was alive, and he smiled as he looked at his daughter. He and her brother and cousins were the only people in Europe who called her Cricky, although she had used the name in Berkeley when she went to school. “You look very grown up,” he said, smiling proudly at her, and she laughed.

  “I am grown up, Papa.” Because she was so small and delicate, she had always looked younger than her age. In blue jeans and sweaters or T-shirts, she looked like a teenager instead of the twenty-three-year-old she was. But in the elegant black cocktail dress, with a small white mink wrap on her arm, she looked more like a miniature of a model in Paris. She was graceful and lithe, her figure perfectly proportioned for her size, and she moved with grace around the room, as her father continued to smile.

  “I suppose you are, my dear, although I hate to think of you that way. No matter how old you are, in my mind, you will always be a child.”

  “I think Freddy thinks of me that way, too. He always treats me like I'm five.”

  “To us you are,” Prince Hans Josef said benevolently. He was just like any other father, particularly one who had been obliged to raise his children without a wife. He had been both father and mother to them. Both agreed he had done a remarkable job, and never failed them once. He managed to juggle his duties to the state and those as a father with affection, patience, wisdom, and an abundance of love. And as a result, all three members of their immediate family were extraordinarily close. And even though Freddy was badly behaved much of the time, he had a profound love for his father and sister.

  Christianna had spoken to her brother in Japan that week. He was still in Tokyo and having a wonderful time. He had been visiting temples, museums, shrines, and incredibly good although very expensive nightclubs and restaurants. Freddy had been the guest of the crown prince for the first several weeks, which had been too restrictive for him, and now he was doing some traveling on his own, with assistants, a secretary, a valet, and bodyguards of course. It took at least that many people to keep Freddy in even moderate control. Christianna knew what he was like. He told her the Japanese girls were very pretty, and he was going to China next. He still had no plans to come home, even for a visit, until the following spring. It seemed an eternity to her. While he was gone, she had no one even close to her age to talk to at home. She shared all her deepest confidences with her dog. She could talk to her father, of course, about important things, but for the daily banter that occurred among the young, she had no one at all. She had had no friends her own age as a child, which had made Berkeley even more wonderful for her.

  Christianna and her father arrived at the ballet in the chauffeur-driven Bentley limousine, with a bodyguard in front as well, in which they had traveled earlier that day from Vaduz. There were two photographers waiting outside, who had been discreetly informed that Prince Hans Josef and the princess would attend the performance that night. Christianna and her father didn't stop to speak to them, but smiled pleasantly as they walked in, and were greeted in the lobby by the ballet director himself, who led them to their seats in the royal box.

  It was a beautiful performance of Giselle, which they both enjoyed. Her father nodded off to sleep for a few minutes during the second act, and Christianna gently tucked her hand into his arm. She knew how heavily his duties weighed on him at times. He and his father before him had turned the country from an agricultural center into a major industrial force with a powerful economy and important international allegiances, like the one with Switzerland, that benefited them all. He took his responsibilities very seriously, and during his reign the country had flourished economically. In addition, he spent a considerable amount of time on his humanitarian interests. At the time of her death, he had established a foundation in his late wife's memory, and the Princesse Agathe Foundation had done an enormous amount of good work in underdeveloped countries. Christianna had been planning to talk to him about it. She was becoming more and more interested in working for the foundation, although he had discouraged her from doing so at first. He had no desire to allow her to join their workers on site in dangerous places. She wanted to at least visit them, and perhaps work in the administrative office if he allowed it, if she didn't go to the Sorbonne. He had made it clear that he preferred her to pursue her studies. She was hoping that if she started working for the foundation at the administrative level, she might be able to convince her father to let her take an occasional trip with the directors now and then. It was just her cup of tea. Theirs was one of the most prosperous and generous foundations in Europe, in great part funded by her father from his personal fortune, in memory of his late wife.

  They returned to Palace Liechtenstein shortly before midnight. The housekeeper had tea and small sandwiches waiting for them, a
nd Christianna and her father chatted as they ate them, talking about the performance. They often came to see the opera in Vienna too, and symphonies. It was close enough and provided a break from their otherwise serious routines, and Prince Hans Josef loved his little trips with his daughter.

  He encouraged her to do some shopping the next morning. She bought two pairs of shoes and a handbag, but she was saving her energy for London. The kind of things she bought in Vienna were what she wore at state appearances and formal ceremonies like the ribbon cutting. The clothes she bought in London she wore at home in Vaduz, or in her private life, when she had one, which she didn't at the moment. She had spent the last four years in jeans, and missed them now that she was at home. She knew her father didn't want her leaving the palace in them, unless she was driving out in the country. Christianna had to think of everything ten times before she did it—what she said, what she wore, where she went, with whom, even the casual comments she might make in public that could be overheard and misquoted later. She had learned already as a very young girl that there was no such thing as privacy or freedom for the daughter of a reigning prince. It would have been far too easy to embarrass him or cause a difficult diplomatic situation if she offended someone. It was something Christianna was acutely aware of, and made every effort to respect, out of love for her father. Freddy was far more casual about it, much to everyone's chagrin, when he found himself in the midst of some mortifying situation, which up to now he had done often. Freddy just didn't think. Unlike him, Christianna always did.