Danielle Steel: H.R.H.

“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 no 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.