The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren

by Hollingsworth, Suzette

  His reactions are excellent. Had she been any closer…

  “Nicolette,” he murmured, as if he loved the sound of her name on his lips. “Oh my God, I might have hurt you! Mi vida.”

  She bit her lip. He made it so clear that any harm to her was harm to his own heart.

  In an instant, a smile crossed his face and he moved towards her.

  His hair was brushed back, emphasizing his strong facial features. He had clearly been the recipient of a haircut but dark waves still formed along the nape of his neck.

  Nicolette’s heart warmed to see him even as she felt it would burst. In this moment he was not the king of Spain but her love.

  It was Alejandro’s fate to play many roles. As he stood there with his muscular build in sportsman’s attire.

  “Have you come to answer me? I did not ask you properly, but let me assure you it is the greatest wish of my heart to make you my Queen.”

  Involuntarily, she shook her head. His expression plunged as he dropped his strong arms to his side, letting the sword fall to the ground without a glance. He was crushed, but he merely nodded in acceptance.

  “Alejandro, listen. You don't understand.” She moved towards him.

  * * *

  He felt the life draining out of him. If Nicolette was not with him, he had no life.

  It was the outcome he expected, but there must have been some glimmer of hope, because Alejandro suddenly felt as if he could not stand.

  “Of course, you could have sung for our guests at the royal palace. But that is not the same as singing professionally and working with the finest composers of the day, I see that now.” He strove to balance himself and managed to find his voice. “There is the Teatro Real behind the palace, quite a fine opera house, but La Scala in Italy is the most famous opera house in the world.”

  Why am I rambling on? It is over. It is pointless. All I am doing is humiliating myself before the woman I love.

  “I have always dreamed of singing at La Scala.”

  “Did you ever think, my love, that you might stay in Italy for half the year and then return to Espána? I could vacation several weeks out of the year in Italy. It is unconventional but there is always the first person to do something.”

  Why won’t I cease this blithering? All hope is gone from my life and suddenly I am a brainless idiot.

  Alejandro forced a smile. Her choice is made and there is no point to begging.

  He felt as he had so many years ago, knowing it was useless to plead even though his heart was breaking.

  “I have never believed in doing anything half-way.”

  “Naturally being on the professional circuit is not the same as singing for royal assemblies, private parties, and world courts.” He looked away momentarily. This was the most empty and pointless conversation of his life. In no way would it affect the outcome.

  “No, not at all the same,” she agreed.

  “Being king is a full-time job as well requiring everything I have to give. I should have known.” He turned away from her for a moment, picking up the sword and putting it in his sheath which he set on the table. He needed something to do to avoid looking into her eyes. So beautiful and mesmerizing.

  “No, Alejandro, you don't understand.” She took her hand and placed it against his cheek. “You have never understood me.”

  That is the bloody truth.

  “What is it, mi cielita?” He only had these next few days with her. Whatever mistake he had made, he would make it right.

  “You have always second-guessed me from the moment of our meeting, Alejandro, assuming you understand my thoughts and my character. You never have. When will you learn to ask me what I am about instead of telling me?”

  “I am sorry, mi vida. Please forgive me. What do you wish to tell me?” He searched her face.

  “I only wish to be your wife, Alejandro,” she whispered, her expression joyful. “But I will be your Queen as well, to the best of my ability.”

  “You will marry me?” The king of Spain fell to his knees and took both her hands, kissing them.

  “I do not know how long I will have with you, Alejandro: maybe a day, maybe forty years.” She nodded, her eyes glistening. “But I cannot bear to be apart from you, to not enjoy whatever time life might grant us.”

  “What has happened to change your mind?” He dared not question her too much, but he sensed she had initially decided against him.

  “I have never refused a gift from the heavens, and I won't begin now. I will live every day to the fullest, and I will live it with you, the most amazing man I have ever known.”

  Alejandro looked up at her unable to believe her words, feeling his heart might burst from joy. He returned to his feet, taking her into his arms and kissing her with all the amour he felt, holding her tightly against his body, afraid to let her go. After he had thoroughly kissed her, giving her some inkling of what was yet to come, he pulled her to sit beside him on the couch, taking her hands in his.

  Why am I lying to myself? Suddenly his heart fell. If Nicolette was not happy, it would slowly destroy him.

  She could never be happy without her singing career.

  “And what about your operatic dreams, Nicolette? You must pursue them. You will sing at La Scala, I will join you there for some weeks, and then we will return home to Espána. You have worked all your life for this end. There can be no other solution.” He forced a smile. Six months of heaven out of the year was far more than he had ever hoped for.

  “You are yet again telling me what I need, your majesty. Which I am very well able to ascertain for myself.” She laughed, her glistening coal black hair falling loose around her shoulders, her eyes almost swallowing him whole.

  “Of course, but how can you give up opera...?”

  “It has never been about the fame for me, you never understood that, Alejandro. It has been about giving to my audience, sharing something of the divine. Being in the divine. I simply needed an audience to meet those ends.”

  “I see …” he murmured. But he didn’t, not at all. How could she choose him over a singing career? He could never fulfill her in the same way.

  “I will have a different audience in Spain with different needs but an audience nonetheless. I will not draw on the same talents as queen. I will have to learn once again what the audience needs from me and what it is within my power to give. You will help to teach me our purpose, and we will work towards that goal together.”

  “The Teatro Real is a magnificent opera house,” Alejandro considered. “We will import the world's finest opera singers, and Espána shall build a name for herself.”

  “No, I will never sing for the public again.” She shook her head. But rather than sadness, there was a light in her eyes, and her entire expression glowed.

  “What are you saying Nicolette?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Unless you are present, my love.”

  “Whatever do you mean, Nicolette?” Alejandro swallowed hard, feeling amazed and confused not with pain but with hope. “What are you telling me?”

  “Henceforth, I shall only sing for you, Alejandro.” She smiled at him, her aquamarine eyes more sparkling than he had ever remembered.

  “No one else will hear you sing? No one but me?” He was stunned.

  “I will sing for your private parties, for your gatherings, for your purposes. But my heart will only be for you.” A slow smile formed on her lips, and he knew she was serious. “I shall never sing again unless you are present in my audience, Alejandro. Because, I will only sing…for you.”

  He stared at her, stunned and confused. Her sacrifice, her love, everything she was. “You are doing this for Espána?” He was still blathering, searching wildly for an explanation for this behavior which was so contrary to everything he knew about her. And contrary to what he felt he deserved.

  “No, Alejandro. For you, only for you.” She laughed, watching him, as she moved to close the space between them, touching
his cheek. She was so near that her breath mixed with his.

  Nicolette ran her finger along his lips, as if memorizing them. “I will come to love Spain. I will love all that you love. And when I sing, it will be a treat to receive a private concert from the Queen of Spain. I will use my gift to truly serve the people of Spain. Once a year we will have a festival, invite great singers, and put on operas for the people of Spain. But only if you are present in the audience.”

  “Why? Why would you do this for me, Nicolette?” he managed to ask.

  “Because my heart is one with music. And I give my heart to you.”

  In an instant, Alejandro felt surrounded by love. He was wrapped in it, caressed by it, and he knew what it was to be loved and to be given everything.

  If this woman, this incredible woman, loved him so thoroughly, he must count for something.

  I must exist. He was no longer invisible to himself.

  “Mi vida, It would break my heart if I broke yours.” He took her by the shoulders. “It would be a travesty to deprive the world of such a voice.” He loved her too much: now more than ever.

  “Alejandro, all my life I have followed my heart, don't expect me to stop now. If you want me, you must accept this about me.”

  “Oh, I want you, Nicolette, there can be no question about that.” He wanted to take her right now. But when that happened, she would be his wife. “All my life I have wanted something impossible to attain. I thought it was the same with you. And suddenly I want for nothing.”

  He kissed her slowly, deeply, feeling as if he were floating in heaven.

  59

  Coronation

  “Hail to you

  Who are consecrated!

  You pushed through the night”

  - THE MAGIC FLUTE by Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart

  “Viva España, vida al rey.” Pope Pius X lowered the crown onto Alejandro's head, kneeling before the king, as he prayed for the new ruler and for Spain.

  There was complete stillness and quiet through-out the cathedral as the crown reached King Alejandro de Bonifácio's head. The pope made the sign of the cross over the king's forehead, anointing him with oil. King Alejandro kissed the pope's ring and turned to face his people.

  “God save King Alejandro!” was shouted amidst the sound of trumpets, in great contrast to the stillness only seconds ago. San Jerónimo el Real's gothic arches three stories in height framed the scene, the altar behind them. A painting depicting Christ's ascension into heaven with his disciples by his side completed the frame.

  Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten with celestial fire, the choir sang. Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost thy seven-fold gifts impart.

  Thy blessed Unction from above is comfort, life, and fire of love. Enable with perpetual light. The newly anointed king, carrying a sceptre and wearing a crown, began walking the twenty-foot wide aisle, his red velvet and ermine stole trailing behind him, as the choir burst into the coronation chorus.

  Pope Pius X, born Giuseppe Melchiorre Sarto, preceded King Alejandro. Following behind his royal highness was the Archbishop, the Garter King of Arms, and fifty clergymen in white robes.

  This is where his life—and his purpose—begins. All of Alejandro's life had been leading up to this moment, Nicolette knew.

  Will law and justice, in mercy, be executed in all your judgments? She heard Pope Pius' questions replay in her mind, just as she heard Alejandro's firm answer, “The things which I have promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me God.”

  She was overcome with emotion as she watched Alejandro. Reflecting on the Pope's prayers, Nicolette considered that this man who had been so wounded would make the best kind of ruler: insightful, empathetic, and with a servant's heart.

  He did not see his crown as divine right: he saw himself as a laborer for the people, as a worker, as someone who had been given a difficult and unpleasant task but who was required to perform it or die trying.

  Alejandro identified with the people. He was the people. He lacked the desire to live solely for himself.

  And he is the strongest person I know.

  “To comfort all those who, in this transitory life, are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity.” Nicolette loved him more with every breath she took. She admired his discipline and devotion. Because ‘duty’ was intertwined with every cell of his body, he could not be separated from it.

  And I will no longer try. This was who he was. He had stretched himself to the limit to ask her to be his wife.

  She would love him. And she would find ways to satisfy her own soul and her need for expression and for music.

  My life will be shared with Alejandro.

  She knew it would not be an easy road. Far from it. She sighed heavily. Her life would truly not be her own, which was all she had ever wanted. She relished her independence. Being born female in a world controlled by men, every fiber of her being had wanted her life to be of her own making.

  For a short time, she had it. Perfect, beautiful freedom to be who she was. She had it in opera. The moment she was on stage everything she was made to be came together and time stood still.

  She wanted to give this same gift to Alejandro every day. She wanted to see joy on his face. She wanted to feel their love for each other as pure bliss.

  Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit. The Pope turned to give the Benediction as he raised his arms. That we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

  Alejandro had the rare gift of knowing his purpose. And because the genuine nature of his feeling was so exposed, people pledged their allegiance to him.

  I am no different. She would never leave him. She would stand beside him no matter what. She would love him. And she would receive his love.

  Until death do us part, she whispered.

  God save the King.

  60

  Royal Wedding

  “How should you understand

  All the love

  That is in my heart?

  Even after death I shall still love you”

  - La traviata by Giuseppe Verdi

  March 26, 1904, Madrid

  Madrid was giddy with jubilation.

  Every newspaper in Spain—and most in the rest of the world—covered the event, from El Heraldo de Madrid to La Época to ABC.

  It was the wedding day of the king of Spain, Alejandro Bartolomé Vicenté Ezequiel de Bonifácio, and the exquisite Lady Nicolette Genevieve Marvella Stanton Huntington, great-granddaughter of the Duke of Salford and daughter of the 5th Earl of Ravensdale.

  And a former opera singer. A woman of the stage.

  Despite the surprise of the king's choice of a bride, and the disapproval of many in high political circles, or perhaps because of it, there was unprecedented interest in this royal wedding. An unmistakable sense of expectancy flooded Spain's capital, brilliant with sunlight, spring flowers, banners, and musicians.

  Eight white horses wearing enormous purple plumes pranced with as much pride as any of Spain's subjects, leading a white carriage carrying King Alejandro de Bonifácio to Pardo Palace where his majesty's bride joined him in the carriage. The two continued to the San Jerónimo el Real Cathedral together, the site of their wedding nuptials.

  The bride's family provided the dress, as was tradition. Every detail of the beauty’s attire was, of course, in the newspapers. It caused a stir of approval among the general populace that the dress was completed under the bride’s aunt’s supervision. Lady Nicolette’s Aunt Julianne, only ten years older than the young bride, inherited her own Aunt Jane's talent which had first turned the head of the Duke of Salford towards a vicar's daughter.

  From the vicarage to the throne.

  The future queen's gown was an ivory silk bustled dress with gatherings all along its six-foot train. San Jerónimo’s architecture required the attachment of a longer train in order to adorn the long walk down the c
athedral aisle. The exquisite gown was fitted at the bosom, waist and half-way down the hips. Gathers in a seam down the front length of the dress formed a fitted silhouette accentuating the bride’s hourglass figure, adding layers around the hips. A low-cut square neckline was adorned with rose-point lace; long sleeves opened just below the elbow into V-shaped lace, further accenting the hip-line. Elbow-length lace gloves added elegant femininity.

  Lady Nicolette wore drop pearl and diamond earrings and a three-tier pearl necklace belonging to her mother. Atop glossy coal black curls adding fully three inches to her height was a family heirloom of King Alejandro's: a diamond tiara consisting of swirls of diamond interlocking circles and a large drop diamond in the front. The bride carried fire-and-ice roses.

  What glorious music! A wedding processional—and a king's coronation—should always be played by trumpets as far as Nicolette was concerned. If she had been descending down a hillside, it would not have been more dramatic than walking down the aisle of San Jerónimo el Real Cathedral.

  As Nicolette began the long walk to Henry Purcell's Trumpet Voluntary, her train trailing behind her and her father on her arm, she turned and smiled rather than looking straight ahead. Her stage experience made this seem quite the natural thing to do.

  And her new audience loved it, except for the most staid and pompous among the exclusive guests. There will always be those who elevate their opinion of themselves by criticizing others.

  It is a mistake to allow this type to steal one’s joy.

  It almost seemed to Nicolette as if her entire life had prepared her for this moment, giving her the surreal sense it was by divine plan.

  As she walked down the aisle, Nicolette observed many heads of state. Most of them knew her as well as Alejandro though possibly not as intimately.

  She saw all the people she loved smiling joyfully: her mother, Lady Elaina and Dr. Stanton, her brother Lance, Aunt Julianne, Enrico Caruso, the Marchesi, Monsieur Beaumaris, and Esteban.