“You've just come back from four years in the States. You had a great deal of freedom there”—in fact, more than he knew—“but now you have to accept who you are and all that goes with it. It's time for you to come home, not time to run away. You can't run away from this, Christianna. I know. I tried myself when I was young. In the end, this is who we are, and all that comes with it is what we must do.” It sounded like a death sentence to her as tears rolled down her cheeks, grieving the freedom she would never know or taste, the things she would never do. For this one year of her life, she wanted to be just like everyone else. Her father was saying that it was impossible for her. This was the one gift she wanted from him now, before it was too late. If she was ever going to do it, this was the time.
“Then why is Freddy still running around the world, doing whatever he wants?”
“For one thing”—her father smiled at her—“your brother is immature,” as they both knew, and then her father's face grew serious again. He knew this was an important subject to her. “For another, he's not in dangerous areas, or at least not technically or geographically, or due to circumstances like the ones you just experienced in Russia. Your brother creates his dangers himself, and they are far more harmless than anything you would encounter working for the Red Cross. You would spend a year, or however long, doing things like what you just went through. Nothing untoward happened this time, thank God, and you came to no harm. But you could have. If they had in fact blown up the school, without announcing it first, you could have gotten hurt, or worse.” He shuddered thinking of it. “Christianna, I am not sending you out into the world to be killed, or mauled, or exposed to tropical diseases or natural disasters, political unrest, or violence of any kind. I simply won't do it.” He was adamant about it, as she had known he would be, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. It meant too much to her now. And she knew that even if she went to work at her late mother's foundation, he would not allow her to travel to rigorous areas with them, even for visits. All he wanted was to protect her, but that was exactly what she was so tired of and didn't want.
“Will you at least think about it?” she begged him.
“No, I won't,” he said, and then stood up. “I'll do anything I can and everything you want to make your life better and more interesting here. But forget the Red Cross, Christianna, or anything like it.” He looked at her sternly, bent to kiss her, and before she could say more, he strode out of the room. The discussion was over. And for hours afterward she sat alternately depressed and angry, fuming in her room. Why was he so unreasonable? And why did she have to be a princess? She hated being royal. She didn't even answer her e-mails from the States that night, which she usually loved to do. She had too much else on her mind, and had seen too much.
She avoided her father entirely for the next two days. She rode her horse, and went running with her dog. She cut ribbons at an orphanage and another home for the elderly. She read on tape for the blind, and spent time at the foundation, and hated all of it. She wanted to be anyone other than who she was, and anywhere other than at home in Vaduz. She didn't even want to go to Paris. Above all, she hated her life, her ancestors, the palace, her father when she dared. She didn't want to be a princess anymore. It felt like a curse to her, and surely not a blessing, as she had been told all her life. She called Victoria in London to complain to her, and she told her to come back. But what was the point of that? She'd just have to come back to Vaduz again, and everything waiting for her there. Her German cousins invited her to come and stay, but she didn't want to go there either. And she refused to join her father for a trip to Madrid, to visit the king of Spain. She hated them all.
She had been raging for two weeks, in a deep gloom, when her father came to her. She had been avoiding him assiduously for days. He was well aware of her misery, and looked bitterly unhappy himself, as he sat down in a chair in her bedroom. In deference to him, she turned the music down. She had been using it to drown out everything that was in her head, and her sorrows. Even Charles looked bored, as he looked up at her, wagged his tail, and didn't bother to get up.
“I want to talk to you,” her father said quietly.
“About what?” she asked, still sounding petulant and surly.
“About your insane idea of signing up with the Red Cross. I want you to know I think it's an extremely bad idea, and if your mother were alive, she wouldn't even have considered talking to you about it. In fact, she'd have killed me for talking to you at all on this subject.” Christianna frowned as she listened to him. She was tired of his trying to convince her of what a bad idea it was. She had already heard it, several times too often, which was why at the moment she wasn't speaking to him at all.
“I know how you feel about it, Papa,” she said somberly. “You don't have to tell me again. I've heard it.”
“Yes, you have, and so have I. So you can listen to me one more time.” He almost smiled to himself, thinking that he might rule a country and thirty-three thousand subjects, but he was having a much harder time reigning over one daughter. He sighed, and then went on. “I spoke to the director of the Red Cross in Geneva this week. We had a long talk. In fact, at my request, he came here to see me.”
“You're not going to buy me off by having me volunteer in an office,” she said angrily, glaring at him, as he fought not to lose his temper, and succeeded. “And I'm not going to give a ball for them, here or in Vienna. I hate things like that. I find them disgustingly boring.” She crossed her arms across her chest as a signal of her refusal.
“So do I, but they're part of my job. And one day they may be part of yours, depending on who you marry. I don't enjoy all that either, but it's expected of us, and you can't simply decide that you don't want to be who you are. Others have done that before you, and made a mess of their lives. Christianna, you have no choice but to accept your fate here. We're very fortunate in many ways.” His voice mellowed a little as he looked at her. “Besides, we have each other, and I love you very much. And I don't want you to be unhappy.”
“I am unhappy,” she stressed again. “I lead a thoroughly useless, stupid, spoiled, indulgent life. And the only time I've ever done anything meaningful or worthwhile was two weeks ago in Russia.”
“I know that. And I know you feel that way. I understand. A lot of what everyone does, in any job, is meaningless and superficial. It's very rare to have an experience like the one you just had, where you are truly helping people in their direst moments. You also can't make a life of that.”
“The woman who ran the Red Cross operation in Russia does just that. Her name is Marque, and she's an amazing woman.”
“I know all about her,” her father said calmly. He had spent many hours with the head of the Red Cross who had come to see him from Geneva, and ultimately the prince had been satisfied with their conversation, although with grave reservations. “Cricky, I want you to listen to me. I don't want you to be miserable, or even unhappy. You absolutely must accept who you are, and understand to your very soul that you can't escape it. It is your fate, your destiny, and your obligation. And also a great blessing in many ways, although you don't see that yet. And part of that is that you must be a blessing to others, as you are, where you are, and not just try to deny it. You are a blessing to me as well, and one day, you will be to your brother. You know a lot more about this country than he does. And you will help him run it, even if from behind the scenes. In fact, I'm counting on you to do that. He will be reigning prince, but you will be his mentor and adviser. He can't run this country without you to guide him.” It was the very first time he had ever suggested that to her, and she was shocked. “How you deal with your responsibilities, your life, what you do about it, how miserable you make yourself ultimately is up to you. I want you to spend some time thinking about it. You cannot now, or later, or ever, escape who you are. I expect a great deal of you, Christianna. I need you. You are a Serene Highness. It is part of you, both your heritage and your job. Do you understand me?” H
e had never before made himself as clear in her entire life, and it frightened her and made her want to run away.
She wanted to avoid what he was saying but didn't dare, he was her father after all, whether a reigning prince or not. And she hated hearing what he said, because it was so painfully true, and she loathed being reminded of it. It was a burden she could not lighten, remove, or take off. Ever. And now he wanted to add Freddy's duties to her own. “I understand you, Father,” she said grimly. She only called him Father and not Papa when she was very angry. Just as he used her title, although rarely, when he was furious at her, which was rarer still.
“Good. Then if you understand me, we can go on,” he said, undaunted. “Because ultimately, you have no choice here. I will only discuss this with you if you truly accept who you are, and resign yourself to what you eventually must do. If you can't do it now, then I will give you some time to adjust to the idea, but sooner or later, you must come home to your responsibilities in Vaduz. To your own duties and obligations, and to help and guide your brother with his.” It was an awesome burden for her to hear what he expected of her, and would one day. It was worse than she had feared.
“I don't want to go to Paris,” she said, looking stubborn.
“I wasn't going to suggest Paris. And I don't like what I am going to suggest. But the Red Cross director himself has agreed to take full responsibility for you. He assured me, in fact he swore to me, that if I entrust you to him, you will come to no harm, and I intend to hold him to it. If even the slightest incident occurs, or any political situation becomes unpleasant, then you are coming home on the next flight without further discussion. But until then, I am agreeing to allow you to join one of their projects for the next six months. At most a year, if it goes smoothly. But after that, no matter what, you come home. And for now, I am only committing to six months. We'll see what happens after that. They have a project in Africa that they think might appeal to you. It was started by your friend Marque. It's primarily a center for women and children with AIDS, and it's one of the few peaceful parts of Africa at the moment. If that changes at any time, it's over and you come home. Is that clear?” There were tears in his eyes when he finished speaking to her, and she stared at him in amazement. She had never in a million years expected him to change his mind about what she wanted to do.
“Are you serious? Do you mean it?” She got up and threw her arms around his neck, unable to believe it. There were tears in her eyes too as she hugged him and kissed him. She was ecstatic. “Oh, Papa!” she said, moved beyond words, as he hugged her tightly.
“I'm probably completely insane to let you do this. I must be getting senile,” he said in a shaken voice. He had thought long and hard about it, and had remembered how anguished he had been himself at her age, wanting to do something more meaningful with his life. It had been an agonizing few years for him, and as crown prince he had been utterly unable to free himself from his duties, and had to live with his frustration. And then he had met her mother and married her and everything had changed. His father had died soon after, and he had become reigning prince. He had never had time to look back at those early unhappy days again, but he remembered them well when he jogged his memory, which was what had finally convinced him. And Christianna would never have the burden or responsibility of reigning. That lot would fall to her brother, and never to her, since women could not reign in Liechtenstein. All of that had finally led to his decision, although he had done so with enormous trepidation, and only because he loved her so much, which Christianna always knew, even when she was angry at him. She wasn't angry at him now. She had never in her life been as grateful or as happy.
“Oh, Papa,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “When can I go?”
“I want you here for the holidays. I'm not going to be here without you, selfish as it sounds. And it is. I told the director you can go in January, or later if you prefer, but not before. They need time to get ready for you anyway. They're setting up some new programs there, and they don't want any new volunteers until at least then.” She nodded. She could live with that. It was less than four months away. She could hardly wait.
“I promise, I'll do everything you want me to, until I leave.”
“You'd better,” he said with a rueful grin at the daughter he loved so much, “or I might change my mind.”
“Please don't!” she said, looking like a child again. “I promise I'll behave.”
The only thing she regretted about it was that she would be leaving before her brother returned. But she would see him when she got back, or perhaps he'd come to visit, since he had very little to do in Vaduz, and loved to travel. He had been to Africa himself several times. She could hardly wait for her adventure to begin. She had never been so happy in her life. And afterward, when she had to come home, she would have to make her peace with it. As her father said, it was her destiny, and her lot in life. And maybe then, she'd go to work for the foundation, and one day run it, since her brother had no interest in it, and when he succeeded their father, he would no longer have time. The thought of guiding him still frightened her. It was something she'd have to face eventually, she knew. But first she had her time in Africa to think about. She could think of nothing else.
“You have to do several weeks of training in Geneva before you leave. I'll give you the director's number, and you can have your secretary set it up with him. Or perhaps they can send someone to train you here.” She didn't want special favors from them, she wanted more than anything to be the same as everyone else. If only for this one precious year. It was her last chance.
“I'll go to Geneva,” she said quietly, without telling him why.
“Well then,” he said, standing up. “You have much to think about and much to celebrate.” He paused in the doorway and looked back at her, and for just a moment he looked like an old man. “I'll miss you terribly while you're gone.” And worry about her constantly, but he didn't tell her that. He looked tired and sad as he stood at the door.
“I love you, Papa … thank you … with all my heart,” she said, and he knew it was heartfelt. He knew he had done the right thing for her, no matter how hard it was for him. And he would send people to protect and safeguard her, there would be no argument with that.
“I love you too, Cricky,” he said softly, nodded, smiled at her, and left the room with tears in his eyes.
Chapter 6
Once her father had agreed to let her work for the Red Cross, Christianna threw herself into her duties in Vaduz with renewed energy, cutting ribbons, visiting the sick and elderly, reading to orphans, and attending diplomatic and state events with her father, without a single word of complaint. He was touched by the efforts she made, and hopeful that she would be ready to adjust to the duties of her royal life with more equanimity when she got home. She could hardly wait to leave for Africa in January, and had had a note from Marque, who had heard via the grapevine that Christianna would be going to Africa. She thanked her again for her efforts when they had met, and wished her well on her new adventure. She was excited for her. She said it would be an experience she would never forget. Marque still went to Africa herself at every opportunity, and said she might come to visit while Christianna was there.
Neither Christianna nor her father was prepared for Freddy's reaction when Christianna sent her brother an e-mail, telling him her plans. He was incensed, and violently opposed to the idea. He called their father, and did everything he could to convince him to change his mind. But much to Christianna's relief, her father held firm. After arguing with his father about it unsuccessfully, Freddy decided to call her himself.
“Are you out of your mind?” he said angrily. “What are you thinking, Cricky? Africa is dangerous, you have no idea what you're doing. You'll get killed by natives in some local uprising, or you'll get sick. I've been there, it's not a place for you. Father must be insane.” She was relieved that Freddy hadn't been able to make him renege, although he had certainly tried.
/> “Don't be silly,” she said blithely, although his fury unnerved her a little. “You spent a month there last year, and you had a wonderful time.”
“I'm a man,” he said stubbornly, as she rolled her eyes. She hated it when he said things like that.
“Don't be stupid. What difference does that make?”
“I'm not afraid of lions and snakes,” he said, sounding cocky. He felt sure she would be terrified of both.
“Neither am I,” she said bravely, although she definitely wasn't enthused about snakes.
“Like hell you're not. You nearly had a heart attack when I put a snake in your bed,” he reminded her, and she laughed.
“I was nine.”
“You're hardly older than that now. You should be at home where you belong.”
“Doing what? I have nothing to do here, and you know it.”
“You can go to dinner parties with Father, or find a husband. Do whatever princesses are supposed to do.” She was still trying to figure that out herself. “I hear Victoria just got engaged again, by the way. The crown prince of Denmark? That won't last.” Christianna didn't argue with him, they both knew her too well. In fact, Christianna had just heard from one of her German cousins that Victoria was getting bored with him, although everyone said he was a very nice man. Christianna couldn't actually imagine her marrying anyone, at least not for a long time. “Stupid girl,” Freddy muttered. “She's obsessed with getting married. I don't see how any man could stand being married to her, although I have to admit, she's a lot of fun.”
“What about you?” Christianna asked plaintively. “When are you coming home? Aren't you bored yet?”
“No,” he said, sounding mischievous, “I'm having way too much fun.”
“Well, it's not fun around here without you. I'm bored to death.”
“That's no excuse for you to go running off to Africa, and trying to get yourself killed.” He actually sounded worried about her. Although he teased her constantly, and had tormented her as a child, he adored her, and had been sorry to hear she'd be gone by the time he got home. He was seriously thinking of going to visit her, if she actually persisted in what he considered her totally mad plan.
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