“Good morning, Your Majesty.”
Christiana inclined her head his way. “Good morning, Mayor Giusseppe.” She gestured to Alexander. “Have you met my husband, Alexander, Duke of Testudines?”
The mayor held out a hand, and Alexander took it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Royal Highness.”
“Likewise.” Alexander moved to her side and rested a hand on the small of her back.
The mayor led the way off the dock. “We have a car waiting for you and a bit of a parade route through Whisper Cove.” Most of the towns had. “Our first stop today is an orphanage the royal family has supported for many years, then the city hall where you’ll meet with the reporter from TCBC, and we’ll finish up with a ribbon cutting at our newest bed and breakfast.”
“Wonderful.” He stopped to let her get in the car first. She and Alexander sat forward facing while the mayor rode backwards. The route took them about two miles through town.
Christiana’s heart swelled as the crowds cheered and waved. More than once she saw someone in the crowd holding up a picture of her and Alexander from their wedding. The most common was the one of him kissing her forehead at the end of the ceremony. She needed to get a closer look at it. There seemed to be two versions - a full color one that most people held - and a backlit shadow one a few people did. Though reliable Internet access was available on the yacht, she had avoided anything to do with the wedding. Perhaps it was time.
The car pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript building with a welcome sign hanging over the door. With a deep breath, Christiana emerged from the car.
Time to get her happy on.
* * *
Alexander found himself twitterpated.
The word from the childhood movie was the only way to describe how he felt. Queen Christiana sat on the floor of the orphanage, a little girl sitting on her lap and a little boy at her side, as they listened intently to the story the twelve-year-old was reading.
He watched as she turned her head just enough to brush a kiss against the hair of the little girl. A glance to the other side told him the official photographer, the one that traveled on the yacht with them but rarely spent any time with them while on board, was immortalizing the moment. So was the cameraman flanked by the reporter they’d meet with later.
Alexander had figured out why their first interview was scheduled for today.
By this time, the queen was to have been dead.
As the newly appointed king, he would have been able to address the nation with a sympathetic view of himself caring for others even during his time of deepest sorrow.
Even if he had no such emotions.
Alexander’s stomach tightened at the thought of his beautiful wife lying cold and dead on a slab somewhere. He would have made sure the autopsy was delayed long enough for the toxins to disappear.
It wouldn’t have happened like that, of course. Princess Yvette of Mevendia would have become queen with her father as regent until she came of age, but obviously he hadn’t known that.
Though Alexander stood in the background, leaning against the wall with one ankle crossed over the other, he was aware of everything going on. The children were enthralled with the queen. It didn’t have as much to do with her royal status as everything to do with her. She was fabulous with them.
For a moment, everything else faded away. He saw her, sitting in a rocking chair at the palace, holding his child as she sang softly. Moonlight spilling in through one of the windows gave a soft glow around his toddler’s blond hair. She looked up at him, and everything he longed to see shone back at him in her eyes. Love. Trust. Then he looked down in his own arms.
Someone said something to him, interrupting his daydream.
After spending more than an hour with the kids, Christiana spoke for a few moments with the directors, asking for more information on a couple of their programs and thanking them for all of their hard work. Most of them also made small talk with him, but he was not the source of fascination like she was.
Not even like the Duchess of Cambridge had been when she married the heir to the throne of Great Britain. He supposed it was because so many girls wanted to be her and, in his experience, they were the primary consumers of that sort of information. The fascination surrounding her late mother-in-law didn’t hurt. He’d met both the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge after the wedding. They had been Britain’s official representatives and joined the young royals crowd. Sweden, Lichtenstein, Japan, Luxembourg, Norway, and several others had sent younger members of the families.
Regardless, they didn’t treat him quite the same way they treated either the Duchess or Queen Christiana.
Before long, they had retreated to the city hall. The route was much less crowded this time, though the few spectators represented the most ardent of the bunch. Once at the city hall, they found themselves situated in a sitting room, already set up with lights and cameras. Queen Christiana shook hands with the reporter. Alexander followed suit. The reporter gave him an odd look, one Alexander couldn’t quite figure out. Was he on to them? Had he discovered Alexander’s past? It wasn’t a secret per se, just not something he chose to discuss often, and he certainly didn’t want to overshadow Christiana’s first real interview as queen.
Alexander kept his arm stretched across the back of the couch behind her. There were sure to be at least a few difficult questions, and he wanted to be able to lend his support immediately when it happened.
“Your Majesty, Queen Christiana, thank you for agreeing to do this interview.”
“It is my pleasure, Matthew. Thank you for being willing to meet us here.”
“Most of Ravenzario isn’t familiar with your husband, the newly-titled Prince Consort Alexander, Duke of Testudines. Can you tell us how you met?”
She nodded. “We met a number of years ago when I attended a function at Baicampo, the property on Bianisola long owned by his family. We saw each other from time to time at official gatherings, balls, and so on. However, it wasn’t until about eighteen months ago that we began to see each other regularly and realize there could be something more between us.”
“Eighteen months ago? The public wasn’t aware of what was going on until several months later, but wasn’t that about the time the case began to build against your uncle?”
“Yes. Alexander was instrumental in bringing my uncle and the rest of those involved to justice.” Alexander could sense her tension.
“The accusations and swift conviction rocked the nation to its core. How did they affect you, personally?” Matthew’s head tilted in that way reporters’ heads often did.
Alexander moved his hand slightly until he could rub the back of her shoulder with his thumb. He hated the questions but knew they would dog her until she answered them.
“You cannot begin to imagine it. My uncle is my sole surviving family member. I was raised at least partially overseas, in nearby Montevaro with a short time in Mevendia, but my formative years were not here. I wish they had been. My uncle did everything in his power to manipulate a young girl who had lost her beloved parents and brother at a young age. He took the opportunity to install his own people throughout most of the palace. When I returned, he hid me away, practically a prisoner in my quarters. He claimed it was due to a threat on my life. My every move was watched. I was led to believe many things that were not true. I know better now, and I pray that does not make the people think less of me, but when you are told one thing from the time you are five years old, it is not easy to change your thinking.”
“What are you doing to ensure there is no further threat to your person or to the country as a whole?”
The queen rested a delicate hand on Alexander’s knee. “Alexander has worked closely with the members of security my uncle could not fire, namely my head of security. They worked tirelessly behind the scenes and continue to seek out any information leading to sleepers involved in the plots but not yet brought to justice.”
The line of question
ing continued for several more minutes before Matthew turned to him. “Alexander, tell us a bit about yourself. Most citizens of Ravenzario have no idea who you are.”
Alexander chuckled. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. I’m just a guy who fell in love with an amazing woman who happens to be a queen.”
“What was life like growing up in the States? You are from the Midwest, correct?”
“Yes. My twin brother and I were born and raised in Serenity Landing, Missouri, a town near Springfield. We spent most of our teen years in Los Angeles, then returned to Serenity Landing at twenty. We both attended Serenity Landing University and have our MBAs. I moved here to run the property on Bianisola, where the queen and I were married the other day. My brother stayed in Missouri to run a family business there.”
“In recent days, your family has been compared to the Kennedys. Do you find that comparison accurate?”
Alexander couldn’t begin to understand the comparison. No one in his family had ever been in politics. Even he wasn’t. “Not really. We don’t live in Camelot, for instance, and aren’t involved in politics. The men in my family are well known for their fidelity to their wives, going back generations, and even prior to marriage. We were raised, as were my father and grandfather, to believe that there was one special woman out there for each of us, and our fidelity began long before we ever met.”
Despite all the opportunities he’d had, Alexander had been a virgin on his wedding night. Something he was not ashamed of in the slightest.
“Why Ravenzario? Why didn’t you stay in Serenity Landing instead of your brother? Or with your brother?”
Alexander shrugged. “I’ve always loved this part of the world. I’ll even admit the presence of the queen was a draw. We’d only met a couple of times before I moved here permanently but I was already smitten.” She looked up, and he gave her a tender grin. “In fact, you could say I’ve been twitterpated for quite some time.”
Chapter 9
Twitterpated? What on earth was he talking about?
After Matthew spent several minutes talking with Alexander, he returned to Christiana, asking a number of questions about legislation and other official business. Then he asked about the response to the wedding.
“I have not seen any of it,” she told him with a shake of her head. “I seldom pay attention to the press. Given life as a celebrity for any reason, you learn to take everything in the media with a grain of salt. Most do a good job of reporting the news fairly, but I would never have time to trawl around online looking for stories about myself. I have no desire to do so. My assistant will let me know when she’s come across something of interest, but I rarely seek them out.”
Matthew pulled out his tablet. “Do you mind if we looked at a few?”
Christiana shook her head. “Of course not, though we do reserve the right to request you not ask certain questions.”
With a nod, he opened the first photo. “This is the two of you immediately following the pronunciation of man and wife. What was going on here?”
Alexander’s voice rumbled through her. “I wanted to kiss my bride, but tradition dictates the first kiss comes on the balcony. Instead, I chose to kiss her forehead, which is apparently acceptable.” She looked up to see his grin offsetting the words. “Gotta say, I’m kind of glad that’s the only time there’s a rule about when I can kiss my wife.”
Matthew chuckled. “Prince Alexander, what do you expect your primary duties will be?”
“For the next two months, I will accompany the queen on her tour of Ravenzario. After that, I may continue to help my parents with the properties until they have someone to take my spot. I plan to spend most of my time assisting the queen in whatever capacity she needs me to.”
“Do you have any charities you’d like to support?”
“I already support a number of charities, both here and abroad.”
“In the States?”
“A few. Some are based in the States, but their focus is elsewhere. Convoy of Hope, for instance, is based near my hometown, but they do great work around the world, particularly in the aftermath of natural disasters. I plan to find some new ones, of course. Those announcements will be made when the time is right.”
He remained so comfortable. Would she ever learn how to do that? She could fake it, but he wore his skin much more comfortably than she did.
“What about a family?” Matthew looked back and forth between the two of them. It took everything in Christiana not to squirm. Queens did not squirm. She learned that lesson well from Queen Alexandra of Montevaro.
Fortunately, her husband answered for both of them. “We both want a family, when the time is right. However, that is something for us to decide together, and we will let the people of Ravenzario know when the time comes.”
“Sooner rather than later?” Matthew pressed.
Christiana decided it was her turn. “Matthew, how would you feel if your mother-in-law asked you those questions, much less someone you do not really know, regardless of the potential news value?”
“Touché, Your Majesty.” He gave a deferential nod. “Now, a question about another family. At the wedding, you were walked down the aisle by a man identified only as Poppo. Other members of the wedding party are identified only by their first names. Can you tell us who they are, and what your relationship is with them?”
“Poppo and David, his grandson who was the ring bearer, came to see us at the palace a few weeks ago as part of a Royal Scout troop.” Christiana felt a real smile cross her face. “Poppo and I had a few minutes to talk, and I realized something. I had long lamented the fact I had no one to walk me down the aisle. The now-former King Jedidiah is the closest thing I have ever had to a real father in many years, but that did not seem right. Then I realized, I do have family. Not necessarily in the traditional sense, but the people of Ravenzario are my family. I asked Poppo if he would walk me down the aisle.” A tear streaked down her cheek. “He told me he remembered my parents’ wedding and that I reminded him of my mother. I have few memories of my parents that are actually mine and not culled from news pieces or magazine pictures.” She wiped away another tear with one, now shorter, manicured nail. “I know there are many, many people who remember my parents far better than I do, and I was honored to have one of them stand in for my father.”
“Will you be seeing Poppo and his family on your tour?”
“I am not certain if we will or not. We plan to keep in touch with them, but the schedule for the tour was set quite some time ago.” Christiana looked up to see Diana walk in and make a “wrap it up” motion with her finger. “I am being told that our time is up, Matthew. Thank you for taking the time to sit down with us.”
He nodded to her. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Then Alexander. “Your Royal Highness.”
They stood, Alexander with his left arm around her as he shook Matthew’s hand. Together, they were projecting a much more united and comfortable front than the reality behind closed doors. The reality was Christiana had seldom seen her husband while on board the yacht. Was he avoiding her? Giving her time to adjust and respecting her space?
Or was there more to it?
Christiana pushed those thoughts out of her head. He had given her no reason to think that. In fact, she had done her research. There had never been any serious allegations of infidelity against any of the men in his family. A moment of small talk, and they moved on. Lunch would be served with students from the local schools joining them.
As they walked around the campus with the high school students, Christiana noted how good Alexander was with the young men. When they reached the gymnasium, her husband played basketball with several of them. He was a good shot.
“He’s cute, Your Majesty.”
Christiana turned to the young woman standing next to her. “He is, is he not?”
“Don’t you ever use contractions?” The blonde girl sat on the bottom of the bleachers.
“Pardon?”
Christiana tilted her head. “I have never thought about it. I spent many of my school years in Montevaro. Their royal family was my closest friends. Queen Mother Alexandra has very strict ideas about what is proper for a member of any royal family. Contractions do not exist in her household. I would imagine I picked up on that.”
“You should loosen up a bit. Be a bit more casual. I think people would like you more.”
Something about the words cut Christiana to the core. “People do not like me?”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t think they dislike you, but like you said. You didn’t grow up here. We all know it was your uncle being manipulative. Now we do anyway, but I remember my parents saying they wished you were here because how would you know how to be queen if you’d never lived here.”
“Sadly, that sentiment does not surprise me. I do hope I can change some of that thinking while I am on this tour.”
“I hope so.” The girl spoke frankly. “I like you. I hope everyone else does, too.” She nodded toward Alexander who held his hands above his head in victory as his shot went cleanly through the hoop. “Plus, you married a really cute guy.”
“I did not marry him because he is cute.” Her husband started toward them with the young men at his side.
The girl flashed a grin. “I’m sure you didn’t, but it is a nice bonus.”
Alexander held out a hand to help her up. Did she imagine the tingle that ran up her arm as his fingers curled around hers? She squeezed his hand.
He really was pretty cute, wasn’t he?
* * *
Alexander followed Queen Christiana up the gangplank back onto the yacht. Overall, it had been a good day. He’d enjoyed his time with his wife. He always did, but seeing her first with the young children and then with the teens, he caught a glimpse of their future. What he hoped their future would be.
Winning the Queen's Heart: Contemporary Christian Romance (The Brides of Belles Montagnes Book 2) Page 6