A King In Love

by Barbara Cartland

  He looked away from her as he went on,

  “I know intuitively that they are like doors opening onto new projects and new interests which will help not only me but the people over whom I rule.”

  He suddenly took his hand from Zita’s and put it up to his forehead.

  “I cannot think why I am saying this to you, but it seems to come to my lips without my brain or my will controlling it and yet strangely and inexplicably I know it is true.”

  “You are – frightening me,” Zita said. “How can you really think such things when we have only just met?”

  “Now you are stepping outside our dream, Zita. We have met twice, but I have been looking for you, trying to find you again through hundreds of different lives.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  She put her elbows on the table and cupped her face with her hands.

  “I have tried to puzzle out for myself the doctrine of reincarnation, but I have never had anybody I could talk about it with.”

  The King smiled.

  “It is a very large subject and yet to one who has been to the East it seems entirely understandable as the only real justice.”

  He paused before he continued,

  “But at the moment I am not concerned with reincarnation, either as a faith or as an argument. I am concerned with you and me, Zita, and that is the problem we have to decide – and quickly.”

  “How can we decide anything in such a hurry?”

  “I am leaving Aldross tomorrow,” the King said, “and tonight the Grand Duke has arranged a meeting with his Prime Minister and Members of the Cabinet in which we will discuss our position with regard to Germany.”

  As he spoke, Zita knew that if her father had arranged that meeting he must hope that he would be able to announce that the King in marrying Sophie would unite their two countries and therefore strengthen their resistance to a German Federation.

  Then, almost as if the words came to her lips without her conscious volition, she asked,

  “Are you – intending to – marry the – Princess Sophie?”

  Chapter Five

  There was a tense pause before the King asked,

  “Is that what the people of Aldross are expecting?”

  “Of course they are,” Zita replied.

  “Why?”

  “You know the answer to that. I cannot believe that you, of all people, are not aware of Bismarck’s ambitions and the greed of Prussia.”

  The King raised his eyebrows.

  She realised that he was extremely surprised that she should be aware of the political aspect of his visit.

  He hesitated as if he would be evasive in his reply.

  Then he said,

  “Actually I have decided that tonight, when I meet your Prime Minister and Statesmen, I will put forward a proposition for a closer commercial relationship between our two countries, which would also involve defence.”

  Zita gave a little exclamation of pleasure and the King went on,

  “I cannot think why it should not be extended to other Monarchies and Principalities as well in this part of Europe.”

  Now she gave a cry that seemed to ring out round the small arbour.

  “You mean we should have a Federation too? How clever of you! Why did – nobody else think of that?”

  As she spoke, she thought that her father and the Prime Minister had been extremely obtuse in not putting such an idea into operation before now.

  “It certainly seems to be reasonable, as we have so much in common,” the King said quietly.

  Zita’s eyes were shining as she said again,

  “It is very – very – clever of you to have thought of it! I am sure that those who have been worrying about the grandiose ambitions of Prussia will be very grateful.”

  The King leant back in his chair as if to look at her more easily in another perspective.

  “How can you possibly know so much or be so interested in such issues?” he asked.

  Zita laughed.

  “Now you are being rude! What you are really saying is that a woman should confine her interests to her home, her husband and her children.”

  “As you don’t possess the last two,” the King said, “I should have thought you might be completely preoccupied by your dancing and of course your face.”

  “I still have a brain in my head.”

  “I am aware of that and I am therefore glad that you approve of my plan.”

  “I not only approve of it, but I know that the Grand Duke and those who rule over my country will be delighted.”

  As she spoke, it struck Zita that if this was the King’s way of avoiding an obligation to marry Sophie, her mother would be extremely disappointed.

  What she was thinking must have shown in her eyes, because the King enquired quietly,

  “I think you have found a snag. What is it?”

  Quickly, because she was afraid of the way he could read her thoughts, Zita answered him,

  “I was thinking that in our Federation – and you must find another name for it since I could not bear to copy the Prussians – you must not include or go too near Bulgaria.”

  “Why do you say that?” the King asked sharply.

  “Because a revolution is being planned to liberate the country!”

  The King stared at Zita as if he found her answer incredible.

  “How can you know?”

  Zita could have replied very easily that one of her relatives had told her that underground organisations in Rumania were in touch with revolutionaries in Bulgaria.

  But this was not public knowledge and she therefore said lightly,

  “It is only something I have heard.”

  The King bent forward with his elbows on the table.

  “You are making it even more difficult for me, Zita.”

  “In what way?”

  “You have to tell me how it is that you know what no young woman in the position in which I saw you yesterday could possibly know and how you can sit here talking to me on equal terms.”

  Zita gave a little laugh.

  “If that is true, Your Majesty, I am very – flattered.”

  “Now you are not being natural but are acting a part,” the King said sharply, “and I am determined to know the truth.”

  “I have already begged you to leave things as they are. This is a dream we are dreaming together and, if you step out of it, you will be disillusioned or disappointed and that would be a mistake.”

  “You surprise me, Zita, as you have done since I first saw you standing with the sunshine on your hair. And my instinct tells me that I shall not be disillusioned, however long we know each other.”

  “Your Majesty has already said that you are leaving tomorrow and that does not give you much time in which to lose your illusions.”

  The King looked away from her and she knew that he was considering what he should say.

  Because she thought it was a mistake to hurry him, she picked a greengage out of the basket of fruit and ate it, thinking as she did so that they should return soon to the City.

  It would be a serious mistake if it was discovered in the Palace that they were both unaccountably missing.

  It was unlikely that anybody who learnt that both she and the King had gone riding very early would suppose that they were together, but Zita had found in the past that there were always eyes and ears in the Palace where one least expected them.

  And there were lips too that were only too ready to repeat to her mother anything that was the least out of the ordinary.

  It seemed as if the King suddenly made up his mind and he said,

  “As I have already told you, Zita, I am leaving Aldross tomorrow and I had intended to go next to Bosnia. But I have changed my mind.”

  “It would naturally be the next country to join your anti-Prussian line of defence.”

  “I know,” the King replied, “but Bosnia will have to wait. I intend to go first to a castle I own in the mou
ntains about twenty miles from here.”

  “I know – what you are talking about!” Zita exclaimed. “The Castle of Kovac!”

  “You have heard of it?”

  “I have heard that it is very impressive and was once used by the Kings of Valdastien as an impregnable Fort of Defence against the aggressive warriors of Aldross.”

  The King laughed.

  “I had forgotten that. There are no warring warriors there today, but the views over my country are breathtakingly lovely and something I want you to see.”

  As he finished speaking, he looked deep into Zita’s eyes and, as the full impact of what he had said percolated into her mind, she thought that her heart stopped beating.

  Then, as she stared at him, finding it hard to believe that he was actually inviting her to go there with him, the King put his hand over hers.

  “We could be very happy, Zita, in my Castle in the Clouds,” he said softly. “I have only just realised that when I have been there in the past I have always been alone and that was because it was you who was missing.”

  Zita could feel the vibrations emanating from him and she thought perhaps he could feel hers.

  Then she said and her voice was low and almost incoherent,

  “Is Your Majesty – suggesting something – which I know is not only wrong, but very – very – insulting?”

  The King’s fingers tightened on hers sharply.

  “You know I do not mean it to be that,” he asserted. “But I want you with me, I want to talk to you, to listen to you and above all to make love to you.”

  Now Zita stiffened and she would have taken her hand from his if he had not prevented her from doing so.

  “I think Your Majesty is aware,” she said after a moment, “that such a – suggestion is not only – something to which I could never in any – circumstances agree – but is also very – wrong from your point of view at this – particular moment.”

  The King looked surprised and Zita went on,

  “You came here yesterday and were seen off by your Statesmen on a mission of goodwill, which concerned Valdastien as much as Aldross. Now the least you can do – if you believe your mission has been completed, is to inform them of what has been arranged.”

  She paused and then went on firmly,

  “You should also tell them of your new idea of extending the unification of the countries in this area to Bosnia and Serbia, as well as a number of small Principalities, which you know will be as vitally concerned as we are.”

  As Zita finished speaking, she realised that the King was looking at her as if he could hardly credit what she was saying and, almost before she had said the last word, he remarked sharply,

  “Am I to believe that you are taking me to task for negligence?”

  “No, for indifference,” Zita replied without thinking. “If you are truthful, you will admit that you are putting your own interests – before those of your country and mine.”

  She saw the astonishment in the King’s eyes.

  Then, as if she knew there was nothing more to be said, she rose to her feet.

  “If Your Majesty will pay for our coffee,” she said, “I will collect the horses.”

  She did not wait for his answer, but walked from the arbour and out of the garden in front of the inn to where the horses were peacefully cropping the grass under the trees.

  She whistled and Pegasus lifted his head and came trotting towards her as she expected.

  After a little hesitation the stallion followed.

  Before the King came from the inn, Zita was mounted on Pegasus and was holding his horse by the reins.

  She deliberately had not waited for the King to help her into the saddle because she did not wish him to touch her.

  She recognised that he was astounded at the way she had spoken to him and she suspected that he was also annoyed.

  But she had the uncomfortable feeling that if he was very close to her, she might find it hard not to apologise for what she had said and perhaps by doing so encourage him to say more about their going together to his Castle in the Clouds.

  ‘How dare he suggest such a thing?’ Zita thought to herself.

  But her indignation was false.

  She knew it was her own fault that his attitude towards her was the same as it had been to dozens of other women whom he pursued in Paris or brought, like La Belle, to the Château in Valdastien.

  She told herself despairingly that he had spoilt for her what had been the most exciting and intriguing encounter she had ever imagined in her fantasy world.

  She had wanted to keep it apart forever from the reality of the dull restricted life she led as a Princess.

  Yet her brain forced her to be honest enough to admit that she had invited everything that had happened, first by pretending to be a waitress at The Inn of the Golden Cross and secondly, although it was by chance that she had met the King this morning, while she had not meant to flirt with him, she had certainly behaved in an intimate and provocative manner.

  Her mother would have considered it reprehensible if they had been conversing with each other even in one of the salons in the Palace.

  ‘He assumed that I was under the protection of a man like himself who had given me Pegasus,’ Zita argued to herself, ‘and, although I denied it, I think the idea is still rankling at the back of his mind and he will find it hard to understand that I am not prepared to accept everything he offers on a much larger scale.’

  The door of the inn opened and the King came out and, as he walked down the steps into the garden, she thought that it was difficult to imagine that any man could look more majestic.

  ‘He is every inch a King!’ Zita mused to herself.

  However, it was extremely deflating that one thing was quite obvious – that she did not look Royal and the King did not even think of her as an aristocrat.

  ‘There is no reason why he should,’ she murmured to herself.

  At the same time it was demoralising to know that one had to be labelled to show one’s identity rather than that a man should know instinctively that she was not only pure but also too respectable to accept what he proposed.

  The King joined her, took his horse’s reins in his hand and sprang into the saddle.

  As soon as she released his horse, Zita rode ahead without waiting down the twisting path that led towards the valley.

  The King followed and it was impossible for them to speak until they were clear of the trees and in the meadowland.

  Then, as he rode alongside her, she touched Pegasus with her whip and he immediately set off at a gallop, delighted to stretch his legs and knowing that his head was turned in the direction of home.

  There was nothing the King could do but gallop too and they rode very swiftly until Zita pulled in her reins, knowing that Pegasus had had enough, and the towers and spires of the Capital could be seen in the distance and so could the Palace outside the City.

  It looked impressive and rather beautiful in the sunshine.

  But Zita felt it was a prison waiting for her and, once she had returned to her cell, she would never be able to escape again.

  She drew Pegasus to a standstill.

  “I think, Your Majesty, we must part here and certainly not ride back together.”

  “Are you thinking of your reputation or of mine?” the King asked mockingly.

  “Both!” Zita flashed.

  “I can see that what you are saying is sensible,” he agreed, “but at the same time I have no intention of allowing you to leave me until you say when we can meet again.”

  “There is no point in our doing so.”

  “That is your opinion.”

  As she did not answer, he added,

  “Have I shocked you by what I have suggested?”

  “You know you have!”

  “Forgive me,” he said in a different tone from what she had expected. “I want so desperately to be with you, I want to talk to you and even if you will not allow me to make lo
ve to you, I still want us to be together.”

  “That is something we cannot be,” Zita answered, “and when we now say goodbye, we will not see each other again.”

  “Why,” the King enquired, “should you wish to shut me out without explanation, without telling me why, if in no other way, I cannot meet you as a citizen of this delightful country?”

  “That is a question I am unable to answer,” Zita replied, “and there is no point in trying to do so.”

  She paused before she added,

  “It has been very exciting and very – very – interesting for me to know you, but there is no – future in dreams – and that is why when you leave Aldross tomorrow we shall not – meet again.”

  As she spoke, she was quite certain, without his telling her, that he had no intention of marrying Sophie and that he had thought up the link between Valdastien and other countries as a way of avoiding matrimony with a Princess from Aldross. The King’s eyes were on her face and after a moment he said and she was surprised to hear a note of despair in his voice,

  “What can I say to you? How can I make you understand how much I want to see you, Zita? Now that we have found each other, I cannot lose you.”

  “It is something that has to happen.”

  “But why? Why?”

  She looked at the sun rising over the far-away peaks and replied,

  “I suppose we could stay here all day arguing with each other and in a way it would be exciting. But there are people waiting for you, and people waiting for me, and it would be a great mistake for any of them to be curious as to where we have been.”

  “Very well,” the King said. “I will leave you if you promise you will meet me here tomorrow morning at the same time. I shall not be expected to leave the Palace until ten o’clock, so I shall be here soon after five.”

  “If I come, what shall we talk about?”

  The King laughed.

  “What you are asking in a somewhat indirect manner is whether I shall try to persuade you to leave with me when I say goodbye to the Grand Duke at The Inn of the Golden Cross.”

  Zita did not reply and after a moment he said,

  “If I swear to you to talk of everything else but that, will you come tomorrow morning?”