H.R.H.

“I will. I'll call you, Papa. I promise. Take good care of yourself, too.” It was harder leaving him than she thought it would be, as a sob caught in her throat. She knew how much he needed her, and she hated leaving him alone. She knew how lonely it would be for him. But just this once, this one last time, before she took on her royal duties forever, she needed her own life.

“I love you, Cricky,” he said softly. And with that, he turned to the two bodyguards standing next to her, with a stern look. “Stay close to her at all times.” There was no mistaking his orders. They were the same two young men who had accompanied her to Russia, Samuel and Max. They were as excited as she was about their new adventure, and she was comfortable and resigned about having them with her. Her father had been intransigent about that. It was the one condition on which he would not relent, so Christianna did at last. She felt slightly foolish having two bodyguards with her, but the director of the Red Cross camp had said he perfectly understood the need for it. He was extremely sensitive to her situation, and had assured her by e-mail that he would not divulge who she was. He was the only one who would be aware that her passport bore no last name, which might have given her away to those who were aware of such things, though they were usually rare. Marque had been singularly aware of that, as she had worked with royals before. Others weren't. But Christianna was taking no chances. The one thing she didn't want anyone to know was that she was a princess. She wanted to be treated the same as everyone there. She didn't want anyone calling her Your Serene Highness or ma'am, and surely not her bodyguards, who were masquerading as fellow volunteers, friends who were coming with her. Christianna had thought of everything and covered all her bases. And thus far, the director of the facility had been totally cooperative with her to that end.

“I love you, Papa,” she said as she got into the car, and her father closed the door. He had wanted to come to the airport with her, but had to meet with all his ministers that morning, about the economic policies he and Christianna had discussed the night before. So he was saying goodbye to her at the palace.

“I love you too, Cricky. Don't forget that. Take good care of yourself. Be careful,” he warned again, and she smiled, and leaned out the window to kiss his hand. The bond they had formed in the years since her mother's death was unseverable, and unusually close.

“Goodbye!” she called out and waved as they drove away. He stood and waved until the car went through the gates, turned, and disappeared, and then with his head bowed, he walked slowly back into the palace. He had done this for her, allowed her to go to Africa, to make her happy. But for him, it was going to be a miserable six months or year without her. And as he walked into the palace, the dog walked sadly behind him. Without Christianna's lively presence, they both already looked like a sad, lonely pair.

Chapter 7

Christianna's flight from Zurich took off promptly for Frankfurt that morning. Her bodyguards were in business class, and she was in first. And although she had warned them not to, the palace had discreetly let the airline know that she was on the flight. It was exactly what she didn't want, and it annoyed her. All she could do was console herself with the knowledge that she would not be “special” for the next year. She didn't want to be. This time away in Africa, working for the Red Cross, was her last opportunity to be an ordinary person, with none of the burdens that automatically came with her station in life. For the next months, she wanted none of the privileges of being royal. None at all. She wanted her experience there to be exactly the same as it was for everyone else, for better or worse.

When she changed flights in Frankfurt, she was grateful that no one appeared to know who she was. There was no one to meet or greet her, no one to help her transfer planes, no special attention. She picked up her backpack and handbag, while the two bodyguards managed their luggage and hers. They chatted amiably for a few minutes between flights, and tried to imagine what it was going to be like. Sam thought it was going to be rugged. He had been to Africa before. The director in Geneva had assured her it would be comfortable, and Christianna had insisted, and meant it, that she didn't care. She was more than willing to rough it with everyone else, if that was the case. He had promised her anonymity, and she was counting on that. Otherwise, it would spoil everything for her. In her mind, this was her last chance at real life, before she dedicated herself to the heavy weight and restrictions of her royal duties forevermore.