H.R.H.

In both good and bad ways, Christianna had changed forever in Eritrea. She had loved every moment of it, the people she'd met, worked and lived with, the places she had seen. It was all woven into the fiber of her being, and now she felt more like a stranger here than there. In Senafe she had been herself, the best self she had ever been. In Vaduz she had to be the one she had resisted all her life. In fact, she had to give herself up almost completely to be there. She had to surrender to duty and history. And worst of all, in order to be who she was destined to be, she had to give up the man she loved. She couldn't think of a worse fate. It felt like a living death to her every day. She loved her father and her brother, but being back in Vaduz continued to feel like a life sentence in prison to her. She had to force herself to get out of bed every day and do what was expected of her. She did it, by sheer force and selfdiscipline, but she felt as though a piece of her died every day. No one saw it, but she knew it. She was withering inside.

She and Parker wrote to each other by e-mail every day. She called him in Boston a few times once she was back, but he was afraid to call her. Christianna didn't want anyone aware of him, nor for anyone, particularly her father, brother, or security, to see his name on a message lying somewhere. E-mail was the only communication that was safe. And even there she held out no hope for the future to him. There wasn't any. And misleading him now, or harboring hopes herself, would have been too cruel. They had no hope, all they had now were memories of a golden time, and the love they shared.

She loved her exchanges with him, their laughter, even if only on screen. He told her how his work was going, and she told him about her days. Most of the time she just told him what she felt. She was more than ever in love with him, and he with her.

She attended numerous state events with her father, and two dinners in Vienna. And they went to an enormously fancy party in Monte Carlo, given by Prince Albert. It was the Red Cross Ball, which had particular meaning for her, although she had had no real desire to attend the ball. She was back in her traces again, the yoke of duty on her neck, her father's hostess in Vaduz and Vienna, and ever on his arm when they went out.

Freddy was living in Liechtenstein Palace in Vienna, and playing all over Europe. He traveled on yachts with friends, and spent a week in St. Tropez in September. As always, the paparazzi followed him, hoping to get some tidbit or scandal. Lately, he had been better than usual, but the press knew, as Christianna and her father did, that with Freddy it was only a matter of time before he was in the soup again, and being served up on a silver platter by the press. He had visited Victoria in London several times, and she was engaged again, to a rock star this time, in honor of whom she had gotten a huge heart tattooed on her chest, and dyed her hair green. Freddy loved hanging out with her. She moved in a racy crowd that suited him. And once in a while, when he had nothing else to do, he came home for a visit to Vaduz.

It unnerved him to see how mature Christianna had become, how determined her efforts to please their father. She visited the sick in hospitals and orphanages constantly, went to see old people in convalescent centers, spoke at libraries, and posed constantly for photographs. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to do, without a single word of complaint, but when he looked into her eyes on one of his visits home, what he saw there made his heart ache. Even Freddy could see the price she was paying for the life she led.

“You need to have more fun,” he told her one morning over breakfast, on a gloriously sunny day in Vaduz toward the end of September. “You're getting old before your time, my love.” She had turned twenty-four that summer, and he was about to turn thirty-four, with no sign whatsoever of his settling down or growing up.

“What do you suggest?” Christianna asked him practically.

“Why don't you go to the South of France for a couple of weeks? The sailboat races are next week. Victoria rented a house in Ramatuelle, and you know how much fun her house parties are.” It was all he could think of to suggest. And there was no question, it would have been fun. But then after that, what? Back to Vaduz again, and the weight of painful duties forevermore. Christianna was depressed about it from the moment she came home, and Freddy's well-meant but superficial suggestions didn't help. In fact, there was no real solution to the problem, except resignation and surrender. And to add fuel to the fire of her despair and loneliness, she had been obliged to give up love, of her own accord.

“I feel as though I ought to be here to help Papa. I've been away for so long.” And he enjoyed her company so much. He said it every day.