H.R.H.

It was only after their guests had left the palace that he asked her if she could spare a few minutes of her time, and she knew what was coming. It had to be. She couldn't appear on the front page of a London newspaper, with a man he'd never heard of, caught during a romantic tryst, and have him choose to ignore it. That would be too much to ask.

She followed him to his private sitting room and waited till he sat down, and then she did the same. He glanced at her for a long moment with a look of displeasure mixed with grief. For an interminable amount of time, he said absolutely nothing and neither did Christianna. She wasn't going to bring the subject up, in case by some miracle she got a reprieve and this was about something else, but of course it wasn't. He finally began.

“Christianna, I suppose you know what I want to talk to you about.” She tried to look expectant, innocent, and blank, but failed abysmally. She could feel guilt creep all over her face, and finally she nodded.

“I think I do,” she said in barely more than a whisper. Her father was always kind to her, but he was nonetheless the reigning prince and could have a daunting way about him, when he chose to. And after all, he was her father, and she hated to incur his wrath, or even his displeasure.

“I assume you saw the photograph in the Daily Mirror this morning. I'll admit the photograph is lovely of you, but I was somewhat curious about the identity of the gentleman beside you. I didn't recognize him.” So clearly he was not a royal, since her father knew them all. He somehow implied, without ever saying it, that it must have been a tennis teacher or something of the kind. “And you know, I'm not terribly fond of reading about my children in the press. We get an opportunity to do quite a lot of that with your brother. I don't usually recognize any of his friends either.” It was a slam at Parker, suggesting that he was the male equivalent of the kind of lowlife Freddy went out with, which was not the case. Parker was educated and decent, a doctor, and from a nice family. All the women Freddy went out with were actresses, models, or worse.

“It's not at all like that, Papa,” Christianna said, trying to sound calm, but feeling panicked. They were not off to a great start. She knew her father, and he was not at all pleased. “He's a lovely man.”

“I hope so, if their report is accurate and you spent the weekend at the Ritz with him. May I remind you that you told me you were going there just to go shopping?” His eyes were filled with reproach and displeasure.

“I'm sorry, Papa. I'm sorry I lied to you.” She figured that abject apology was the only way to go, and she was ready to grovel if he would allow her to see Parker. “It was wrong of me, I know.”

He smiled gently at that. “You must really love this man, Cricky, if you're willing to eat that much crow.” And it hadn't escaped him either that they looked ecstatic together, which was why he was so worried. “All right, let's get this over with. Who is he?”

She paused for breath for a long time. She was terrified she wouldn't do it right. And their whole future rested on whether or not she did. It was an awesome burden.

“We worked together in Senafe, Papa. He's a doctor, doing AIDS research at Harvard. He was with Doctors Without Borders, and then continued his research with us at the camp. Now he's back at Harvard. He's Catholic, from a solid family, and he's never been married.” It was all she could think of to say at one gulp, but the data she offered her father was respectable at least, and painted a decent portrait of Parker.

The nature of the information she gave him was all he needed to know, particularly the fact that he was Catholic and had never been married. His heart sank. “And you're in love with him?” This time she didn't hesitate. She nodded. “Is he American?” She nodded again. It answered his most important question. He was an American commoner, and not suited to a princess, the daughter of a reigning prince, for anything other than as an acquaintance.

“Papa, he's a really lovely man. He comes from a good family. Both his father and brother are doctors. They come from San Francisco.” He didn't care if they came from the moon by rocket ship. He had no title. It was an entirely unsuitable match for her, in his opinion. And he knew the Family Court and members of Parliament would agree with him, although he could have overruled them, if he wished. And Christianna knew that, too. She also knew that he would never use his powers to allow her to marry a commoner. It went against everything he believed.

“You know you can't do that,” he told her gently. “You'll only make yourself, and him, miserable if you continue to see him. You'll wind up with a broken heart, and so will he. He's a commoner, Christianna. He has no title. He's not even European. It's out of the question, if you're asking me what I think you are.” His face was rigid, and she was already in tears.