“It’s true,” Georg replied. “I counted them.”
“One by one?” Adelaide leaned back as the maid set her entrée down.
“Nein.” Georg winked. “By strand and by calculator.”
“It must be spectacular.” Adelaide could see by King Max’s expression that he did not approve of this extravagance. She didn’t either. Not that it was her business.
The king cleared his throat as he reached for his fork. “Since Georg is so occupied with decorating, perhaps Adelaide should meet with Albert in his place.”
“Why should she do that?” the queen asked.
Ignoring his wife, the king turned to Adelaide. “It is an excellent idea. Albert will tutor you on our legal system. Would you like that?”
“I would love it! When I excused myself from my December exams, I assured my supervising professor that my trip here would be educational.”
“And so it shall.” King Max looked highly pleased with his suggestion, but the queen was glowering. Meanwhile, Georg seemed oblivious. He was watching Adelaide so attentively, she suspected he did not view her as a stepsister.
“We will meet in my private quarters tomorrow morning,” the king told Adelaide. “You and Albert and me. We will all work together.”
Queen Johanna slammed her fist down so firmly her wineglass jumped. “You cannot do that, Max. You are ill.”
“I am feeling quite well. Princess Adelaide is good medicine. Even the nurse agreed I looked much better after her visit.”
The queen said nothing, but she was obviously vexed. Once again, Adelaide felt the need to introduce a safer conversationtopic, so she directed a question to Georg. “Where in Switzerland do you ski?”
Georg wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering. “Zermatt is the best.”
“And what makes Zermatt the best?” she asked as if she had a clue to what she was talking about. But a good lawyer knows when to bluff.
“So many things. The people. The slopes. Do you know Zermatt?”
“No. I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“You can see Matterhorn from the resort.”
“Oh, that does sound nice.”
“Do you ski?” Georg asked eagerly.
“No. That’s considered a rich person’s sport where I live.”
King Max cleared his throat. “It is a rich person’s sport here too.”
Adelaide suppressed a weary sigh. It seemed no matter the topic, things always rounded back to these troubled barbs. Clearly, the royal family was not a happy one. She vaguely wondered what it would’ve been like if her grandfather had allowed her birth parents to wed. Perhaps it would’ve been worse.
After dinner, the four of them visited briefly, and at times tersely, in the living room. But King Max was wearing out, and the queen sent a message to Herr Schneider to help him to his suite.
“I will see you in the morning,” he told Adelaide. “Ten o’clock in my chambers.”
“I’ll be there.” She reached for his hand. “Thank you, King Max, for your kind hospitality.”
His smile warmed her. “You are most humbly welcome, but please, can you disperse with King Max and call me Father?”
She pursed her lips, then nodded. “I will try tomorrow.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Thank you, mein lieber. Until tomorrow.”
As he was wheeled away, Adelaide turned to her hostess. “Thank you, too, Queen Johanna, for your hospitality. I hope you will excuse—”
