Not far behind her in the parade, Queen Johanna and Prince Georg had ridden in the back of a classic Mercedes-Benz convertible. According to Anton, the king always rode unaccompanied in the royal carriage, with family following. Although Queen Johanna had expected the honor of the carriage ride in his absence, the king had insisted it be Princess Adelaide. Of course, Adelaide knew this would drive the wedge between her and the queen only that much deeper.
“It’s no wonder she hates me,” Adelaide told Anton as he drove her back to the palace after the parade. “If I weren’t here, she and Georg would have all the fanfare to themselves.”
“True, but what about the people? They seem to really enjoy your presence. And it pleases the king.”
“I know, but I’m still concerned.” She shared the queen’s warning from last night—how Adelaide’s lingering presence might make it harder for the king.
Anton frowned. “Naturally, the queen wants you gone. Any reason is a good reason in her mind. But you can’t let her frighten you away.”
“She doesn’t frighten me. Not really. I mean, I can stand up to her. I just worry that I’m giving my father false hopes that I will remain here ... well, indefinitely.”
Anton’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
“That was never my plan,” she continued. “I tried to make it clear from the start that this is only a visit. Albert encouraged me to come meet my father. I planned to stay through Christmas and then go home and finish my law degree.”
“Right.” His tone sounded flat.
Adelaide suspected her candid reminder had hurt him. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but she could see it in his eyes. She had inflicted pain. Whether he felt his friendship rejected orsomething more, she wasn’t sure. But something had changed between them. Something that hurt inside of her as well.
Yet what did he expect from her? What did any of them honestly expect? That she would suddenly give up her homeland and law career to become a Montovian citizen? That she would play the royal princess, ready to inherit her father’s throne when the time came? What in life had ever prepared her for such an assignment? Even though she’d been beefing up her knowledge of Montovian law and history, she was a foreigner here.
Neither of them spoke for the last several minutes of the ride, but Anton, as usual, insisted on accompanying her inside the palace. Seeing his glum countenance and knowing she had caused it, she quickly thanked him and said goodbye on the ground floor before she dashed up the stairs—all three flights. Then, filled with confusing and conflicting emotions, she rushed to her room, out of breath, locked the door behind her, and suppressed the urge to cry. And why did she even want to cry? The parade had been delightful. She was a guest in a beautiful palace. Her father was waiting for her report of the parade and to see the photos she’d snapped on her phone. This little misunderstanding with Anton was probably fixable. Why was she so upset?
She slipped out of the sable coat and carefully hung it on the padded hanger before collapsing into the armchair. Not feeling up for much more, she stared blankly out the window where thick dark clouds hung over the rolling hills. Was snow coming?
She closed her eyes and leaned back. She wasn’t physically tired but emotionally weary. Was this the challenge of a royal ruler? Torn in different directions, the weight of the country on your shoulders? Hoping to accommodate one person while injuring another? She needed a new adage, like you could please some of the people some of the time... Adelaide sighed. Maybe Queen Johanna was right. Maybe she really should go home.
On Sunday, King Max invited Adelaide to attend church with him. Because of his wheelchair, they went early to get situated in the pew reserved for royalty. It was set off to one side of the majestic cathedral. As Adelaide admired the beautiful stained glass windows and listened to the pipe organ, the church began to fill. After a few minutes, the queen and her son were escorted to the royal pew as well. They took their seats on King Max’s left. Adelaide smiled stiffly at them, and as usual, Georg returned her smile, but no words were exchanged, and the king kept his gaze fixed forward.
Because it was the official beginning of Advent, it was a special service. Even though it was all in German, Adelaide still felt surprisingly moved by the music, candle lighting, and general ceremony. And she didn’t miss the glistening of her father’s eyes as he reached for her hand to clasp it warmly in his. Was this his last Christmas?
By the time the service ended, the king was clearly worn out. Seeing this, Queen Johanna immediately took charge. Ordering Herr Schneider and the king’s other aide, she seized the role of caring wife and domineering queen, effectively shoving Adelaide aside as she helped King Max to be ushered from the church. The king looked too tired to protest as Adelaide was left in the wake of the queen’s melodramatic exit.
Seeing this as her opportunity to walk through the village and do a bit of exploring on her own, Adelaide slipped out of the cathedral almost unnoticed. A few people smiled and waved cheerfully as they recognized her, but dressed in her dark woolen coat, a plain felt hat, and tall boots, she managed to make a smooth getaway.
The village was still quiet, but it was fun to walk freely past the shops, gaze in the windows, and observe all the little details she’d missed before. Like the internet café next to the chocolateshop. Not that she needed to visit there since the palace had its own service, but she’d heard connectivity was patchy within the principality. She paused to look in the toy shop window and admire the Christmas display of merchandise that ranged from old-fashioned handmade wooden playthings to flashier electronic toys.
As she strolled, she noticed lights turning on in some of the shops that were opening up for business. She was just rounding the corner to head up the street that led to the palace when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Anton grinning at her.
Relieved to see his happy face, and hoping he’d forgiven her for her abruptness yesterday, she returned his smile. “Hello there.”
“May I accompany you?”
She nodded vigorously. “Of course.”
“Have you time for coffee?” he asked.
“I’d love a coffee.”
“They should be open now.” He pointed to the coffee shop across the street.
As they crossed, she told him about how she’d spent eight years working in a coffeehouse.
“Really?” He looked surprised. “I can’t imagine you serving coffees up from behind a counter.”
“You forget I was working to put myself through law school.”
His eyes twinkled as he held the door open for her. “A veritable Cinderella.”
