“I agree.” Adelaide tried not to compare her new assistant to Anton. It wasn’t fair. Instead, she checked the clock. “In fact, I’m due to meet with her in ten minutes.”
“I will see you at the ceremony.” Albert clasped her hand. “Your father would be very proud of you, Princess Adelaide. I believe he will be watching today.” He glanced upward. “And cheering!”
“I hope so.” Adelaide attempted a smile to cover her nerves.Although she’d felt God’s peace in all this, she still had questions and concerns. But she reminded herself,God’s plan in God’s time. She could live only one day—perhaps only one moment—at a time.
Other than a motley handful of protestors outside of the cathedral, the coronation ceremony had started off smoothly. Adelaide peeked out the door of the side room where she and Lina waited. To her relief, there was only a small group in attendance. According to Lina, this was the acceptable expectation for a coronation held on the same day as a royal funeral. It was more respectful.
“It’s almost time.” Lina adjusted the sash of the simple white gown she’d chosen for Adelaide’s coronation. Adelaide had never been so meticulously dressed and vaguely wondered if this was how a bride felt before her wedding day ... Not that she would ever know. What man in his right mind would want to marry a ruling queen? She doubted that many Prince Philips remained in the modern world.
As the prelude to the Montovian national anthem began, Lina prompted Adelaide to make her entrance. Taking in a deep, calming breath, Adelaide stepped out. Waiting for her was the general of the small Montovian army, in full formal dress. It was the general’s duty to protect Adelaide and to usher her to the altar where Prime Minister Albert Kovacs would guide her in repeating her vows to the kingdom. Her first step was to publicly accept Montovian citizenship. Next, she took her vows as the ruler. As she repeated Albert’s words, she reminded herself that her primary purpose as queen was to serve the people, not to be served by them. As the crown was placed on her head, Adelaide wondered if her father really was watching. She hoped he was smiling—or cheering, as Albert had imagined.
That evening, the palace was full. Food and drink flowed freely, and the ballroom floor was opened for dancing. The musicians, selected by Queen Adelaide with Lina’s help, were well suited for respectable dancing—nothing like the music at the Krampus party. For this celebration ceremony, Queen Adelaide wore a pale lavender taffeta gown with a fitted bodice and a full flowing skirt that swooshed when she walked. Again, it had been picked by Lina. Adelaide had opted for the diamond necklace her father had given her. This piece, along with the crown pinned securely on her head, actually did make her feel rather queenly.
Adelaide was greeted by various dignitaries. She danced with some of them, but mostly she sat at the royal table with Lina and Albert flanking her. The two royal councilors and their wives were seated nearby as well. With a few prompts from Lina, Adelaide attempted to make proper conversation but wished this awkward evening would end early.
Meanwhile, Anton and other members of Parliament, along with their wives or dates, were seated at surrounding tables. Many of the couples seemed to be enjoying the festivities. Adelaide had to control herself from glancing at Anton, hoping he might ask for a dance. At least, from what she could see, he didn’t have a date.
After about an hour, Anton actually came her way. Her hopes rose in the anticipation he would invite her to dance, but instead he simply greeted and congratulated her, then turned to Lina and invited her to dance. Adelaide couldn’t deny they made a handsome couple, but she wished she was the one in his arms—and that the crown weighing heavy on her head was only a dream. But it was real. And the pins holding the headpiece in place were starting to itch. But it seemed unqueenly to scratch one’s head in public. Or maybe she was making too much of this. She took in a deep breath and thought about her father. Had he ever felt like this?
For the next week, Queen Adelaide stayed moderately busy. Part of her time was spent being tutored by Albert on all things Montovian and coached by Lina on how to dress and behave at the various social invitations she received on a daily basis. Lina always accompanied her to the social engagements, and Adelaide played her role to the best of her ability. But after a while, she began to suspect she was more of a figurehead than anything else.
The fact she was a woman only seemed to water down her leadership role. She didn’t want to be judgmental, but visiting baby nurseries, women’s church groups, and pie socials didn’t hold great appeal to someone who’d hoped to practice law someday. But hopefully, in time, she would change Montovia’s backward attitude toward women.
Early in her second week, she’d made another uncomfortable observation. It seemed clear that a number of outspoken Montovian citizens severely questioned her authority and ability to rule. To be fair, those were the same concerns she’d originally harbored. She couldn’t deny being an American or her lack of leadership training or her inability to speak German with her compatriots, but she took exception to their insinuation that being female was a critical shortcoming. She was ready to go to the mat for that one!
But her harshest criticism by far, and the hardest thing to ignore, was their accusation that she wasillegitimatelyborn and therefore anillegitimateclaim to the throne. Thankfully only a handful of citizens held that view, and most were likely old friends of Johanna, but the insinuations still stung. She couldn’t deny that her mother had never married King Max. But what did they expect her to do about that now? And why were they rubbing her nose in it?
Albert urged her to put these aggravations behind her, butthanks to an opinionated journalist, it was difficult. Plus, there were some news sources who enjoyed putting her down for being a “frivolous woman.” And, really, she couldn’t blame them for some negative observations. She felt a bit foolish getting all dressed up and attending silly functions she had no interest in—and she was tired of tea and pastries! She’d even pleaded with Albert to let her take on more leadership responsibilities in hopes that she might prove herself as worthy. But he assured her that was to come later. After the holidays.
“The Christmas season is more for socializing than governing,” he explained as they prepared to leave for a tea he’d offered to accompany her to ... after she’d complained it was her fifth tea in as many days. “This slow spell is rather fortuitous, Queen Adelaide.” He helped her into the limousine. “It is your opportunity to build important relationships. The season will pass soon enough. Do not worry. There will be plenty for you to do after the new year.”
As he slid into the back seat, his phone chimed. “The police chief sent a message,” he told her as he read the text. “He wants me to call him immediately.” He held up his phone. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She waved a dismissive hand. It was still odd to have people asking her permission to do ordinary things. Would she ever get used to this? She gazed out the window as they passed through the village, trying not to eavesdrop too much as Albert talked to the chief. He said ja and nein a few times, followed by several excited exclamations that suggested something big was going on. She turned to watch him, knowing if this was police business, it could involve something dangerous.
By now she knew that Johanna and Georg and Steffen, as well as a few others, had exited the country to avoid legal charges. She’d heard they were all relocating to Argentina. She doubted this phone call was related to any of them, but there was such an air of urgency about it, she was eager to hear whathad happened. Finally, Albert hung up and turned to her with a serious look.
“Queen Adelaide, I have news.” His expression was grim.
“Bad news?” she asked.
“It depends.” He took in a deep breath, slowly exhaling as if to organize his words. “Your uncle. He is alive.”
“Prince Farcus?” She sat up straighter. “Tell me everything!”
“It seems that Steffen relocated Prince Farcus when Johanna was taken into custody. That’s the reason we didn’t find him in Vienna. Johanna probably directed this, hoping to get out of the country before it all blew up. Farcus had been kept in a summer vacation home where a caretaker was paid to hold him indefinitely. When payments ceased, your uncle was released. He just contacted the chief this morning.”
“Really?” She felt a rush of hope. “Is he okay?”
“Other than being malnourished and rather unkempt, he is fine.”
“That is wonderful news. Will he return to Montovia?”
“He will arrive at the palace tomorrow. Of course, we will keep this quiet for now.”
“Why quiet?”
“It will need to be handled very carefully.”
