“Yes. German is our national language, but Montovian children start to learn English in primary school. It’s because Queen Anna Konig was British. That was nearly a century ago, but her insistence that English be required in the curriculum remained, even ahead of French and Hungarian.”
“Well, I commend you, Herr Balazs. Your English is excellent.”
“It helped that my mother was British, plus I attended Cambridge.” His dark brown eyes twinkled. “But please, dispose ofherr. Just call me Anton.”
“Then you must call me Adelaide.”
“And I hope you forgive Albert—I mean, Herr Kovacs for not coming this morning. I call him Albert because he is my uncle. He was very concerned for the king’s health and insisted on remaining behind.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the king is unwell. I’m sorry.”
“My uncle is with him now.”
“Then we should probably hurry.” She reached for her roller suitcase handle.
“Let me get that. Have you checked luggage?”
“No.” She let him take the case while looping the strap of her oversized bag over one shoulder.
“You travel light.”
She shrugged. “This trip was such short notice, I didn’t have time to think about it.” Or more truthfully, her closet had always been sparse. And, although she’d bought a few new things to bring along, she would never be mistaken for a clotheshorse.
“The car is that way.” Anton nodded toward the exit. “It’s a three-hour drive to Horvath, but we decided a car would be faster than waiting for a train.”
“Horvath? The capital of Montovia?”
“Yes. The palace has been there for ages, probably since the fourteenth century. It was most likely Hungarian then, although historians never seem to agree.” He continued educating her about his home country as they walked. “Horvath has been home to the Montovian royal family for more than three hundred years.” He paused at the sliding doors for her to exit ahead of him, waiting like a gentleman.
“And Montovia is comprised of three provinces, not including the capital?” she asked as they stood on the sidewalk.
“You’ve been reading up on us.” He waved toward the row of waiting cars.
“I like knowledge.” She felt her eyes grow wide as a black limousine pulled up and a uniformed man hopped out to take her bags. Anton opened her door, then waited as she got in. She felt like pinching herself as she slid onto the luxurious leather seat. So Hollywood! As Anton got in on the other side, she glanced through the tinted windows, wondering whether anyone was watching. Sure enough, a few bystanders pointed in their direction with curious expressions.
“Are you hungry?” Anton asked as the limo pulled back into the airport traffic.
“Hungry?” She was starving but didn’t want to delay their travels with a stop for food. “I thought we were in a hurry.”
“You’re right. But my mother had something prepared for us, just in case.” He slid a handsome picnic basket between them, then opened it to display pretty porcelain dishes, cloth napkins, and gleaming silverware fastened to the lid. A few food items were neatly tucked below, but Anton reached in and removed a silver thermos. “Coffee?”
“I’d love some.”
Before long they were dining on delicious pastries, hard-boiled eggs, fresh fruit, and creamy cheese. It couldn’t have been a more welcome feast. “I feel like a princess,” she said as he refilled her coffee cup and added cream.
He chuckled. “Youarea princess.”
Her face grew warm. “Oh, but not really. I mean, I realize it appears the king is my father based on some DNA tests, but my mother was never married to him. I hardly think anyone would regardmeas a princess.”
“That’s where you might be wrong.” He opened a small foil-covered box. “Bonbon?”
“Seriously?” Each delicate chocolate had a different Christmas symbol on top—tiny candy canes, holly swags, bells. “These are so Christmassy. They’re too pretty to eat.”
“You don’t want to try one?” He waved the box temptingly.
“I’d love to.” She took an evergreen tree bonbon and bit into it. “Delicious!”
“These are my mother’s favorites. From a chocolatier in Horvath.”
