I say goodbye to everyone and take off.
2
MAX
“Your Highness, over here!”
I veer to the left, rushing into the east side of the vast hangar, toward the voice. Anders quickens his pace, taking care to stay a step behind as always.
As we pass the sumptuous black-and-blue Bugatti Royale Coupé Napoleon, I slow down to give her a loving look. This replica, indistinguishable from the original in the Automobile Museum of Mulhouse, is perfection itself and the jewel of my collection. She cost a tidy sum—even by royal standards—but she’s worth it.
I speed up again, greeting the mechanics. I’m determined not to stop until I get to the car I came here to see. Only three years back before I took on official duties, there was enough time in my days to not only linger in this garage, but to take an active part in restoration work.
But my car-repairing days are over. My life is now filled with high-level negotiations, policy, briefings, diplomatic summits, and gala dinners. Not that I don’t enjoy jetting around the world and hooking up with beautiful, highsociety creatures at after-hours bashes. What sane thirty-two-year-old wouldn’t? It’s just that most of what I do with my days bores me out of my mind.
But I will grin and bear it like a responsible second in line to the throne should… as long as they let me compete in historic car races.
It’s my oxygen, a space of freedom in my orderly life. Ever since Theo almost died and Mother threatened to fall ill and waste away if I didn’t quit the monoplanes, it’s been my only refuge. Given that wasting away is exactly what Father did seven years back—for no good reason, I may add—I had no choice but to cave.
I halt by the Type 55 Super Sport, my newest acquisition. Ettore Bugatti made less than forty of these two-seater stallions that many believe to be the most beautiful sports car ever built. While I wouldn’t go that far, the lines and proportions of this automobile, infinitely elegant in its simplicity, never fail to give me goosebumps.
I look her over before turning to Hans. “You’ve made tremendous progress. She’s light-years from where she was last time.”
The big news on my earlier visit was the completion of the engine. My team had removed it, dismantled it down to the individual parts, fixed them or replaced them with custom-made replicas and put it all back together. They’d done the brakes, too. But the exterior and interior were still a wretched sight.
“We purged the body and the cabin and stripped them of unnecessary finishes,” Hans informs me.
Nodding, I examine the body. “Good. You’ve also done some painting and varnishing.”
“Six coats so far. Six more and it will recover its original luster.”
I pat his shoulder. “Good job, Hans!”
“Thank you, Your Highness!” He points to Paolo who hovers by the bumper. “In the meantime, he’s nursed the hood and radiator back to health.”
Shooting Paolo an appreciative smile, I bend down and inspect the polished wood dashboard and the fine leather. “Excellent.”
He grins, visibly stoked.
“Can’t wait to race this beauty at the Le Mans Classic!” I add.
My phone emits a familiar ringtone. “Theodor,” I say with exaggerated formality, addressing my stern older brother. “How may I help you?”
“Get back to the palace straightaway.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. Yes.” He hesitates. “Just get here ASAP and go straight to the Grand Hall.”
I hang up, a lump forming in my throat. Theo is the most self-controlled person I know. He never panics and never calls anything an emergency unless it’s a life-and-death situation when death is certain if we don’t act at once.
True, Theo didn’t call it an emergency. But for him to sound the way he did, something must be very, very wrong.
As if on cue, Anders darts out to fetch the car. Forcing a smile, I apologize to the disappointed Hans and Paolo. I know how much they were looking forward to showing me every minute detail and achievement of their painstaking repair work. I promise them to come back as soon as I can and stride out into the breezy April afternoon.
Anders holds open the door while I climb into my Aston Martin Valkyrie. I buckle up while he jumps into the driver’s seat, and we peel out to Pombrio.
3
