“Christianna, I suppose you know what I want to talk to you about.” She tried to look expectant, innocent, and blank, but failed abysmally. She could feel guilt creep all over her face, and finally she nodded.
“I think I do,” she said in barely more than a whisper. Her father was always kind to her, but he was nonetheless the reigning prince and could have a daunting way about him, when he chose to. And after all, he was her father, and she hated to incur his wrath, or even his displeasure.
“I assume you saw the photograph in the Daily Mirror this morning. I'll admit the photograph is lovely of you, but I was somewhat curious about the identity of the gentleman beside you. I didn't recognize him.” So clearly he was not a royal, since her father knew them all. He somehow implied, without ever saying it, that it must have been a tennis teacher or something of the kind. “And you know, I'm not terribly fond of reading about my children in the press. We get an opportunity to do quite a lot of that with your brother. I don't usually recognize any of his friends either.” It was a slam at Parker, suggesting that he was the male equivalent of the kind of lowlife Freddy went out with, which was not the case. Parker was educated and decent, a doctor, and from a nice family. All the women Freddy went out with were actresses, models, or worse.
“It's not at all like that, Papa,” Christianna said, trying to sound calm, but feeling panicked. They were not off to a great start. She knew her father, and he was not at all pleased. “He's a lovely man.”
“I hope so, if their report is accurate and you spent the weekend at the Ritz with him. May I remind you that you told me you were going there just to go shopping?” His eyes were filled with reproach and displeasure.
“I'm sorry, Papa. I'm sorry I lied to you.” She figured that abject apology was the only way to go, and she was ready to grovel if he would allow her to see Parker. “It was wrong of me, I know.”
He smiled gently at that. “You must really love this man, Cricky, if you're willing to eat that much crow.” And it hadn't escaped him either that they looked ecstatic together, which was why he was so worried. “All right, let's get this over with. Who is he?”
She paused for breath for a long time. She was terrified she wouldn't do it right. And their whole future rested on whether or not she did. It was an awesome burden.
“We worked together in Senafe, Papa. He's a doctor, doing AIDS research at Harvard. He was with Doctors Without Borders, and then continued his research with us at the camp. Now he's back at Harvard. He's Catholic, from a solid family, and he's never been married.” It was all she could think of to say at one gulp, but the data she offered her father was respectable at least, and painted a decent portrait of Parker.
The nature of the information she gave him was all he needed to know, particularly the fact that he was Catholic and had never been married. His heart sank. “And you're in love with him?” This time she didn't hesitate. She nodded. “Is he American?” She nodded again. It answered his most important question. He was an American commoner, and not suited to a princess, the daughter of a reigning prince, for anything other than as an acquaintance.
“Papa, he's a really lovely man. He comes from a good family. Both his father and brother are doctors. They come from San Francisco.” He didn't care if they came from the moon by rocket ship. He had no title. It was an entirely unsuitable match for her, in his opinion. And he knew the Family Court and members of Parliament would agree with him, although he could have overruled them, if he wished. And Christianna knew that, too. She also knew that he would never use his powers to allow her to marry a commoner. It went against everything he believed.
“You know you can't do that,” he told her gently. “You'll only make yourself, and him, miserable if you continue to see him. You'll wind up with a broken heart, and so will he. He's a commoner, Christianna. He has no title. He's not even European. It's out of the question, if you're asking me what I think you are.” His face was rigid, and she was already in tears.
“Then let me just see him. I won't marry him. We could meet from time to time. I promise I'll be discreet.”
“I assume you were discreet this weekend, in Paris, unless you're even more foolish than you've been, and I don't think you are. And the press still discovered you, and look at what it looks like. A Serene Highness having assignations with men in hotel rooms. That's not very pretty.”
“Papa, I love him,” she said with tears running down her cheeks.
“I'm sure you do, Cricky,” he said gently. “I know you well enough, I think, to believe you wouldn't do this lightly. Which makes this even more dangerous for you. You cannot marry him, ever, so why would you carry on a romance that will only break your heart and his? It isn't even fair to him. He deserves to be in love with someone he can marry. And you're not that person. One day, when you marry, it will have to be a person of royal birth. It's in our constitution. And the Family Court would never in a hundred years approve him.”
“They would if you told them to. You can overrule them.” They both knew he could. “Other princes and princesses all over Europe marry commoners these days. Even crown princes. It happens everywhere, Papa. We're a dying breed, and if we find the right person, even if not of royal birth, wouldn't you rather have me marry a good man, who loves me and will be kind to me, than a bad one who happens to be a prince? Look at Freddy,” she threw at him, and he winced. “Would you want me to marry a man like him?” Her father shook his head. That was a whole other subject, but she was using everything she could, knowing full well how much Freddy upset him.
“Your brother is a special case. And of course I want you to marry a good man. But not all princes are derelicts like Friedrich. He may grow up one day, but I'll confess, if you came home with a man with his habits, I would lock you up in a convent. And Christianna, I'm not going to do that here. I'm sure this young man is honorable and everything you say. But he is not eligible for your hand, and he will never be. I don't want you seen in public with him again. And if you do love him, I strongly advise you to end it with him before it gets worse. Both of you will only get hurt. As long as I'm alive, it will go nowhere. If you're lonely and unhappy here, we'll start looking around for a husband for you, a suitable one. But Christianna, this one isn't. You may not see him again.” For the first time in her entire life, she actually hated her father. She was sobbing when she answered him, and she had never seen him so cruel. As kind as he had been to her all her life, he was now denying her the only thing she really wanted, a life with the man she loved, and his approval. And he had refused.
“Papa, please … this isn't the fourteenth century. Can't you be more modern about this? Everyone talks about what a creative, modern ruler you are. Why can't you let me be with a commoner, even marry him someday? I don't care if my children have titles, or are commoners. I'll even give up mine if you wish. I'm not in line for the succession. I could never reign here, even if Freddy didn't. So why does it matter who I marry? I don't care if I'm a princess, Papa, or marry a prince,” she said, engulfed in sobs, as he looked at her miserably.
“But I do. We cannot ignore our own traditions, or our constitution, whenever it's convenient. That's what duty and honor are about. You must do your duty, even when it hurts, even when it means you must make sacrifices. That's why we're here, to lead the people and protect them and show them by our example what we expect of them, and what's the right thing to do.” He was a purist and an idealist, for her and himself, bound by history and tradition. He made no exceptions to the rules, even for himself.