Your Highness, splendid.” The chancellor beamed now in full ceremonial regalia. He had found a minute to change to give the occasion its due before they left the palace.
That much velvet could not be good for a body.
Being an army major, Miklos was spared the frills and allowed to wear his military dress uniform to the momentous occasion, which he’d donned at his rooms at the military base before coming up to the palace.
“She’s an excellent choice, Your Highness,” the chancellor said for the hundredth time, probably sensing the prince’s hesitancy and working hard to dispel all last-second doubts.
He was downright cheerful, as if their conversation at the palace a short while ago had never happened. His smile fitted the occasion. He always fitted the occasion. Rose to it, by God, come hell or high water, and age hadn’t slowed him any. He had served, in one position or another, since the queen had been crowned at the age of twenty-nine, forty years ago, the year Miklos had been born. The chancellor had been a constant part of the six princes’ lives as much as their parents, had always been loyal, always on their side against the media, critics, political slandering, whatever.
Which was why his excitement over the arrival of Lady Judit Marezzi felt a lot like betrayal.
“Her background is spotless. A very sensible woman. As soon as she is tried and tested in situ, and you’ve had a little time to spend with her, the official announcement can be made. If all goes as expected.”
Did that mean it wasn’t a done deal? Miklos perked up a little.
“I already have the press releases ready to go.”
Resignation defeated hope.
Close to forty, he was used to freedom. And he had more than enough responsibility on his hands; he didn’t need the addition of a wife and all the drama that went with it.
His parents, the king and queen of Valtria, had presented a picture-perfect marriage on ceremonial occasions, but life had been far from heavenly at the royal palace. Theirs, too, had been an arranged marriage—for the sake of alliances—that would have been perhaps better off left unarranged. The princes’ childhood had plenty of rough spots because of that.
He watched the press, cameras lined up in the distance. The time and place of the arrival had been leaked to a few favored sources in an attempt to control coverage while not appearing as if they were completely shutting the public out. But given the riots in the south, he’d hoped the paparazzi would have better things to do today. The political climate of the country was at the moment somewhat chaotic.
“Odd that she should choose to show up now to claim her due. At the worst possible time,” he said, hoping that the chancellor would have some insight about why she’d suddenly decided to come.
The man watched him for a moment. “I suppose there never is a right time to lose one’s freedom,” he responded simply, warm sympathy in his gaze.
Which was one of the many reasons all the princes loved him. He understood what went on inside a man just as well as he understood what went on inside the palace.
“I expect that things such as this are different for the young ladies,” the old man observed gently.
And Miklos felt a sudden shot of guilt for not having considered that she’d probably been planning this day and her wedding for a decade. If not two. Girls were like that.
“Maybe her arrival will save us. If the union goes well, if the people get behind this marriage, it might have the power to stop civil war yet.”
Miklos considered the truth in the chancellor’s words as he returned his gaze to the Valtrian Airline Boeing Airbus. The stairs were at the door and the red carpet rolled out. The ceremonial army guard stood to line her path to the limousine, keeping the paparazzi back. General Rossi had insisted on the guards to honor the occasion.
Like the chancellor, General Rossi had always been a major source of support for the royal family. He was the reason Miklos had entered the army. Rossi had been his mentor for longer than he could remember.
Miklos scanned the plane. “Tell me again why she refused the royal carrier?”
“She isn’t officially a princess and a royal person yet, Your Highness. Maybe she’s eager to enjoy the last few weeks of her civilian life. It might be better this way. People might appreciate seeing her for the first time as an average person. She could become the people’s princess and all that.”
Or not. England had had one of those. Everyone knew how tragically that had worked out.
“This better not be an indication that she’s going to buck protocol every chance she gets,” he said tightlipped, so that the cameras recording him from afar wouldn’t catch his words. “God knows what sort of liberal upbringing she received in America.”
She was twenty-nine, an age that suddenly seemed too young for him to comprehend. What could she possibly know about life? At least she would know all about Valtria and its royal customs and heritage. Her people would have seen to that. She would know what was expected of her. But would she do it?
Why wouldn’t she? He pressed down on an unexpected wave of unease. If she weren’t prepared to do her duty, she wouldn’t have come here.
Some movement showed at last at the plane’s door. The military band struck up Valtria’s national anthem. Two little girls dressed in white formal dresses appeared out of nowhere with a spectacular bouquet of Valtria’s signature purple roses, their national flower. Judging by the chancellor’s pleased expression, he had arranged that.
Miklos stood ramrod straight, not a twitch betraying his impatience. He wanted to be done with his official duties of meet and greet and get back to investigating just who’d been down in the tunnels with him earlier. He didn’t have to worry about Lady Judit feeling neglected. Her weeks were booked touring the palace and country with a receiving committee, meeting everyone who counted, interspersed with only brief visits from him. They would have enough time to get to know each other once they were married.
The airplane’s door opened, a flight attendant appearing first as she pushed the door to the side with a nervous smile on her face.
Followed by Lady Judit Marezzi—his future princess.
The first thing he noticed was that she was not, in fact, a girl. She was a stunning woman, a thousand times more beautiful than the snapshots in the chancellor’s reports. Waves of auburn hair reached to the middle of her back, glinting bronze in the sun. She was lithe, her movements graceful, her simple ivory dress accentuating her feminine figure.
His suppressed reluctance eased a notch.
Then he noticed the shock, surprise and confusion on her face as she looked at the receiving line. There was no greeting smile, no little wave, no pose at the top of the stairs for the cameras as was customary on state arrivals. In fact, she clutched her oversize handbag as if she were ready to bolt. Almost as if…
As if she hadn’t expected him to be there at all. Almost as if all this was a surprise to her.
WHEN IN ROME, DO AS the Romans do. Judi looked down the stairs, took a deep breath and moved forward, aware that a planeful of weary travelers waited to deboard behind her. Maybe Valtria always went all out for arriving tourists. She only wished,
