H.R.H.

The only time in Christianna's life when she had not been affected by their royal status on a daily basis was when she was away at college in California, where she lived in an apartment in Berkeley with a male and female bodyguard. She only confessed the truth to her two closest friends, who kept her secret religiously, as did the administration of the university, who were aware of it as well. Most of the people she had known there had had no idea who she was, and she loved it that way. She had blossomed in the rare anonymity, freed from the restrictions and obligations she had found so oppressive since her youth. In California, she was “almost” just another college girl. Almost. With two bodyguards, and a father who was a reigning prince. She was always vague when people asked her what kind of work her father did. Eventually, she learned to say he was in human rights, or public relations, sometimes politics, which were all essentially correct. She never used her own title while there. Few people she met seemed to know where Liechtenstein was anyway, or that it had its own language. She never told people that her family home was a royal palace in Vaduz, which had been built in the fourteenth century, and rebuilt in the sixteenth. Christianna had loved the independence and anonymity of her college years. Now everything had changed. In Vaduz, she was the Serene Highness again, and had to endure all that went with it. To her, being a princess felt like a curse.

“Would you like to join me at the meeting with our ambassador to the UN today?” her father offered, to try and cheer her up. She sighed and shook her head, as he stood up from the dining table, and she followed suit.

“I can't. I have to cut a ribbon at a hospital. I have no idea why we have so many hospitals.” She smiled ruefully. “I feel as though I cut one of those ribbons every day.” It was an exaggeration of course, but sometimes she felt that way.

“I'm sure it means a lot to them to have you there,” he said, and she knew it did. She just wished that there was something more useful for her to do, working with people, helping them, making their lives better in a concrete way, rather than wearing a pretty hat, a Chanel suit, and her late mother's jewels, or others from the official state vaults. Her mother's crown from her father's coronation was still there. Her father always said that Christianna would wear it on her wedding day. And she herself had been startled to discover how agonizingly heavy it was, when she tried it on, just like the responsibilities that went with it. “Would you like to join me at a dinner for the ambassador tonight?” Prince Hans Josef offered as he gathered up his papers. He didn't want to rush her, in her obvious misery, but he was late by then.

“Do you need me there?” Christianna asked politely, always respectful of him. She would have gone without complaint if he said yes.

“Not really. Only if you'd enjoy it. He's an interesting man.”

“I'm sure he is, Papa, but if you don't need me, I'd rather stay in jeans and go upstairs to read.”

“Or play on your computer,” he teased. She loved e-mailing her friends in the States, and still communicated with them often, although she knew that, inevitably, eventually the friendships would fade. Her life was just too different from theirs. She was a thoroughly modern princess, and a spirited young woman, and sometimes she felt the weight of who she was and what was expected of her like a ball and chain. She knew Freddy did as well. He had been something of a playboy for the past fifteen years, often in the tabloids, allied with actresses and models all over Europe, and the occasional young royal. It was why he was currently in Asia, to get away from being constantly in the public eye and in the press. His father had encouraged him to take a break for a while. The time was approaching for him to settle down. The prince expected less of his daughter, since she was not going to inherit the throne. But he also knew how bored she was, which was why he wanted her to go to the Sorbonne in Paris. Even he knew that she needed more to do than cutting ribbons to open hospitals. Liechtenstein was a small country, and its capital, Vaduz, a tiny town. He had recently suggested that she go to London to visit her cousins and friends. Now that she had finished school and was not yet married, there was too little to occupy her time.

“I'll see you before dinner,” her father said as he kissed the top of her head. Her hair was still damp, and she looked up at him with her enormous blue eyes. The sadness in them tore at his heart.

“Papa, I want something else to do. Why can't I go away like Freddy?” She sounded plaintive, like any girl her age who wanted a big concession from her father, or permission to do something of which he was unlikely to approve.