“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. “You are a 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 regard me as 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.”
“I’ll have to pay that shop a visit while I’m here.”
“Yes, you should enjoy seeing the whole village.” Anton set the bonbon box on the seat between them. “Shops are just starting to prepare for Christmas. By the weekend, the whole village will be lit up and sparkling. All of Montovia celebrates the season with great enthusiasm, but Horvath puts on the best show. It goes throughout December and ends on New Year’s.”
She sighed. “I can hardly believe it’s almost December.” She tried not to think of the exams she’d rescheduled for January as she peered out the window at the countryside. They’d been driving through gorgeous rolling hills and past blue mountain lakes, but now it seemed they were headed into more rugged terrain. “It’s so beautiful here. Are those mountains the Alps?”
Anton leaned toward Adelaide to look through her window. “That is a matter of opinion. Our mountains connect to the Alps, but some mountain snobs refuse to call them the Alps. Montovians will tell you that our country is actually nestled in the foot of the Alps at an elevation just over 1,200 meters.”
“Does that mean snow for Christmas?” she asked eagerly.
“You can usually count on it.” Anton leaned back in the seat, gazing her way with a sideways glance. “You resemble your father, Adelaide.”
“Really?” She turned to face him. “Some think I look like my mother. Although she was fairer.”
“Your green eyes are strikingly similar to your father’s, and the king’s hair used to be a rich warm brown like yours, but it’s grown quite gray these past few years.” His expression grew somber. “He has aged beyond his years.”
“Because of the illness?”
He frowned. “That is one theory.”
“Meaning there is another?”
“Perhaps.” His tone sounded a bit crisp, as if he regretted his words.
Cradling the white porcelain coffee cup in her hand, she let the warmth seep into her fingers before she decided to press her host a bit more. “I’ve read everything I could find about Montovia in the last few days. Sort of like doing my homework.” She smiled. “But there’s not a lot of information online. I’d love to hear more. Especially about my, uh, the king.” She couldn’t bring herself to call Maximillian V her father. Of course, she would have difficulty calling anyone “Father,” not to mention a complete stranger.
“Right.” Anton nodded sagely. “I should probably fill you in on the recent family history. The king was a bachelor for quite some time. Of course, it was expected he would marry. According to my uncle, his parents urged him to wed many a time, but King Maximillian was stubborn. Uncle Albert believes it’s because of his love for your mother, that he never got over her. My uncle got to meet your mother when she visited our country all those years ago. Albert says she was a beauty, but not only that. He believes she was a genuinely good and kind person.”
“I agree with him. As a nurse my mother was always very kind to all her patients . . . to everyone, really.” Perhaps too kind to some people . . . like Terrance. But she didn’t care to mention that.
“Your mother was a nurse?”
“Yes. Until she died.”
“I’ve been doing my homework too. I read of your mother’s tragic accident. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’ll be three years tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Really?”
She sighed.
For a moment, Anton was quiet.
“I can’t explain it,” Adelaide said, “but somehow I think Mom would approve of me coming here. She never spoke of my, uh, my father. I think the story was buried deep within her. In fact, she never married.”