On their second day in Venice, they wandered in and out of shops under the arcade. They were mostly jewelers and a few antique shops. They finally walked into one tiny little shop in the corner under the arcade. They had some crosses Christianna wanted to look at, and they walked in, hand in hand. The shopkeeper was ancient, and Christianna spoke to him in Italian about the crosses while Parker poked around, and then noticed something in a display case that caught his eye. It was a narrow gold band with tiny emerald hearts embedded in it. It was obviously antique and well worn, but the color of the stones was pretty, and he pointed it out to Christianna and told her to ask the man how much. He quoted an absurdly low price, and when they both looked startled by how cheap it was for something so pretty, he apologized and reduced the price further. Parker gestured for him to take it out of the case so Christianna could try it on, and she was touched. He slipped it onto her finger and it fit perfectly, as though it had been made for her or belonged to her in another lifetime. The tiny bright green emeralds came alive on her delicate hand. Parker beamed at her, and paid the man as she looked at him in amazement, and then at the lovely band she was wearing.

“I don't know what you call it when you ask a princess to marry you, particularly when you're about to be beheaded by her father.”

“A guillotine ring, I think,” she said, smiling, and he laughed out loud.

“Exactly. That's our guillotine ring, Your Highness,” he said with a very creditable bow, as though he had done it a thousand times. “One day I'll replace it with a better one, if they'll ever let me. But in the meantime, that's so you know I love you, and I mean it. And if we go to the guillotine together, or I go by myself, at least you'll have something to remember me by.”

“I'll always remember you, Parker,” she said, with tears filling her eyes. And for the first time, as she looked at him, she realized that he knew as well as she did what this trip was. It was their goodbye, either forever or perhaps for a very long time. It would have been hard if not impossible for her to continue to sneak away to see him. It had been nothing short of a miracle for her to be able to do so this time. He knew perfectly what was happening, and so did she. They were storing away memories now, until they met again, if they ever could. Like squirrels in winter, gathering nuts to save for when they were starving. Their life of starvation would begin the day they left Venice. Until then, they were celebrating the abundance of their love. The little emerald ring served to confirm it, and when he slipped it onto her finger and told her he loved her, she vowed to herself and to him that she would never take it off. They referred to it after that as her guillotine ring, which always made her smile.

They visited the Doge's Palace and the Pisani Palace, and then the Pesaro Palace, and the Church of Santa Maria della Salute, and Christianna particularly wanted to visit Santa Maria dei Miracoli, because she wanted to pray for a miracle for them. It was the only thing that would help them now.

They shared their last dinner in a tiny restaurant on one of the smaller canals. A man sang love songs to them, with a mandolin, and whenever they weren't eating, they held hands. They took a gondola back to the hotel, and stood outside for a long moment, in the moonlight, looking at each other. Each moment they had shared in the past few days was etched forever in their minds.

“We're going to have to be strong, you know, Cricky,” Parker said to her. Without her ever having said it to him in so many words, he knew exactly that this was the last time they would ever be together, ever or for a long time. “I'm always going to be with you, sometime, somehow. If ever you doubt it, look at your guillotine ring, remember this, and we'll find our way back to each other someday.” As she listened to him, she knew that one day he would marry someone else, have children with them, and hopefully have a happy life. She couldn't even imagine doing that herself. She wanted no one in her life but him. And all he wanted was her.

“I'll love you till the day I die,” she said, and meant every word of it, while he hoped that wouldn't be for a long, long time.

And then, walking slowly, they went inside for their last night. He made love to her, and afterward, wrapped in their robes, they stood on the balcony, and looked at Venice by moonlight. It was heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Thank you for coming to meet me here,” she said, looking at him, and he pulled her slowly into his arms.

“Don't say that to me. I would cross the world for you. Whenever you want to see me, call me, and I'll come running.” They had agreed to continue e-mailing each other. She couldn't even imagine a life without contact with him, even if she couldn't see him again. And she had promised to call him, she needed to hear his voice, too. Her father could prevent them from seeing each other, but he couldn't stop them from loving each other. Only time could do that. And for now, they were still deeply in love.

They slept in each other's arms that night, stirring occasionally, touching each other, feeling each other's breath on their cheek as they lay tangled and enmeshed. They couldn't get enough of the feel of each other's skin, or the look in each other's eyes.

They stood in the shower together in the morning, letting the water run over them, and then made love one last time. They were each taking all they could with them. It was going to be a long hard winter for a very long time without each other's touch. All they had now was each other's love.

There were no paparazzi when they left. No one had said anything to them, or asked questions. Max and Sam had left them alone for all three days. The two guards had had a good time visiting Venice together, and when they went under the Bridge of Sighs, Samuel had teased Max that it meant they'd be together forever. And Max had asked him if he wanted to be shot now or later. They were both saddened, though, when they saw the look on Christianna and Parker's faces as they left for the airport. There was total silence first in the gondola, then the car, as they left Venice, and both men walked away as the two lovers said goodbye.

“I love you,” Parker said, holding her tightly in his arms. “Remember your guillotine ring and what it means. I would die for you, Cricky. And who knows what happens in life? Maybe one of those candles you lit will work.”

“I'm counting on it,” she said softly, clinging to him for the last few minutes, and then she had to leave. Her flight was first, and she kissed him again and again until Max and Sam thought they'd have to drag her away. “I love you … I'll call you when you get home.”

“I'll be right there, whenever you want me, and right here.” He touched his heart as he had when he left her in Africa. In his heart, he had never left her since, or even before.

They kissed one last time, and feeling as though she had wrenched her soul from his, she walked away toward the plane. She turned once, waved at him, her head held high, her eyes locked in his. She touched her heart and pointed to him. He nodded at her, never letting go of her eyes, and then she turned, and boarded the plane.





Chapter 18


Christianna never said a word on the plane, on the way from Venice to Zurich. Several times she looked down and touched the little band on her hand with the emerald hearts. Both men noticed it, and won dered if they had gotten married in Venice, but they didn't think they had. It was obviously something that had some deep meaning to her. She smiled at them as they got off in Zurich, and thanked them both for coming to Venice with her. There was something very quiet about her, sad, distant, and strangely removed, as though her heart and soul had left with Parker, and only a shell was returning to Vaduz, which was in fact the case.

She was silent again when they reached the palace in Vaduz two hours later. They had driven slowly, and she was in no hurry to get home anyway. It had been a magical three days in Venice with Parker, and all she had now was the rest of her life here, in prison. She would have preferred the guillotine to this. A life of eternal duty, to a father who had denied her her dreams, all in honor of her royal lineage. It seemed a high price to pay for who she was, and didn't want to be.

The dog was outside in the courtyard when they arrived. He bounded up to her, and she patted him. He followed her inside, and she went upstairs to her rooms. She'd been told her father was still away, and was due back that afternoon. They had timed it perfectly.

Sylvie was in her office and looked up at her. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't want to pry. She handed Christianna her list of appearances for the next day and the rest of the week. There was nothing unusual on the list, and all of it promised to be tedious in the extreme.

“I assume you haven't been watching the news,” Sylvie said cautiously, as Christianna looked at her and shook her head. Sylvie noticed the narrow emerald ring too and said nothing. “Your father stunned everyone by making a fairly historic speech at the UN meetings.” Christianna waited to hear the rest without comment. Sylvie had the same impression as Sam and Max, that Christianna's body had come back, but she wasn't really there. She looked like a robot as she went through the motions, and felt like one. Her heart and soul were on a plane to Boston with Parker.

“What kind of speech?” Christianna asked finally, without any particular interest. But she knew she was supposed to remain aware of her country's political positions, and the stands they took on international policies, particularly at the UN. The meetings in Paris had been important about dealings with the Arab world.

“He took a very powerful position, for a neutral country, on how some of the disputes should be resolved. There's been a lot of talk and comment about it. Every politician and head of state in the world has been asked for comment. He came out for some very strong measures. There's been a lot of criticism from some quarters, and a lot of praise from others. The press will be swarming once he's here. One of his secretaries told me that he has four interviews lined up today. The general consensus is that he was very courageous, and it needed to be said. I think the surprise was that no one expected it from him.” In other circumstances, Christianna would have been proud of him. But she was so numb now, she didn't care.

There was also a state dinner scheduled for that night, at the palace, and for the first time in over a month, Christianna had agreed to be there. This was the life she had signed up for, and given up Parker for. Like her father, she was doing her duty. It was all she had left.

She stayed in her rooms after that, unpacked her bags herself, and looked at the photograph of Fiona she kept on her dresser. It was a picture of her laughing, with her eyes wide in surprised delight, her mouth open in gales of laughter. It was how Christianna wanted to remember her. There were others of the whole team in Senafe, but that particular photograph of Fiona was especially dear to her. It made her think of her as happy forever. And there was another one of Parker, looking straight at her, in the shorts and hiking boots and cowboy hat he had worn at the camp. She looked at all the photographs, and then at her ring.

She didn't see her father until the state dinner that night. He was full of life and seemed very pleased with himself. His speech had caused a major stir at the talks in Paris and around the world. They were surrounded by press for days, which Christianna assiduously avoided. She went about her business quietly and did what she had to. Their eyes met once across the table at the dinner, and then she avoided him. She had asked not to be seated next to him, and in spite of her reluctance to be there, she had interesting dinner partners, and a pleasant evening. It was going to be a long lifetime of these evenings without Parker. It was hard to believe now that the night before she had been in Venice with him.

By sheer coincidence, she and her father were walking up the stairs to the private apartments at the same time. She heard his footsteps behind her, and turned to look, their eyes met and held, as she stopped on the stairs, and he walked up quietly and stood next to her.

“I'm sorry, Cricky,” he said softly, and she knew what he was referring to.

“Me too.” She nodded, turned, walked up the stairs to her own rooms, and softly closed the door, as he walked past to his own rooms.