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queen, and exactly Christianna's age. She was full of mischief and fun, and she had just gotten engaged to a Danish prince. Christianna's face lit up as soon as he suggested the idea.
    “That would be a lot of fun, Papa. You wouldn't mind?”
    “Not at all.” He beamed at her. It pleased him to think that she might have some fun. There was nothing very exciting for her to do in Liechtenstein. “I'll have my secretary arrange it in the morning.” Christianna quickly got up and put her arms around his neck, as Charles groaned, rolled over, and wagged his tail. “Stay with her for as long as you like.” He didn't worry about her getting out of control in London, as he did about his son. Christianna was a very well-behaved young woman, who was always cognizant of her responsibilities to her position and to him. She had had fun in Berkeley, for four years, but had never gotten even remotely out of hand, at least as far as her father knew. The two devoted bodyguards who had gone to Berkeley with her had managed to keep a lid on things once or twice. Nothing serious, but like any girl her age, even a royal one, there had been a few brief romances, and a night or two of too much fun with more than a little wine involved, but she had come to no harm, and never to the attention of the press.
    Her father kissed her goodnight, and she lay on the floor for a while longer, listening to the music, and then she got up and checked her e-mail before she went to bed. She had e-mails from her two college friends, checking in and asking her how her “princess life was going.” They loved to tease her about it. They had looked up Liechtenstein on the Internet, and had been stunned when they saw the palace in which she lived. It was beyond anything they could have imagined. She had promised to visit them both at some point, but for the moment had no plans to do so. Besides, she knew it would be different now. Their days of innocence and easy fun were over. Or at least hers were. One of her friends was already working in Los Angeles, and the other was traveling with friends for the summer. She had no other choice than to make peace with her own life, and make the best of it. She liked her father's suggestion of going to see her cousin in London.
    On Friday morning she drove to Vienna with her father. They had to travel across the Alps, and it was a six-hour trip to the family's previous seat, Palace Liechtenstein in Vienna. It was spectacularly beautiful, and unlike the palace at Vaduz, which was their main residence, parts of the palace in Vienna were open to the public. The part that she and her father occupied was heavily guarded and somewhat secluded. Her apartment there was far more ornate than her rooms in Vaduz, which were beautiful but somewhat more human scale. At Palace Liechtenstein, she had an enormous bedroom with a huge canopied bed, mirrors and gilt everywhere, and on the floor a priceless Aubusson carpet. It looked like a museum, and a huge chandelier hung overhead, still lit by candles.
    The familiar servants she had known all her life were waiting for her there. An ancient ladies' maid who had served her mother twenty years before helped her dress, while a younger woman drew her bath and brought her something to eat. She went to meet her father in his rooms at exactly eight o'clock wearing a black Chanel cocktail dress she had bought in Paris the year before. She was wearing small diamond earrings, her mother's pearls, and the ring she always wore, a chevalière with the family crest on it, on the little finger of her right hand. It was the only symbol she wore as a sign of her royal birth, and unless one was familiar with the crest, it was no more impressive than any other signet ring. The crest was carved into a simple oval of yellow gold. She had no need for symbols indicating who she was, everyone in Liechtenstein and Austria knew, and recognized her when they saw her, as they did throughout Europe. She was a remarkably