A King In Love Read online

  “I don’t know about that,” Gretel said. “We were just told to have the best bedroom ready for him.”

  “Is that the one Papa always stays in?” Zita enquired.

  Gretel nodded.

  “Well, when he goes up there alone,” Zita said, “I want you to offer him a cup of coffee or some wine and, when you bring it up, I will carry it in to him.”

  Gretel looked at her in astonishment.

  “Why should you want to do that?”

  “Because it is the only chance I shall ever have of seeing him properly,” Zita replied. “Oh, Gretel, you have to help me! I want so much to see him and it would be too depressing if he goes away and I never even catch a glimpse of him except for the top of his head from my bedroom window.”

  “If he’s wearing a plumed helmet, you won’t see very much,” Gretel said with a smile.

  “No, that is what I thought,” Zita answered. “That is why you have to help me and I have brought a dress with me like the one I used to wear when I went away with Papa.”

  She went on,

  “Actually, it’s not the same one, because I cannot get into it, but I managed to persuade one of the housemaids to buy me a new one in town without Mama knowing. And listen, Gretel, I am sure we will soon be coming to see you, because Papa has promised to take me into the mountains with him after the King has left.”

  “I’m glad about that!” Gretel exclaimed. “And you must come here. You know how we love having you.”

  “It used to be such fun!” Zita said. “Do you remember the night I danced for your guests and not only did they clap but they threw flowers at me as if they were bouquets?”

  “They thought you were marvellous!” Gretel said. “So did I!”

  “I must have been about nine when that happened.”

  Gretel gave a little laugh.

  “I remember one night a man who really didn’t know who you were tried to kiss you and you poured beer over his head! Everybody laughed and teased him so that he went away in a huff!”

  “Luckily Papa was doing something else and did not see what was happening or I have a feeling he would not have let me talk so freely to strangers as I was allowed to do.”

  “You were always so pretty, that was the trouble,” Gretel said.

  “Yes, that was the trouble,” Zita agreed, “and that is the trouble now. I shall never be allowed to see the King unless you help me.”

  “What if he knows who you are?” Gretel suggested.

  “Why should he?” Zita replied. “I assure you, at home they are not even going to mention that I exist in case he asks to see me. Sophie wants him to herself and that is what she is going to have, but I just want to have one tiny peep at him before he rides away at Papa’s side with everybody cheering except me.”

  Zita thought for a second.

  Then she said,

  “I cannot see how there would be any harm in it and there is no reason for anybody in the inn to know I am here, except you.”

  “Who saw you when you came in?”

  “Only an ostler. I don’t know him by sight and he paid no attention to me.”

  “That’ll be Carl. He’s always up early and he’s rather stupid.”

  “If anybody asks whose horse it is in the stable, just say you had a friend to visit you,” Zita continued, “but I don’t suppose they will ask many questions.”

  “No, of course not,” Gretel agreed. “Let’s have a look at your dress and I’d better put on some clothes or I’ll get into trouble.”

  As Zita undid her bundle, Gretel dressed quickly, putting on clothes of the same sort as Zita had brought with her.

  It was the national costume of Aldross and was almost identical to those of all the other countries in that part of Europe.

  There was a very full red skirt over a number of stiffly starched petticoats, a prettily embroidered white blouse that had over it a black velvet corset, which laced down the front and a ribbon sash.

  All that was missing from Zita’s costume was the white apron that Gretel wore when she was working.

  “I could not ask the maid to buy me that,” Zita explained, “she might have thought it strange.”

  “I’m sure she would have,” Gretel agreed. “She wouldn’t expect her Royal Highness to be handing round the coffee and pouring out glasses of wine!”

  She went to a chest of drawers in the corner of the room and fetched a little apron very much like her own, except that it was edged with lace.

  “This is my best,” she said. “I was going to wear it for His Majesty, but your need is greater than mine.”

  “Thank you, Gretel. Any tip he gives me will be yours.”

  Gretel laughed.

  “I don’t expect much in the way of a tip. I’ve always found that the grand ones who come through here think their presence is enough benefit to those who wait on them.”

  Zita laughed.

  “Well, we will find out exactly what the King is like once we have met him. Whether he is generous or stingy, gracious or ungracious. Approaching him as a serving maid will be very different, I am sure, from meeting him on equal terms.”

  “You’ll get into trouble if you’re found out and so shall I!” Gretel pointed out.

  “You can put all the blame on me,” Zita said. “But if we are clever there should be no reason why anyone should know anything about it and I shall have caught a glimpse of His Majesty King Maximilian off-guard, which I feel will be very revealing!”

  Chapter Three

  When she was dressed, Gretel went downstairs to fetch Zita some steaming black coffee and hot croissants straight from the oven.

  “It’s all right,” she said when she brought them to the bedroom. “Nobody’s going to worry about you. They’re all in a fever of excitement getting ready for the King.”

  She then showed Zita to the room across the passage, where she could watch the King’s entourage as it came through Valdastien towards Aldross.

  The Inn of the Golden Cross had been built, as its Proprietor claimed, exactly on the boundary.

  “I am astride two nations,” he would say as he stood at the bar with his hands on his hips, looking like Shakespeare’s Falstaff.

  One reason why the inn was patronised by the citizens both of Aldross and of Valdastien was that it was at the foot of one of the highest and most popular mountains in Aldross.

  That was why the Grand Duke so often stopped at the inn when he was on his climbing expeditions.

  It was also, Zita observed, a jovial place where everybody seemed to be laughing or singing and the food was certainly better than the fare at many other inns of the same type.

  Having finished her coffee and croissants, she took off her riding habit and dressed herself in the national costume, which was very becoming.

  Fortunately, one of the housemaids at the Palace was an intelligent woman who had understood exactly what Zita wanted and was also prepared to keep the purchase secret.

  “When all the festivities are over, Maria,” Zita had told her confidentially, “I am going away with Papa into the mountains. As you know, he likes to think that nobody recognises us, so I must look like a peasant.”

  Maria had laughed.

  “That’s the last thing you look, Your Royal Highness, and everybody recognises the Grand Duke, even though they pretend otherwise.”

  “I know that,” Zita replied with a smile, “but all I am concerned with at the moment is that I shall be with him and get away from here and being scolded every time I open my mouth.”

  “It’s a real shame Your Royal Highness is not allowed to go to the ball!” Maria exclaimed. “Everybody downstairs says how you’d be the loveliest woman present and it’s too bad you have to miss it all.”

  “I know,” Zita sighed, “but if Princess Sophie marries the King, then we will have a Royal Wedding and that will be very exciting!”

  As she spoke, she saw the expression on Maria’s face and knew that the maid thought it
was very unlikely that this would happen.

  Because Zita knew it would be very indiscreet for her to discuss her sister with one of the servants, she had quickly changed the subject.

  Now when she had finished dressing she looked in the small mirror that Gretel had in her room and arranged her hair as the peasant girls did, with ribbons that fell down to her shoulders.

  She had been very careful to order these to be of green, yellow and blue, which would not clash with the colour of her hair and when the arrangement was finished she thought that it was in fact a very becoming headdress.

  By now there was a noise and bustle downstairs which told her that everybody was up and making feverish preparations for their distinguished guest.

  She had learnt from the programme she had read when it was on her mother’s desk that the two rulers were to meet in private inside the inn.

  When they had exchanged greetings and taken a glass of wine together, the King’s escort would return home and the rulers of Aldross and Valdastien, driving in an open carriage escorted by a squadron of Cavalry, would travel down the decorated road towards the Capital.

  First the King would be greeted by the Prime Minister and Members of the Cabinet, then by the Civic Mayor and finally the Aldermen of the City.

  After that they were to proceed to the Palace, where the Grand Duchess and Sophie would be waiting for them.

  As Zita remembered what was to happen, she thought with a smile that King Maximilian would doubtless find it very boring.

  ‘I am sure it is something he has done thousands of times,’ she told herself, ‘and he would much rather be driving in the Bois de Boulogne with a lovely lady beside him, looking forward to a tête-à-tête this evening and perhaps dining with her in one of the smart restaurants in Paris where there is both dancing and a café concert.”

  These were of course the entertainments that Madame Goutier and the Professor had described to her and, because she elaborated and coloured them in her imagination, she could almost see them happening.

  ‘I know that is what the King would really enjoy,’ she decided.

  Because she thought it was getting late, she left Gretel’s bedroom and walked across the passage to enter an empty room with a window that looked directly into Valdastien.

  It was not unlike Aldross in that there were high snow-capped mountains and between them a rich valley where horses could gallop freely over grass colourful with wild flowers.

  The great difference between the two countries was that Valdastien was fertilised through the very centre of it by a wide river, which not only ensured that their crops were productive, but could also carry barges filled with merchandise from Valdastien directly to the sea.

  This made the country much more prosperous than some of its neighbours and naturally evoked a certain amount of envy.

  ‘It would certainly be to Aldross’s advantage if there was a link between our two countries,’ Zita thought, ‘and of course, if Sophie marries the King, we shall be in a much stronger position to stand up against Germany.’

  She moved a hard chair to the window and sat on it, leaning her elbows on the sill to look down the narrow dusty road that ran from the hillside into the valley and along which the King would ride.

  By now, Zita thought, the housemaid who usually called her would be aware that she was not in the Palace and she would doubtless report her absence to her lady-in-waiting.

  She thought now that it might have been wiser to take Maria into her confidence.

  Then she decided that because her riding habit was missing and her boots were not in their usual place, Maria would think she had gone riding.

  The lady-in-waiting, Baroness Mekszath, whom she shared with Sophie, would be far too busy dolling herself up to be in attendance when the King arrived for her to worry over what had happened to her other charge.

  ‘When I go back home,’ Zita decided, ‘I will just say that I went for a ride. Nobody can blame me for wanting to do something on my own when I have been excluded from all the excitement they are able to enjoy.’

  As she thought again somewhat resentfully of the way she had been treated, she saw in the far distance a cloud of dust and felt her heart leap with excitement.

  It was difficult to see clearly for some time.

  Then at last she realised there was not one carriage but a number of them and, when they came nearer still, she saw, as she had expected, that the King was riding ahead with a number of attendants also on horseback.

  Behind them came the carriages bringing the dignitaries of Valdastien, who would bid him farewell at the boundary and after them followed the luggage with the valets and footmen who attended on His Majesty.

  Because there seemed to be so much luggage, Zita thought how much more pleasant it was to travel as she and her father would do when all this was over.

  All they required would be rolled up in two bundles, one attached to each of their saddles, with just a few small objects in the saddlebags themselves.

  “We will be free, free of all that kowtowing and, ‘yes, Your Majesty!’ and, ‘no, Your Royal Highness!’” she said aloud, before quickly suppressing a gleeful giggle.

  The cavalcade came nearer still and now Zita could pick out quite clearly which rider was the King.

  It was easy because he was a dominating and distinguished figure, even though he was wearing plain riding clothes that were indistinguishable from those of his companions.

  Then Zita thought as she watched them drawing nearer and nearer that she would have known he was somebody of authority even if she had seen him standing in a crowd.

  He rode at a sharp pace although the inn was in sight and only when they reached it and he was aware that a welcoming party was waiting for him, did he say something to one of the men beside him and draw in his horse.

  The main door of the inn was obscured from Zita’s view because the building had been erected right on the frontier, so that part of it lay in one country and part in the other.

  The King therefore disappeared from her view before she could really see him as closely as she wished.

  Then, there was only the dust as the carriages drew to a standstill, before they could move on to the front door.

  Zita watched for a moment or two, then with a little murmur of excitement because the moment was growing near when she would see the King, she followed Gretel’s instructions and moved along the passage to the front of the inn.

  She knew which bedroom the King was to use and Gretel had shown her a small room opposite it, which was occupied usually by a servant or a traveller who could not pay much money, but which at this moment was empty.

  Zita slipped inside, leaving the door ajar so that she could hear the sound of voices downstairs and, as they rose louder and louder she was aware that the Proprietor was escorting the King into the inn.

  Then she decided that he must have been having a drink with his own people before they left him, because she thought she could hear the clink of glasses and the popping of corks, although it might have been her imagination.

  At any rate, she was certain that they would be toasting the King and wishing him luck on the journey that lay ahead of him.

  She had already worked out for herself the other countries he might visit in search of a wife, if Sophie did not come up to his expectations.

  It was obviously to his advantage to marry somebody who lived next door, so he might visit Bosnia, Serbia, Bulgaria and perhaps even Rumania, although that was much further away from Valdastien.

  Another of the countries could be Hungary and Zita was certain that there he could find a Hungarian Princess who, if nothing else, would appreciate the Valdastien horses.

  When she had questioned her father as to whether there were many eligible brides in these countries, he had been very vague.

  “I really don’t know the answer to that, my dearest,” he had replied. “All I do know is that there are only a few countries with eligible bachelors for you two girl
s.”

  “That makes it all the more important for Sophie to capture the King,” Zita remarked. “At least he is an eligible bachelor and, from all I have heard, he is very attractive.”

  The Grand Duke was silent for a moment before he remarked,

  “Attractive men do not always make good husbands.”

  Zita was about to make a complimentary reply when she thought that if she was honest, although her father outwardly was a most attentive husband, he failed his wife in that he had never given her his heart.

  ‘But that is something no one can give without love,’ she thought to herself, ‘and love is something which does not obey orders, even when they are given by Kings or Queens!’

  She began to laugh at her own fantasy.

  Then, as if her father realised they were walking on delicate ground, he had changed the subject to talk about something else.

  *

  Zita was suddenly aware that somebody was coming up the uncarpeted wooden stairs and she pushed the door she was standing by a little farther to, so that there was only a tiny crack for her to see through.

  As she had expected, she saw a man who was obviously a valet, followed by the porter from the inn carrying a small trunk.

  “I’ll unpack for His Majesty,” she heard the valet say as they disappeared into the bedroom, “and when I’ve repacked it with the clothes he’s wearing now, you can take it down and put it on the back of the carriage which will follow His Majesty to the City.”

  The words were spoken in the somewhat grandiose manner of a Palace servant who thinks himself immeasurably superior to all lesser servants.

  There was the thump of a trunk being put down on the floor and the noise of straps being undone and Zita could visualise the King’s uniform being taken out and laid on the bed.

  The porter had already gone back down the stairs and now there was only the valet in the bedroom.

  It struck Zita for the first time that she would not see the King alone.

  She had forgotten that he would not dress himself and, although it rather spoilt her plan if there was a servant present when she saw him, it was not really important.