It did not escape Anton’s notice. “I didn’t mean to talk your ear off. I’m sure you’re worn-out from your flight.” Anton lifted the seat between them and pulled out a woolly plaid blanket. “Feel free to have some rest,” he said, handing it to her. “You’ll need your strength and wits about you when we arrive.”
“Thank you.” She snuggled down with the blanket and began to consider all the people and circumstances he’d just described to her as puzzle pieces. How would they fit, or not fit, into a fuller picture? But not having slept for more than twenty-four hours, her mind was not clear or clever at the moment. And so she leaned back and closed her eyes and silently asked the Lord to lead her through what came next.
CHAPTER
Four
It took Adelaide a moment to get her bearings when she opened her eyes a while later. Anton was still sitting beside her, his focus on his laptop. He didn’t notice she was awake, so she took a moment to study him carefully. He mentioned that she was a few years younger than he was, so what would that make him? Maybe midthirties? Possibly, but he seemed to possess something that she’d been accused of having more than a few times—an old soul. His face had a boyish quality, though the dark-framed glasses he’d donned while she napped made him seem older—or maybe just more studious? All in all, he was a very attractive man.
Despite all the information he’d dispensed upon her, she really knew very little about him personally. His mother was British, he’d gone to Cambridge, and his uncle was a prime minister. She knew he worked with his uncle but was unsure of his job title . . . or if he was married. Of course, his personal life was irrelevant and none of her business, but just the same, she was curious.
“You’re awake.” He smiled, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And just in time.” He nodded toward the window on his side. “You’ll be getting your first peek at the palace after we go around this next curve.”
“Really?” She peered out to see a rugged hillside draped in low-hanging banks of fog. Very mysterious.
“We’ve been in Montovia for a couple of hours,” he said. “I almost woke you when we passed through my province, but you were sleeping so soundly.”
“Your province?”
“Yes. Gruber. It’s very mountainous and beautiful, but it is the poorest province of Montovia. Although it has, I believe, the richest people. Not monetarily, but in spirit and determination and kindness. Our little village, Marie Folyam, is quite charming. Very small and old-fashioned.”
She sat up and stretched. “Oh, I wish I’d seen it.”
“Perhaps you will someday.” He pointed out his window. “There, can you see the palace through the fog? Up on that hill there?”
She leaned toward him to look out. “Oh my goodness, it looks absolutely magical! Like a fairy-tale castle!” She studied the high stone walls and turrets, all topped with russet tiles. “It’s so beautiful. I almost don’t have words for it.”
“I think I mentioned it was first built in the fourteenth century, but it’s been added to and renovated several times. Most recently in the 1960s to modernize plumbing and electric.”
“Well, it looks amazing. Like something from an old Disney movie.”
He chuckled. “Queen Johanna has suggested renting it for movie productions, but King Max is opposed to that idea. The queen is also keen to develop tourism in Montovia, but again, the king is not so inclined.”
“I’m glad. It looks like such a special place. It’d be a shame to commercialize it.” As the limo rounded another corner, the fairy-tale scene disappeared from view. “Is the queen concerned about Montovia’s finances? Is that why she wants to create revenue?”
Anton seemed to consider this before responding. “I’m sure that’s part of it, although Montovia is fiscally stable. But I also know the queen enjoys social events, public relations, and just generally being in the spotlight.”
“Seems fitting for a queen.”
He nodded with a slightly grim expression. Adelaide knew he was trying to maintain diplomacy while still tipping her off. She appreciated it. As they continued through the rolling green countryside, she admired what appeared to be numerous vineyards, interspersed with small farms and pastures of sheep and cows and haystacks. Some of the homes had thatched roofs. All were charmingly bucolic and picturesque. But soon farm properties were replaced with estates, large houses, and landscaped yards.
“These homes look more modern than the farmhouses we just passed,” Adelaide said.
“And more costly too.”
“I noticed. You mentioned your province wasn’t too well-off. Is Hovarth much wealthier?”
“The Hovarth province is considered a more desirable place to live. In 1985, King Maximillian IV followed Liechtenstein’s lead by eliminating income tax. The government is sustained through property tax. As a result, we now have a continual influx of very wealthy landowners. Some who live here year-round and some who come seasonally. Hovarth enjoys more of this revenue than the other two provinces.”
She wanted to ask if he thought this fair and equitable, but he was pointing to a sign up ahead. “Now we’re coming into Horvath proper.”
She read the sign aloud: “Welcome to Hovarth. Capital of the Principality of Montovia. Established 1698. Population 1,854.” She turned toward him, her eyes wide. “Goodness, that’s not very big.”
“Believe it or not, it’s the largest village in Montovia. The whole province of Hovarth, including this village, holds a third of the country’s entire population.”
“Yes, I remember reading that Montovia’s population is less than fifteen thousand. Not even as big as the university I attended.” Adelaide tried to wrap her head around a country this small. Charming but strange.
The road wound past more fancy homes with large, beautiful yards and high ornate gates. Soon they were passing much smaller and older chalet-like homes on town-size lots. The houses grew taller, but nothing was over four stories. These buildings were all connected, suggesting they were within the central part of town. Suddenly they were traveling down a narrow cobblestone street, right through a picturesque village.
“Look, you can see some of the shopkeepers are already getting ready for Christmas.” Anton waved to a man on a ladder hanging a string of lights. “The village Christmas tree will go up over there.” He pointed to the village square. “That happens the first day of December. This Friday night, there’ll be a big party right here. After the tree lights are turned on, there’ll be food, music, carol singing, dancing.”
“How fun!”
“It’s always been the king’s responsibility to turn on the lights, but it’s doubtful he’ll be well enough this year.”
She frowned. “Who will do it?”
“I heard Queen Johanna and Prince Georg plan to handle it.”
She nodded solemnly. That was the first time she’d heard Anton refer to the queen’s son as Prince Georg, but it was probably his proper title. She continued to stare out her window as they passed quaint shops and businesses. She tried to fight back the suspicion that she’d just traveled through a time warp and was transported a few centuries back in time. Of course, the people’s modern clothing and small cars didn’t fit this illusion, but all in all, it was a curious blast from the past. She briefly considered pulling out her phone to take photos, but she’d never been the type to obsess over pictures. She poked fun at those who posed at every interval, photographing food from all angles until it got cold.