Two weeks before Christmas, right after her training in Geneva, she and her father went to Paris for a wedding. One of her Bourbon cousins, on her mother's side, was getting married. A princess was marrying a duke. The wedding itself was spectacular, at Notre Dame, and the reception was in a beautiful hôtel particulier on the rue de Varennes. The flowers were exquisite, every possible detail had been thought of. The bride wore a magnificent lace gown by Chanel Haute Couture with a cloud of veil that covered her face. There were four hundred people at the wedding, which was attended by royals from all over Europe, and the cream of le tout Paris, the most fashionable people in Parisian society. The wedding was at eight o'clock at night, and the groom and all the male guests wore white tie. The women wore spectacular evening gowns. Christianna wore a deep-blue velvet dress trimmed in sable, with her mother's sapphires. She saw Victoria there, who had just broken her engagement to the Danish prince. She was wilder than ever, and single yet again, she claimed much to her relief.

“When's your naughty brother coming home?” she asked Christianna, with a wild look of mischief in her eye.

“Never, at this rate,” Christianna answered. “He says not till spring.”

“Damn. What a shame. I was going to invite him to come to Tahiti with me over New Year's.” She said it in such a way that Christianna suddenly wondered if Victoria was zeroing in on him for a fling.

“Maybe he'll meet you there,” Christianna said, glancing around. It was one of the prettiest weddings she'd ever seen.

The bride had been attended by a flock of little children, carrying satin baskets filled with flower petals, as was the custom in France. “I think he's already in China,” she said vaguely. She had just spotted a friend across the room, whom she hadn't seen in years. Her father left at two in the morning, while the party was still in full swing. Along with most of the young people, Christianna stayed till nearly five A.M. The bride and groom were still there at that hour as well, dancing up a storm. The car was waiting for Christianna outside, with her bodyguards, and she got back to the Ritz, where she and her father were staying, at nearly six A.M. It had been a fabulous event, and she hadn't had as much fun in years.

Christianna couldn't help thinking, as she took off her sapphires and evening gown and laid them on a chair, that the life she led in Europe was about as far as one could get from the life she was about to lead in Africa while working for the Red Cross. But as much fun as this was from time to time, the life she would be embarking on was exactly the one she wanted. Still thinking about it, she slipped into her bed with a smile.

She and her father spent the rest of the weekend in Paris. He reminded her somewhat wistfully, while walking through the Place Vendôme on the way back to the hotel, that it wasn't too late to change her mind about working for the Red Cross. She could still change her plans and go to the Sorbonne. As soon as he said it, she looked up at him and smiled.

“Papa, I won't be away for that long.” Although she was hoping to stretch the six months to a year, if he allowed it.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” he said sadly.

“So will I. But it's going to be so exciting. And when could I ever do this again?” Now was the time, while she was still young. Later, when she took on more of her responsibilities, it would be even less likely that she could get away, and they both knew it. He had promised her, so he wouldn't go back on his word. But he hated to see her leave.

Her father encouraged her to stay in Paris for an extra day after that, or more if she wanted. But knowing she was leaving for Africa soon made her feel guilty leaving him alone for long. He was so attached to her, and missed her terribly when she was gone. Her Berkeley years had been hard for him. He was much closer to Christianna than to his son, and particularly enjoyed discussing the business matters of the principality with her, and valued her opinions.

She and Victoria went shopping on the Faubourg St. Honoré and the Avenue Montaigne on Monday. They had lunch at L'Avenue, where Freddy normally loved to pick up models. His favorite haunts were Costes, Bain Douche, Man Ray, and the Buddha Bar. Freddy had a particular fondness for Paris, but so did Christianna. She and Victoria fell into her room at the Ritz at the end of a long day, and ordered room service. They were both still tired after the wedding. And they parted company finally on Tuesday morning at the airport. Christianna flew to Zurich and Victoria to London, promising to meet up again soon. Victoria had already said she would come to Gstaad, to stay with her, if she didn't go to Tahiti. Now that she was no longer engaged, she was slightly at loose ends, and Christianna was hoping to see her again before she left.

She had a lot to do in Vaduz these days. There had been an official announcement from the palace that she was going to be traveling for the next several months, with no specifics about her plans or destination. It made security issues simpler that way, and she was determined that no one know that she was a princess while she worked for the Red Cross. Once word was out that she was leaving, suddenly everyone wanted her for ceremonies, openings, groundbreakings, parties, and blessings. She tried to do as many as she could, and she was exhausted when she and her father left for Gstaad the following week. They always had fun there. It was a very fashionable ski resort, filled with Americans and Europeans, playboys, beauties, movie stars, and assorted royals. It was one of the few vacation spots that catered to the extremely rich that Christianna actually enjoyed. She and her father were both avid skiers, and they had a wonderful time there every year.

She and her father celebrated Christmas quietly together, they went to midnight mass afterward, and she tried to call Freddy in Hong Kong but he was out. It seemed odd not to have him there with them, and he called them both the following morning. He asked about the Bourbon wedding in Paris, and she told him of Victoria's somewhat offhand invitation to him for Tahiti. He said he was sorry to miss it, but maybe he'd go with her for Easter, and after begging his sister to reconsider her plans again, he wished them both a Merry Christmas and hung up.

Christianna and her father stayed in Gstaad, as they always did, till just after New Year, and she was startled to realize once they got back that she only had four days left in Vaduz before she left. And for her father's taste, the last days flew by much too fast. He wanted to savor every moment he could with her. But his own responsibilities intruded too much of the time. He walked into her room on the last day with a mournful look. She was busy packing her bags, and looked up as he came in. Even the dog was lying near her suitcase, looking sad.

“Charles and I are going to miss you,” he said, looking unhappy.

“Will you take care of him for me?” she asked, giving her father a hug. She was going to miss them, too. But she couldn't wait to leave on her big adventure.

“Yes, I will. But who will take care of me?” He was only half-teasing. He relied on her company for more than he would have, if his wife were still alive, or if Freddy were more of a presence in his life or a better companion. He was never around, and when he was, he provided more aggravation and concern than companionship or support. Christianna's father spoke to her, and opened up to her as he did to no one else in his life.

“I'll be back soon, Papa. And Freddy will be back in another month or two.” Her father rolled his eyes, and they both laughed.

“I don't think your brother will ever take care of me, or anyone else. And I think I'd be frightened if he did. The rest of us will be taking care of him.” They both knew he was right, and Christianna laughed again, although they both shared the same concern about what would happen to the country when Freddy would be the reigning prince. Christianna's father had begun to hope that she would become her brother's principal adviser, when that happened, and was trying to teach her all he could. She was a willing student, loving daughter, shirked no responsibilities, and never failed him, which would make her absence more acute, although admittedly even he knew that at times he put far too much burden on her.

“I'm sure he'll grow up one of these days, Papa,” Christianna said, trying to sound confident and hopeful, however undeserved.

“I wish I shared your optimism. I miss the boy, but I don't miss the chaos he creates while he's here. It's awfully peaceful around here without him.” He was always honest with her, as she was with him.

“I know. But there's no one like him, is there?” she said, sounding like an adoring sister, which she was. He had been her hero when she was a little girl, although he had always teased her, and still did now. “I'll call you whenever I can, Papa. Apparently they have phones at the post office there, although they're not very reliable, I'm told, and sometimes the lines are down for weeks. Then all we can do is radio out. But I'll get word to you somehow, I promise.” She knew her bodyguards would work something out, so she could get messages to her father to reassure him. They wouldn't have dared to do otherwise, or he might force her to come back, if she caused him to worry too much. She was going to do everything she could to stay in touch, whatever that had to be. She was still hoping he would allow her to extend her trip. She wanted to stay the full year.

Their last night together was bittersweet. They had dinner in the private dining room, and talked about her plans. She asked him about some new economic policies he had just introduced, and what the parliament's reaction had been to them. He was pleased that she had asked, and enjoyed discussing it with her. But then it only reminded him again of how lonely his life would be without her. She hadn't even left yet, and he couldn't wait for her to get back. He wanted the coming months to speed past, and he knew they wouldn't. Without the bright sunshine she provided in his life, the days would drag. Selfishly, he was thinking of insisting that she come back after the initial six months, and when he mentioned it to her, she asked him to wait to decide. She might be ready to come back then herself, or need a few more months to finish whatever she started. She asked him to keep an open mind, and he agreed. Their exchanges were always reasonable, affectionate, and adult. In many ways, she was one of the main reasons he hadn't remarried. With Christianna to keep him company, and talk to him, he didn't need a wife, nor want one. And besides, he felt it was too late in his life to start again. Before that, he had been too busy. He was comfortable now as he was, although he would be far less so when she was gone. He kissed her goodnight, already mourning her absence, and they had breakfast together the next morning. She was wearing blue jeans for the long flight, and would probably wear nothing else for the next year. She had packed only one dress, just in case, two peasant skirts she had brought back from California, several pairs of shorts she had worn at school, a stack of jeans and T-shirts, hats, mosquito netting, insect repellents, her malaria medication, and sturdy boots and shoes to protect her from the dreaded snakes.