A/N: Part Three of this story arc. Again, thanks to PDXWiz for the original idea, into which I was luckily able to fit another I had had in mind for a time. Also, as ever, thanks to jtbwriter, Harry2, Bishop T, Kyryn, and all other faithful readers. Happy New Year!
§ § § -- September 4, 2004
"She didn't say that, did she?" Christian asked, staring at Leslie. "Tell me she didn't say that. Please."
"Are you sure you want me to lie, my love?" Leslie asked, not without sympathy.
Christian groaned aloud and shifted his pleading stare to Carl Johan. "Then you tell me she didn't say that."
Carl Johan grinned widely and said, "Oh no, ungstebror. She did indeed say that. I'm sorry, but hearing a lie about it won't save you from it."
"The bane of my existence," Christian muttered. "Publicity! And that's all there'll be till we go home, and quite likely for some time thereafter. Why doesn't someone track down that diver and throw him in the limelight? I expect he'd appreciate it more."
"Not necessarily," Leslie said and giggled. "I know you hate publicity, but it's for a good cause. The original crown is home, you helped it get here, and as your reward, you're getting your title back. You're going to be more than a footnote in jordisk history. You'll be the Grand Savior of the Original Royal Crown." She made it sound like an additional title, and when Christian glared at her, she started to laugh in chorus with Gabriella. "Hey, believe me, I still don't think I deserve to be called a princess, but obviously your title comes complete with one for me and for the babies too. But I have to tell you, as little as you like to admit it, you're still a prince at heart and you always will be, title or none."
"And how precisely do you draw that conclusion?" Christian demanded.
"My darling," Leslie said with a patient smile, "you've been a commoner for three years, but that can't erase a lifetime of being royalty. No matter how hard you try, you can't totally overcome your upbringing. I think it's most noticeable when you give an order and you expect it to be carried out then and there, without questions. That's the sign of a man who grew up a prince, and you've never been able to shake that. Not only do you expect it to be carried out, you don't even consider the possibility that it won't be. There's a certain tone in your voice that gets it across to other people that you've just issued a royal edict and arguing with it is not an option. You're a prince, Christian, like it or not."
"Now it'll simply be official again," Gabriella added gleefully.
Christian looked at Carl Johan in disbelief, only to see his brother nod. "She's right, Christian," he said. "It's true. Most of the time you downplay it, and if you grow too imperial you always apologize; but there's no arguing with an order you give, and you would never tolerate it. People recognize that and do as bidden. It's as simple as that."
"Aunt Leslie said everyone in your business and on the island calls you 'prince' in any case," Gabriella reminded him.
"No, not everyone," Christian corrected. "Mateo, Beth and Anton don't." He sighed then and admitted, "But Julianne and Jonathan still call me 'Boss Prince', and everyone else both here and in London addresses me as 'Your Highness'. And yes, Mr. Roarke's employees and even his guests still call me that."
"So what's the use, then, in trying to pass yourself off as a commoner?" Carl Johan asked practically. "You've been so, at least officially, for three years, just as Leslie said—and it's had almost no effect on people. You're still treated as a prince, so you may as well take back your title and resign yourself to actually being one."
Christian closed his eyes for a moment, his hand still moving a little across Tobias' back as his son slept on his shoulder, and then muttered, "Have those vultures left yet?"
"I'll check," said Carl Johan and went to do so.
Gabriella lifted Karina from Leslie's lap and cuddled her against her shoulder, stroking her little cousin's downy hair. "Truly, Uncle Christian, is it so bad to be royal? You couldn't help being born royal, and neither could Grandfather, so you can't even blame him."
At that Christian opened his eyes and peered at the young queen with an arched eyebrow. "There's plenty I can blame my father for, including this," he assured her, then let out a heavy sigh and looked at Leslie. "Perhaps it bothers me less to be royal than that it gets me so much unwanted attention. Today's media in particular are bloodthirsty. Let no good deed go unpunished and no bad deed go unreported, that's their motto."
Leslie laughed and tipped over to kiss his cheek. "Oh, come on, this is good news, and it can only be a good thing. Not only that, it involves the royal family; so if someone steps out of line, you can hand down an official punishment and Gabriella can make sure it gets carried out."
That made Gabriella laugh and Christian roll his eyes and snort. "They love to dig up dirt; that's all they do nowadays. When they tape whatever overblown ritual is required for the restoration of my title, they'll probably come up with the madness that blew up when Astrid Franzén revealed she had AIDS." He eyed his niece as Carl Johan returned and looked on. "What about Anna-Kristina? Shouldn't she have to go through this as well?"
"Her title was never actually revoked," Gabriella explained to him, patting Karina's back. "The parliament spent so much time arguing over the revocation of one title almost on the heels of another that they never got around to carrying it out. And of course, the two princesses who gave up their titles before you did are long dead, so it would be absurd to restore theirs. It's you and you alone, Uncle Christian…although you won't be truly alone up there. Aunt Leslie and the babies will be with you."
Leslie sat up straight, evoking laughter from Gabriella, Carl Johan and Christian, the last of whom tried to keep his mirth quiet for the sake of his sleeping son. "Hey, wait a minute!" she blurted. "You mean I have to go through another exhausting ritual in order to take on a title again? Please, Gabriella, no pomp and circumstance!"
"Pomp and circumstance are inevitable when you're dealing with royal matters," Carl Johan pointed out, laughing. "I'm sorry, Leslie."
"It's true," Christian agreed, equally mirthful. "You know, Briella, Anna-Laura did a wonderful job at the power transfer—you could ask her to come up with something." He caught Leslie's puzzled look. "In 1992 the family realized that Father's Alzheimer's had progressed to a point that he could no longer be relied on to rule competently on a regular basis; so we dusted off a ritual that had last been performed in the sixteenth century. We conferred what is known as rex pro tempore on Arnulf, meaning that while he was still Prince Heir as long as Father was alive, he had the power to act in the king's stead where matters of government were concerned. The last time this was done was when it became clear that Erik VIII was exhibiting a steadily worsening case of madness, and rex pro tempore was conferred upon Prince Lukas, who later became King Lukas I. But when the transcripts of the event were finally unearthed, the wording was found to be obtuse and archaic; so Anna-Laura, the head of parliament, and the attorney who was to be present at the transferral of power collaborated to recast it into modern-day speech. They did a marvelous job of it, and I think she would enjoy the challenge of creating an entirely new ceremony."
"It would be a one-time thing," Leslie said, "if the government can ever get off its collective rump and strike down the revocation-of-title law."
"True," Gabriella said, "but it would also become a historical event, and Aunt Anna-Laura's notes and such would probably be kept in the Museum of Jordisk History along with footage of the ceremony and…and…" She lit up. "And a document, signed by the two of you, formally accepting your titles again."
"Fates have mercy," groaned Christian.
Leslie grinned resignedly. "We'll have to hope they do, my love. Looks like we're going to be put through the paces, no matter what we want. So how long is it going to take to concoct and arrange a ceremony and get all the details ironed out?"
"Two weeks, if I have anything to say about it," Gabriella said with determination, "and less if possible. I'm going to begin right now." She transferred Karina to Carl Johan's embrace and hurried out of the room.
"Did the vultures leave?" Christian asked.
"Yes, they're gone," Carl Johan said, amused. "It's safe to come out now. In any case, Briella will have to wait until Anna-Laura's come out of conference with the representatives from the museum, so perhaps that will give you two time to adjust to what lies ahead."
"Now. Now is the time to go."
"Now? But it's ahead of schedule!"
"I've made all the necessary plans. This is the time to strike; there will never be a better one. Never again will they be so willing to flaunt their good fortune. I've had all I can stand of seeing it. All summer long we've been forced to endure the news, and enough is enough, do you hear me? We leave now!"
"All right, all right. I'll get the others. Perhaps we can get ourselves some good fortune in the bargain…a good monetary fortune, that is."
"Stop your laughing. We won't need thievery when we've got through with them. Get the others and let's go, we have no further time to waste."