He looked awful in the morning. His eyes were puffy, his skin was pale and he was literally just falling asleep when I slid out of bed and turned my clock off.
"Do we have to get up?" he asked.
"Go back to sleep, Mircea," I murmured and kissed his forehead.
He did without complaint but only because he literally couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. I watched him for a moment, changed the alarm time to half twelve which was late enough to let him get a decent amount of sleep, but early enough to give him time for a shower before meeting Florin if he wanted one, and then on silent feet walked out, pulling my silk dressing gown on and picking up my schedule folder as I went.
I wasn't sure if anyone else was up yet so I quietly made my way down to the kitchen. On the stairs I saw Simona polishing the banister.
"Good morning, Ma'am," she smiled and bobbed a curtsy. "Sleep well?"
"For the most part, thank you," I smiled. "That bed is like a slice of heaven. How are you?"
"Very good, thank you, Miss Anwyn."
"Good. Do you know if anyone else is up?"
"Her Majesty had an early meeting and left earlier with Prince Miticia, Princess Sofia is up and about in her room and I think I saw Princess Tereza getting breakfast when I came in."
"Ok. Thank you."
She bobbed again and the only reason I could cope with it after last night was because it was like the bobs the waitresses gave all over Europe. I hurried down to the kitchen positively craving even just the smell of tea leaves. As soon as I was in there I was putting the kettle on and then searched for the cupboard devoted to tea Mircea had promised me was waiting for me. After I'd opened about ten cupboards someone laughed behind me.
"Try the one directly above the kettle," she said in English.
I did and nearly cried. The first box of tea I saw was English Breakfast. I swear I relaxed as soon as I had my hands on the familiar Twinings box. There were mugs hung under the cupboard and I picked out the biggest one I could find. It was actually mine.
"So that's where this went!" I exclaimed. It was more or less tye-died purple and my name had been written on it in my shaky, huge and very bad four year old handwriting. It was a miracle it had lasted this long.
"Mircea posted it a few days ago apparently. He was laughing about it last night. Apparently you'd been pretty frantic about it."
I actually had been. The kettle boiled and I set to making a perfect mug of tea and then I sat with Tereza at the island. She was eating toast and looking at a now familiar schedule. She saw me looking at it even though it was a quick glance since it was all in Romanian.
"We didn't get to talk much last night. I'm helping the people in the homeless shelters," she said. "I visit them a lot but it seems like a never ending task. Makes me feel bad about living in such a nice place. I've got a penthouse in one of the new apartment blocks."
"Nice."
She smiled. "So I'm in meetings all day, what about you?"
"Dancing, hair make over for the interview which I am not thinking about and a meeting with Mircea and Florin."
"Between you and me, I think you and Mircea make a pretty deadly team. His political know how and your farm knowledge... you look pretty amazing together too. Just, don't tell Alexia I said that. I'm sorry about her attitude towards you."
"Uh, thanks. And not a word is going to pass between us. Not that we can both understand anyway."
She chuckled.
I took my first sip of tea today and it was delicious. I actually sighed and slumped in my seat which made Tereza laugh.
"So how do you like our fair, war savaged country so far?"
"I've only seen bits of the city."
"Well, that will all change in the next few days. What about the palace?"
"It's... big?"
She laughed some more. "Well I've got to dash. See you at dinner."
"Bye."
* * * * *
The dancing lesson was in the ballroom and Vlad wasn't very impressed that Mircea wasn't there, but he politely didn't show it. We went over spacing and timing and a bunch of other dancy things whose names I forgot. Then I just about had time to grab a shower before meeting Carol in the same room as yesterday. I sat myself down in his comfortable chair facing the mirrors and put the multitude of pins and ties that he'd used yesterday on the table. He instantly got to work.
"Any advice on how not to screw this up?" I asked.
"Nervous?"
"I didn't manage much breakfast," I admitted. I was seriously regretting that since I was now absolutely starving. Apparently two hours of dancing took it out of you even if it was just ballroom.
"Knowing that you're from a farm no one expects you to be perfect. So long as you're charming and honest and true to yourself they will love you," he said with a soft smile.
I chewed my lip and knew that I didn't look convinced. "And if I say something wrong?"
"You can't afford to," Dragomir said from the door and strode in. "Especially now."
I slouched. "What did I do?"
"Sit up," Carol said.
Dragomir pulled a chair over and sat in front of me to the side of the mirror. He had an earpiece in, one of those sets of glasses that let you do video calls as you walked around and an electronic tablet in his hands. His suit was crisp and freshly ironed and his hair was cut to perfection. He looked more royal than I ever would. Anastasia gave me a huge mug of tea.
Dragomir sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. He was in his thirties so I'd been told, but he looked a little younger. "You haven't done anything apart from be Prince Mircea's girlfriend. It's the other side of the family."
I couldn't remember their surname, but the other side of the family wasn't allowed to rule or even really considered royal because of a really old law which didn't allow them to rule. Mircea said they'd been really jealous when his family was reinstated and not them. He also said they'd made a number of power plays in the last few years trying to make the public want them back instead. Their following was small, but they were fanatics and spread all sorts of rumours and lies.
"They're saying that a simple farming girl will never amount to anything and will dilute the royal bloodline," he sighed. "Don't even get me started on the fact that you're Irish."
"Welsh."
"Forgive me. Of course," he said too politely.
I sighed. "Sorry. I should be used to that by now."
He smiled and patted my knee. "I'm sure you'll set that straight today."
"I thought Mircea's 'born and raised on a farm' statement yesterday would have done that," I sighed again. "Are you here to tell me how to fix this?"
"Just... be yourself. But without slouching," he warned. "Make a joke or two. Smile."
I nodded and got poked with a bobby pin for the trouble.
"Carol's going for... What did you say?"
"Sophisticated, but harkening back to your farming routs," he smiled at me through the mirror.
"Milk maid braid?" I asked.
"Exactly."
I sat there for half an hour while Carol worked my hair and then I went back to the house to finish my essay and then I had to go and meet Mircea. But because we were going straight from the meeting to the interview I had to decide what to wear for that. Anastasia and Simona were dusting and hovering in the bedroom and when I couldn't decide what to wear I asked them.
"Prince Mircea's wearing a blue tie, Ma'am," Simona said. "Light blue."
I turned to my wardrobe. I only had two blue smart ensembles and only one of them was light blue, cornflower, so it was on with the dress and long sleeved bolero and silver shoes that were more thin straps than shoe. I added a silver watch, necklace and earrings and then asked how to get to Mircea's office. They showed me the way.
The political wing was more lavishly decorated because there were public tours of the area so there were old royal costumes on display, somewhere there was a selection of the crown jewels and there was a lot of art. Pretty quickly we came across one of the tour parties. We tried to sneak around the edge of the huge lobby but a little girl spotted me, pointed and called something about a princess.
Realising that she meant me I forced a smile even though I kind of just wanted to hurry out of there. Fortunately it was on my face before the rest of the group turned, smiled and took photos.
"Wave," Simona whispered.
Remembering Mircea's jerky wave on the plane I smiled a bit more and carefully waved. The little girl ran over to me, her mother swiftly following babbling apologies. Before I could tell her it was ok, she grabbed her daughter's arm and pulled her back to the group. The little girl looked back at me with a shy smile. I smiled back and then turned to walk the rest of the way through the lobby and to the private business wing of the area.
We passed another couple of groups who took photos. I smiled and waved a little feeling a lot like an idiot on show and then we rounded the corner to an empty, much less decorated corridor, and I let out a long breath, one I hadn't realised I'd been holding. A few moments later we got to Mircea's study. It was empty so I plopped myself down in a chair and tipped my head back.
The ceiling was normal height and plainly painted off white. I could have cried. The walls were a soothing shade of green and there was a photo of the sea on one of them. The window looked out to the side gardens, public gardens, and the road beyond. I was in a textile chair which wasn't so soft I felt like I was sitting on a bed of feathers and it was oddly reassuring and homey.
"Wyn," Mircea said with a smile.
I sat up and he sat next to me. His advisor and woman sat opposite.
"This is Florin and Magdalena. My girlfriend, Anwyn."
Florin was about forty five and greying at the temples. His calming smile stretched to his eyes and his handshake was firm. Magdalena was a little older and I realised I recognised her from war time coverage. She was one of the few members of the old government to survive, mostly because the rebels made damn sure to keep her alive and she'd learned to use a gun or two.
"Glad to have your expertise," she said in English.
"I've only had experience on the one farm," I said modestly.
"More experience than the three of us put together," Florin said practically. "Here's a report about the average state of the farms," he said putting a manila folder in my hands. It was a few inches thick. "And reports specific to the farms you'll be visiting." He gave me another couple of folders.
"Can you tell me what ideas you've had so far?" Magdalena asked quickly and got her tablet out.
"Uh... Ok, I get that you really want to get the ball rolling with this, but, um, can you tell me what happened to the farms during the war? It wasn't on the news."
"No I suppose your news was focused on your troops," she said bitterly. "The Bulgarians, those god forsaken damned Bulgarian –" she swore in Romanian.
"A lot of the troops were acting under duress," I snapped because once again this was ignorance and narrow-mindedness at its finest and I hated it. "Be fair to them. It was probably only the high ranking officers who were really on board with the war."
"Says who?" she snapped right back.
"History," I said firmly.
"You're defending them?" she demanded.
"Yes. Because prejudice and racial discrimination was made punishable for a reason. Hate is what starts wars half the time and you just got out of one. Besides, you're supposed to set an example to the people and I'd be downright ashamed to be setting that precedent."
"It's easier for you to say, it wasn't your country they invaded."
"No," I said calmly. "But they killed soldiers from home and assassinated my former king. We weren't affected anywhere near as badly as you true, but you need to at the very least try and keep an open mind about them. They were in civil war because of the governments actions before the end."
Magdalena sighed and slumped a little. Florin and Mircea looked a mix of shocked and impressed.
"I'll never stop being bitter about what they did," she said.
"I don't expect you to forgive the governments actions, but don't rule them out completely."
She looked up. "I will try. Ok, so the farms weren't hit by the bombs because they were going to be needed to sustain the Bulgarians, but they kept most of the livestock for themselves. The people were left hungry, but not quite starving, whilst they feasted. The farmers who retaliated were made an example of. They were made to watch as all of their land was burned to ruin, the animals kept in barns that were set alight and then shot on live broadcasts.
"Perhaps inadvertently they left whole areas with animals that could not be interbred because they are too closely related. The money the farmers had was squandered by the invading forces and in the last few days of the war many buildings on the farms – barns, store rooms, houses and the like – were burned down or damaged beyond reasonable repair. They did the same to bits of equipment too, especially the bits that help with the harvest. With no money left the rural ones especially, the ones with the least money, haven't been able to get back on their feet. Even the ones near main towns and cities are still struggling.
"The aid charities have given volunteers though there are never enough so chunks of the crop aren't harvested in time, but there's just enough to go around. There's never enough to trade and farming is what we were once known for.
"Almost none of the farms can afford enough veterinary care," she sighed. "The charities help, but they lack people with the skills to administer care. It's a mess."
"Telling me," I murmured and began thinking. "The first things with the animals are vet care and moving them about the country to swap gene pools around. Moving just the male animals will do that. Has that been done?"
"There aren't many left. The soldiers with brains killed most of them off in those days before the war ended."
"And no one thought of this sooner?" I asked incredulously. "Import them, move the ones you have around as much as possible –"
"The report's only just been finished, Wyn," Mircea said. "Remember this is completely new territory for us. What's common sense for us –"
"Isn't much of a leap for a guy like you," I snapped. "Bloody good job I didn't break up with you when you told me," I grumbled to myself. "Does anyone know who many males of each animal there are and how they're all related?"
Florin opened his copy of the big report, found the right page and turned it to me. "The farmers have had a little success in this area since we got the figures for this part in."
"Good," I nodded and looked over the report. It wasn't the most encouraging thing in the world. "Anyone got some blank paper?" Mircea passed me some and a multi-colour pen. "Ok, so using my parent's farm as a model, we're a small farm though so you'll have to scale up a bit. We've got three herds of fifty beef cows and thee males." I wrote the figures down in a corner and then drew three circles each in a different colour. "Each year we swap the males from each heard around, there's a set pattern so that we're sustainable pretty much indefinitely with just the three males." I began to draw the pattern and continued speaking. "By the time the male has got back to its original group the new cows are genetically different enough from the male to reproduce with them. Every five years we swap one of the bulls with either a bull born on the farm or we swap with another farmer, sometimes from the other side of the country just to add a bit more diversity. It works with sheep, pigs... any animal. I'll have to study the figures you've given me a bit more, but you're probably somewhere around the three thousand mark short."
"And we can change that by producing some of our own and moving them around and importing some?" Mircea asked.
"It would be pretty quick doing it like that, yeah. But the farms with only two males will already be out of a diverse gene pool and need all new males. To save costs you could swap animals maybe, I don't know what the transport charges and things are, but farmers won't swap an animal if they're not going to get one that's in good condition."
"And for that they need to pay vet bills," Florin sighed and rubbed his hands together. "God this is a mess."
"We can fix it," Mircea said with determination.
"Do you know exactly what the charities are doing?" I asked.
Dragomir smiled and dumped a load of folders on the table. "I've got reports on that too. Trouble is, they've not got people at every farm."
I hadn't expected them too. For the rest of the hour we discussed what was happening to bring Mircea and me up to speed and re-affirm things for the other two. We shot some basic ideas around and then Dragomir and Dorina arrived with Carol and told us it was time to get ready for the interview.
"Good luck," Florin said as he left.
"You'll be fine," Magdalena smiled.
"How about we do it in here?" Dragomir asked when they'd gone. "Shows that you're working, we can have some of the reports on show..."
"Sure," Mircea said.
Dragomir and Dorina got to organising the room. Carol walked over with his little make-up bag and sat on the coffee table in front of us. He took one look at Mircea and sighed. His eyes were still a little puffy and his skin a little pale.
"Without meaning to speak out of turn, Your Highness, you look like you could use some sleep," he said.
"I fell like it too," Mircea replied.
Carol got his things out and set to work making Mircea look more like a fit and healthy human being. I took a photo on my phone and sent it to Mum, Dad and Roy (he could handle spur of the moment texts) with the caption pre-interview prep. and made it so the song "I Feel Like A Woman" played when the message was opened. I got a message straight back from Mum. It was the sound of her laughter.
"What on earth?" Mircea asked without moving his lips because, yes, a little lip balm was being applied.
I laughed. "My mother's laughing at you."
Dad sent a message that was exactly the same, well it was his voice laughing at us, but you know. Mircea rolled his eyes when Roy's laughter filled the room. The whole time Carol was stubbornly keeping a straight face and Dorina and Dragomir were keeping their backs to us as much as possible.
Then my make-up was given a touch up and then the TV crews were allowed in to set up. It was a joint team of BBC and Romanian news. Both of the presenters were male. Mihail had bronzed skin, dark eyes and white hair. He was in a dark green suit with a mossy coloured shirt and tie. The British guy was actually the presenter from the morning news and it was kind of nice to at least recognise him. He was blonde but going silver, had blue eyes and was in grey with a red tie.
"Miss Edris," he smiled warmly when he shook my hand. "I'm Colin Cox, nice to meet you."
"Please, call me Anwyn," I smiled. "This is Mircea."
"Your Highness," he said and bowed his head a little.
"Mister Cox," Mircea replied.
"Shall we get started?" Dragomir asked.
We all sat down.
"Ok, here are the revised questions," he said and gave some questions cards to the presenters. "The interview will be in German, but with Romanian pleasantries at the beginning and end. You have ten minutes from when you begin. Any instructions?" he asked the camera man.
"Just to not look at the cameras."
There were three in the room, one looking at the presenters, another looking at Mircea and me and the other was doing slow circles around us in a diagonal orbit. I was glad they were small enough to easily be ignored, but not too small to make me feel like flies were surrounding us.
"Very well. When you're ready."
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Hi!!! I hope you like this chapter! Please leave me a comment to let me know. I'd love to know what you think!
Any "The Russian Next Door" readers out there? If so, I've knocked up a rough draft of the moment Zoey and Grigory met and you can find it on my facebook page which is in the external link. It happens in true Zoey fashion i.e. unrefined clumsiness!