A Princess Prays (3 page)

There was a fraught silence.

Then Attila, who had been so well educated, could not resist responding,

“What about Queen Elizabeth of England? Surely no one could say that she was not the equal, if not superior, to the Kings who preceded and succeeded her.”

She knew as she spoke that her stepmother had not even heard of Queen Elizabeth, or if she had, knew very little about her.

“We are not concerned in any way,” Queen Margit retorted sharply, “with what happens in England or for that matter in any other country.”

She pursed her lips again.

“It is Valdina we are talking about and if there is to be a woman on the throne, she must be experienced enough to be capable of ruling this beloved country of ours as well as your father has done.”

There was a sudden shining light in her eyes.

It told Attila all too clearly that her stepmother definitely intended to take her father's place.

She could almost imagine her informing the Prime Minister and all those concerned that she would make the perfect Queen for the country and that a young girl with no experience of the world would be a disaster.

Queen Margit broke the silence.

“I have now arranged,” she said firmly, “for Prince Otto of Dedregen to come here next week. He is anxious to meet you and I really think, dear child, you must not be surprised if he proposes marriage.”

She looked at Attila imperiously.

“It is an alliance that I am convinced would make your father very happy and I feel certain that is what you want him to be.”

She spoke in a most insistent manner, almost Attila thought as if she was trying to hypnotise her into obeying.

Slowly, and with a dignity that betrayed her Royal blood, Attila rose to her feet.

“I think, Stepmama, it is always a big mistake to anticipate what people will do or not do, especially when it concerns anything as serious as marriage.”

Her voice became very firm and determined.

“The one thing I can assure you is that I have no intention of marrying anyone I do not love and who does not love me for myself and not for my position in life.”

The Queen would have interrupted but she finished,

“That is all I have to say on this matter and I do
not
wish to discuss it again.”

She walked towards the door and had left the room before the Queen could answer her.

Outside in the hall Attila ran out of the front door and into the garden.

She was running away from what was frightening and disturbing her.

Her one idea at the moment was to be alone and she knew she must think clearly and decide what to do.

The sunshine was warm and the garden was ablaze with spring flowers, but Attila could think only of what her father had told her.

The future ahead now seemed to be covered by a growing darkness.

‘What can I do? What can I do,' she asked herself.

She walked on past the fountains and the water lily pond. There was a profusion of almond trees in blossom everywhere and she reached the shrubbery.

The twisting path under the trees made her slow her pace.

Now she began to feel she could breathe again.

She walked on until she came to an opening in the trees that looked down on a little valley.

At the end, its roof just peeping above the branches was a little Chapel.

Attila knew it so well.

It was a very ancient Chapel that had been built by one of her ancestors, who retired there after she was widowed and never entered the Palace again.

Now the Chapel and the adjoining room were used by Father Jozsef.

He was a very old Priest whom she had known and loved ever since she was a small child and he had prepared her for Confirmation.

Because she had been busy with her father and with her tutors, she had not seen Father Jozsef for some time.

She thought now he was the one person who would understand the predicament she was in.

There was a twisting path beneath the trees leading down to the valley and when she reached the Chapel, she saw that the flowers were in bloom all around it.

She knew that they had always been the delight of Father Jozsef and he tended to them as if they were his children.

She went first into the Chapel, which was small but exquisite with its old carvings and beautiful stained-glass windows.

Father Jozsef was not present, but when she went round the back of the Chapel, she found him, as she might have expected, weeding his garden.

The Father was wearing an ancient cassock and his white hair was blowing a little in the breeze.

Although he was nearly eighty years of age, he still remained a handsome and prepossessing figure and Attila always believed it was his personality rather than his looks that captivated all who met him.

She stood watching him for a few moments before he turned round as if he instinctively sensed her presence.

He gave a cry of delight, threw down his trowel and walked towards her holding out his hands.

“My child, my beloved Princess, how glad I am to see you!” he exclaimed.

“And I to see you. You must forgive me, Father Jozsef, if I have neglected you lately, but Papa is not well and I spend every moment I can with him.”

“I have heard your father is in ill health and I have been praying for him, as I know you would have expected me to do.”

“He needs your prayers badly and I, Father, need your help.”

He smiled at her.

“Let us sit down,” he suggested.

They walked towards a wooden seat on one side of his garden.

They sat down and Father Jozsef enquired,

“Tell me what is worrying you. You know, if it is at all possible with God's help, I will solve your problem for you.”

Attila smiled.

“I knew you would say that to me, Father, and as I am worried, very very worried, I have come to you as I have done ever since I could toddle.”

“I know and a very pretty little toddler you were. As you know, Attila, I have loved you as if you were my own daughter ever since you were born.”

Attila put out her hand and slipped it into his.

“Help me,” she pleaded, “because I not only need it badly, but I am so very frightened.”

“I am listening, my child.”

Attila told him what she had overheard outside her father's door and what the King had said to her.

Next she repeated her stepmother's words and saw his lips tighten.

“I have just left my Stepmama,” she finished, “and instinctively without really thinking about it I came straight to you.”

“It was God who directed you knowing it was the most sensible thing you could do, my child.”

“I am so so terrified, Father. Terrified that she will force Papa to agree to my marriage and if he begs me to do it for his sake, it will be very hard for me to refuse.”

Father Jozsef nodded as if he agreed this was likely to happen.

Then he said firmly,

“There is one thing I am completely sure about and it is that under no circumstances must you marry His Royal Highness Prince Otto.”

“You have heard about him?” asked Attila.

“A great deal and I can only say that it is impossible for you, pure innocent and unspoilt as you are, to marry such a man.”

“Then what can I do? Stepmama wishes to be rid of me and she will somehow contrive, just as she has done before, to make Papa agree.”

She paused for a moment.

“And I can tell you about enumerable times when against his better inclination, dear Papa has agreed simply because it is easier than opposing her.”

Father Jozsef did not speak and Attila carried on,

“I am convinced in my own mind that she wants to rule when Papa dies, as if she was Queen Dorottya.”

“It would not surprise me,” remarked Father Jozsef.

“If she really cared for others, I would not mind, but she is not in any way interested in anyone but herself even though she pretends to be.”

She sighed.

“When the servants are ill she is only angry because it is inconvenient. If she hears of any trouble in the City or anywhere else in Valdina, she will not listen.”

She made a gesture of helplessness with her hands.

“She has been heard to say when someone asks for help, ‘you got yourself into this mess, you had better find your way out of it. It is not
my
business'.”

“I don't think,” reflected Father Jozsef, “that the Government or the people of Valdina would allow Queen Margit to take the throne, but of course if you were married and lived elsewhere, there would in fact be no one else who had any right to it.”

Attila sighed again.

“If only I had a brother or been born a boy!”

Father Jozsef smiled.

“I think you will find that there are a great number of men who are pleased you are a woman. Is there no man in your life for whom you have any affection?”

“Of course not. I never meet any young men. My Stepmama will only entertain those who are distinguished and important and this means they are usually as old as Papa. Even Prince Otto, whom I believe is under thirty, would never be invited to the Palace unless he was the heir to a throne.”

“It was very different when your dear mother was alive. Then she received everyone and the people loved her because they knew she loved them.”

“I have missed her more than I can ever say,” Attila sighed, “and I miss her so much now. Oh, Father Jozsef,
you
are the only person who can help me.”

Father Jozsef rose to his feet.

“I am going to pray that I shall give my beloved little Princess the right advice. Wait for me here and listen to the song of the birds and watch the butterflies. I will not be long.”

He turned as he spoke and walked away and Attila knew he would go into the Chapel to kneel in front of the altar and wait for God to give him his instructions.

It was what he had done ever since she had known him as a child.

She had asked him once when she was very small,

“Does God talk to you, Father? Can you hear Him when He is so high up in Heaven?”

“God always speaks to us,” Father Jozsef had told her, “through our souls and our brains.”

“How does He do that?” Attila had asked.

“You will learn when you are older, my child, that when you close your eyes and ask God to help you, you need to wait for a few minutes. Then suddenly the answer is there in your mind. It is just as if you had read it in a book or heard someone say it to you.”

At the time, Attila, who had only been five years old, clasped her hands together.

“I will listen very carefully,” she enthused. “I will concentrate and hear the answer in my forehead.”

“That is right, but you must not be too disappointed if your answer does not arrive immediately. God always knows what is best for you and also when it is best for you to have it.”

Looking back over the years Attila could remember praying in the little Chapel as well as beside her bed before she climbed into it. She prayed at night when she woke up and it was dark.

Now she thought about it there always seemed to be an answer sooner rather than later to whichever question she had posed.

She looked up at the sky.

‘
Please
God give me an answer now,' she prayed.

Then as she glanced at the Chapel she saw Father Jozsef coming towards her.

CHAPTER TWO

Father Jozsef sat down beside Attila on the wooden seat and for a moment he did not speak and Attila looked at him enquiringly.

Then he said,

“I have a suggestion to make to you, which may at first seem rather strange, but it is one I want you to hear.”

“Then of course I am listening, Father.”

“You have told me your father is ill,” Father Jozsef began, “but he is still a young man. I cannot believe it is impossible for him to be cured, and as you well know he is needed desperately here in Valdina.”

“I am certain it would be just terrible without him,” Attila murmured.

She was thinking again of her stepmother and how she would try to force herself upon the throne.

“What I am suggesting,” Father Jozsef continued, “is that you and I should go on a pilgrimage.”

Attila looked at him wide-eyed.

“
A pilgrimage
!” she exclaimed.

“You have heard me talk of St. Janos?”

“Yes, of course, he is the Saint whose shrine is on the top of one of the mountains where our country borders with Hungary.”

“The Hungarians worship him as their own Saint,” Father Jozsef told her, “but he is also ours.”

“And you want me to go on a pilgrimage to him?”

She could hardly believe that was what he meant.

He nodded.

“I will come with you and we will ask St. Janos not only if it is God's will to save your father's life, but also to solve your own problem.”

He smiled before he added,

“You do know that St. Janos is really the God of Love?”

Attila knew this only too well as Father Jozsef had told her the story first when she was very small and he had repeated it over the years.

She thought now she knew it word for word.

St. Janos at one time had been the Ruling Prince of a country which did not now exist and he was a good and kind Ruler. At the same time he had a great number of enemies he needed to keep at bay.

As he grew older he wanted to marry and he looked at the countries surrounding him for a beautiful Princess.

However, those he met did not impress him nor did he fall in love.

Then one day he was riding beside the river and as he sat down by the water he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever imagined.

He spoke briefly to her and the moment they looked into the other's eyes they both knew they belonged to each other.

It was something that they must have done in many lives before.

It was love at first sight and the Prince became determined she should be his wife.