Adelaide lifted up a purple hooded cape trimmed with mangy fur and suddenly remembered her father’s gift. “What about my Russian sable coat?”
“That’s right, I checked it for her,” Anton told the chief.
“I will take care of it.” He placed a hand on Anton’s shoulder. “Get her out of here. Quickly und quietly.”
The chief left and Anton and Adelaide outfitted themselves in strange ensembles. They made their exit through the quiet main hall. “I don’t think anyone noticed us,” Adelaide whispered as they hurried out to his Land Rover.
“We’ll take a circuitous route just in case.” He started the engine. Before long, they were cruising through the countryside without a single car in sight.
“So, that was supposed to be a Christmas celebration?” Adelaide just shook her head. “No wonder the king doesn’t approve.”
“It’s not my cup of tea, that’s for sure. And when that Krampus grabbed you like that.” He blew out a long breath. “I almost wished for Herr Baumann’s new hunting rifle, I was that angry.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the image of Anton, dressed in a tuxedo, aiming a hunting rifle at the crazy Krampus. “Poor Hugo. I think he was in over his head.”
“Hopefully the police will knock some sense into him.”
“I know the police chief wants me to stay at the farmhouse until he thinks it’s safe, but what about my father? He expected me to visit with him tomorrow.”
“We can schedule a phone call. Maybe you can do Facetime or Zoom.”
“Does the king know how to do that?” she asked.
“He has people to help him.”
“Yes, of course.” She nodded. “I just don’t want him to worry about me.” But it was more than that. It was hard to process completely, but she was feeling more drawn into her father’s quirky little kingdom. She cared more about its future and its citizens than she had anticipated. And if she were being completely honest, she cared about Anton too.
The Baumanns were happy to have Adelaide and Anton over for Saint Nicholas Day. With children and grandchildren coming for a late lunch and celebration, there was much to be done, and Adelaide was happy to help out. In the morning, Frau Baumann put her to work making Vanillekipferl, which were crescent-shaped cookies with lots of vanilla and powdered sugar. They practically melted in her mouth.
“Saint Nicholas Day began last night for kinder,” Frau Baumann told her. “But we stretch it out with our own traditions.” Frau Baumann stirred in the ingredients for the mulled wine that would simmer on the stove. “We like our family to be here. With us. For a happy daytime party. Not like your Krampus party last night.” She frowned with disapproval, most likely remembering what little they’d shared about last night’s fiasco. “What happened at the palace. Not good.”
“No, it was not good. I’m so grateful you don’t mind us staying with you awhile longer. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Oh, you are very welcome. We not always have royalty here. But when we do, we like it.” Her smile widened as she sampled the mulled wine.
Adelaide gazed out the window toward the nearby hillside where Herr Baumann had taken Anton hunting earlier that morning. She’d never had any experience with hunters, but seeing the two men loaded up with rifles and all, well, she just hoped they’d be safe. “The sky is so dark and gray,” she said to her hostess.
“Ja, ja. They say snow coming.”
“Will that trouble the hunters?”
“Oh, nein. Snow is good for hunting. Quiet . . . and good tracks to follow.”
“Right. It must be beautiful out here when it snows.”
“Oh, ja, it is. White and clean. I love first snow.”
After finishing in the kitchen, Adelaide helped Frau Baumann wrap up little treats and prizes for the children. It was their tradition to hide them around the house, as well as to tie some onto the Christmas tree.
“We tell the kinder, Saint Nicholas, he come here too. Not only their house.” She chuckled. “Und not that horrid old Krampus. We do not let him in.”
“Your Saint Nicholas is like our Santa Claus.” Adelaide straightened the bow on one of the gifts. “Only Santa Claus makes his arrival on Christmas Eve, when children are sleeping. But the tradition is similar. Children are taught to be good so Santa will bring them something.”
“Ja. Good things for good kinder. Und we have only good kinder in our family.” She laughed heartily. “So we say.”
At eleven o’clock, the Baumanns’ phone rang. Anton and Albert had prearranged a call from the king, and Adelaide had a nice long conversation with her father. She felt somewhat relieved that he’d been filled in on some of last night’s activities. She didn’t like the idea of the king being completely in the dark. But at the same time, she didn’t want to say too much.
“Albert assures me that this business will soon be wrapped up,” he finally said in a weary tone. “And you will come back to the palace. The police chief says by the end of the week.”
She wanted to inquire about Queen Johanna and Prince Georg, probably more out of curiosity than concern. She really wanted to ask about Prince Farcus, but unsure of how much the king knew about his brother, she kept quiet to avoid troubling him.
“I hope he’s right about the weekend,” she said. “But don’t worry about me. I am staying in a lovely farmhouse.” She told him about what they’d been baking and doing that morning. “I’m having a delightful time, but I do miss you.”
“I miss you too, mein lieber.”
“Yes. And you are always in my prayers, Father.”
“And you in mine. Please, do not worry. God will work out his plans in his time.”
She liked that. “God’s plan in God’s time,” she echoed. “I’ll hang on to that thought. Thank you.”
There was a long pause and then he spoke in a slightly choked voice. “I love you, mein leiber. Whatever happens, I need you to know that. I love you. Your visit has brought me more happiness than I ever believed possible. I am sorry for the years we missed, but God was good to bring you to me when he did.”
She felt a lump in her throat. “I love you too, Father. Being with you has made me incredibly happy too. I never imagined what it would feel like to have a father. Thank you for being such a good one.”
“If I am good, God be praised.” He coughed. “And God be with you, mein leiber. Always.”
“God be with you too. Always.” She heard a hoarse whisper of adieu, and the click of the phone being hung up. Blinking back tears, she replaced the receiver on the farm’s old-fashioned phone and excused herself to her room.
The spicy, sweet aroma of mulled wine wafted up the stairs as the Baumanns’ family members began to fill the house with their laughter and merriment down below. Adelaide knew it was time to set aside her concerns for her father and join the party below. After being introduced to everyone, she took a seat by the fire and watched as the grandchildren began their hunt for the Saint Nicholas treats.
“The hunters are not back yet,” Frau Baumann quietly told Adelaide.