“Why do you wish to see the Princess?” she asked evasively.
“She is at home?” the gentleman asked.
She knew by the expression on his face and the note in his voice that he had been worried in case they had come to the wrong address.
With difficulty Ilona remembered her manners.
“Will you please come in, Messieurs?”
She led them into the small Salon where her mother’s few treasures which she had inherited from her parents, were arranged against the grey panelled walls and the Louis XVI furniture was covered in a faded blue brocade.
Despite the fact that she had opened the door herself there was something in her bearing which told the gentlemen who she was.
“You are Her Royal Highness?” one of them asked.
“I am!” Ilona had replied and knew as she spoke that a new chapter in her life
