LITMIR.BIZ

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life itself, and he found his emotions tangling a bit. Could he really feel pity for a man who had helped ruin his family?

      No. That couldn’t happen.

      Still, an element confused the issue. And to be this close to someone who had lived with and worked with his parents gave him a special sense of his own history. He couldn’t deny that.

      And there was something else, a certain primal longing that he couldn’t control. He’d had it ever since that day twenty-five years ago when he’d been rushed out of the burning castle, and he had forever lost his parents. He’d grown up with all the privileges of his class: the schools, the high life, the international relationships. But he would have thrown it all out if that could have bought him a real, loving family—the kind you saw in movies, the kind you dreamed about in the middle of the night. Instead, he had this empty ache in his heart.

      And that made watching Pellea and her father all the more effective. From his position in the entryway, he could see her bending lovingly over her father and dropping a kiss on his forehead. She talked softly to him, wiping his forehead with a cool, damp cloth, straightening his covers, plumping his pillow. The love she had for the man radiated from her every move. And he felt very similarly. She was obviously a brilliant bit of sun in his rather dark life.

      “How are you feeling?” she asked.

      “Much better now that you’re here, my dear.”

      “I’m only here for a moment. I must get back. The masked ball is tonight.”

      “Ah, yes.” He took hold of her hand. “So tonight you and Leonardo will announce your engagement?”

      “Yes. Leonardo is prepared.”

      “What a relief to have this coming so quickly. To be able to see you protected before I go…”

      “Don’t talk about going.”

      “We all have to do it, my dear. My time has come.”

      Pellea made a dove-like noise and bent down to kiss his cheek. “No. You just need to get out more. See some people.” Rising a bit, she had a thought. “I know. I’ll have the nurse bring you to the ball so that you can see for yourself….”

      “Hush, Pellea,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m comfortable here and I’m too weak to leave this bed.”

      Reluctantly, she nodded. She’d known he would say that, but she’d hoped he might change his mind and try to take a step back into the world. A deep, abiding sadness settled into her soul as she faced the fact that he wasn’t even tempted to try. He was preparing for the end, and nothing she said or did would change that. Tears threatened and she forced them back. She would have to save her grieving for another time.

      Right now, she had another goal in mind. She was hoping to prove something to Monte, and she was gambling that her father would respond in the tone and tenor that she’d heard from him so often before. If he went in a different direction, there was no telling what might happen. Glancing back at where Monte stood in the shadows, she made her decision. She was going to risk it—her leap of faith.

      “Father, do you ever think of the past? About how we got here and why we are the way we are?”

      He coughed and nodded. “I think of very little else these days.”

      “Do you think about the night the castle burned?”

      “That was before you were born.”

      “Yes. But I feel as though that night molded my life in many ways.”

      He grasped her hand as though to make her stop it. “But why? It had nothing to do with you.”

      “But it was such a terrible way to start a new regime, the regime I’ve lived under all my life.”

      “Ugly things always happen in war.” He turned his face away as though he didn’t want to talk about it. “These things can’t be helped.”

      She could feel Monte’s anger beginning to simmer even though she didn’t look at him. She hesitated. If her father wasn’t going to express his remorse, she might only be doing damage by making him talk. Could Monte control his emotions? Was it worth it to push this further?

      She had to try. She leaned forward.

      “But, Father, you always say so many mistakes were made.”

      “Mistakes are human. That is just the way it is.”

      Monte made a sound that was very close to a growl. She shook her head, still unwilling to look his way, but ready to give up. What she’d hoped for just wasn’t going to happen.

      “All right, Father,” she began, straightening and preparing to get Monte out of here before he did something ugly.

      But suddenly her father was speaking again. “The burning of the castle was a terrible thing,” he was saying, though he was speaking so softly she wondered if Monte could hear him. “And the assassination of the king and queen was even worse.”

      Relief bloomed in her chest. “What happened?” she prompted him. “How did it get so out of control?”

      “You can go into a war with all sorts of lofty ambitions, but once the fuse is lit, the fire can be uncontrollable. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Many of us were sick at heart for years afterwards. I still think of it with pain and deep, deep regret.”

      This was more like it. She only hoped Monte could hear it and that he was taking it as a sincere recollection, not a rationalization. She laced her fingers with her father’s long, trembling ones.

      “Tell me again, why did you sign on with the rebels?”

      “I was very callow and I felt the DeAngelis family had grown arrogant with too much power. They were rejecting all forms of modernization. Something was needed to shake the country up. We were impatient. We thought something had to be done.”

      “And now?”

      “Now I think that we should have moved more slowly, attempted dialogue instead of attack.”

      “So you regret how things developed?”

      “I regret it deeply.”

      She glanced back at Monte. His face looked like a storm cloud. Wasn’t he getting it? Didn’t he see how her father had suffered as well? Maybe not. Maybe she was tilting at windmills. She turned back to her father and asked a question for herself.

      “Then why do you want me to marry Leonardo and just perpetuate this regime?”

      Her father coughed again and held a handkerchief to his lips. “He’ll be better than his father. He has some good ideas. And your influence on him will work wonders.” He managed a weak smile for his beloved daughter. “Once you are married to Leonardo, it will be much more difficult for anyone to hurt you.”

      She smiled down at him and blotted his forehead with the damp cloth. He wouldn’t be so sure of that if he knew that at this very moment, danger lurked around her on all sides. Better he should never know that she was carrying Monte’s child.

      “I must go, Father. I’ve got to prepare for the ball.”

      “Yes. Go, my darling. Have a wonderful time.”

      “I’ll be back in the morning to tell you all about it,” she promised as she rose from his side.

      She hurried toward the door, jerking her head at Monte to follow. She didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed his hatred for her father was too strong for him to see what a dear and wonderful man he really was. Well, so be it. She’d done her best to show him the truth. You could lead a horse to water and all that.

      But they were late. She had a path laid out and a routine, and now she knew she was venturing out into the unknown. At her usual time, she never met anyone in the halls. Now—who knew?

      “We

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