This was not a subject he’d ever discussed with anyone outside of his family. His father’s infidelities were well documented, but his violence...that was something they’d all closed ranks on. Being the sons of such a vicious, narcissistic man was not something any of the brothers had found it easy to reconcile themselves with.
‘I’m sorry,’ Amy said, shaking her head slowly as if trying to take in his words. ‘Did you know it was going on? The violence, I mean?’
‘Only on an instinctual level. It was only ever a feeling.’
‘How was your relationship with your father?’ she asked quietly.
He grimaced as decades-old memories flooded him. ‘I was the apple of his eye. He adored me, to the point that he excluded my brothers. It felt good, being the “special” one, but I also felt much guilt about it too. He was cruel—especially to Theseus. My mother struggled to make him treat us all fairly.’
Amy didn’t say anything, just stared at him with haunted eyes.
‘I was a child when they died. My memories are tainted by everything I learned after he’d gone, but I remember the looks he would give my mother when she stood up for Theseus or made a pointed remark about his other women. I would feel sick with worry for her, but he was always careful to make sure I was out of sight and earshot before hitting her. It got worse once I left for boarding school,’ he continued. ‘With me gone, he didn’t have to hide it any more.’
‘You surely don’t blame yourself for that?’
‘Not any more. But I did when I first learned the truth.’ He met her gaze. ‘It took me a long time to truly believe I couldn’t have stopped him even if I had known. But, like you when your life fell apart, I was a child. Talos tried to stop it—that last day, before my parents were driven to the Greek Embassy and their car crashed, Talos was there, right in the middle of it. He got hurt himself in the crossfire.’
‘Oh, the poor boy. That must have been horrendous for him.’
‘It screwed up his ideas of marriage. He has no intention of ever marrying.’
‘Not an option for you,’ she said softly.
‘No.’ He shook his head for emphasis. ‘Nor for Theseus. The security of our family and our island rests in our hands. But I swear this now—my parents’ marriage will not be mine.’
‘What if it was an option?’ she asked suddenly, straightening. ‘What if you’d been born an ordinary person? Who would you be now?’
‘I don’t know.’ And he didn’t. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever thought about.’
‘Really?’
‘Theseus spent most of his life fighting his birthright and all it brought him was misery. Why rail against something you have no control over? I had no control over my conception, just as I had no control over my parents’ marriage or their deaths. My destiny is what it is, and I’ve always known and accepted that. I am who I am and I’m comfortable with that.’
It was only in recent weeks that the destiny he’d always taken for granted had gained a more acrid tang.
During their conversation Amy had moved fully back onto the bed and was now facing him, hugging her knees. Reaching forward, he took her left foot into his hands and gently tugged at it so it rested on his lap.
A strange cathartic sensation blew through him, and with it a sense of release. His father’s violence and complete disrespect to his mother were things that he’d locked away inside, not wanting to give voice to the despicable actions he and his brothers felt tainted by. But Amy was the last person who would judge a child for the sins of its parents. In that respect they shared something no other could understand.
‘The main reason I selected Catalina is because she has no illusions about what our marriage will be,’ he said, massaging Amy’s foot. ‘She has been groomed from birth to marry someone of equal stature. I will be King, but I will never be like my father. Marrying Catalina guarantees that she will never expect more than I can give.’
‘But your mother was a princess before she married your father.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Their marriage was arranged before she could walk. She grew up knowing she would marry my father and she built an ideal in her head of what their marriage would be like. She loved him all her life and, God help her, she was doomed to disappointment. The only person my father loved was himself. Catalina doesn’t love me any more than I love her. There will be no jealousy. She has no expectations of fidelity.’
‘Has she said that?’ Amy asked doubtfully.
‘Her only expectation is that I be respectful to her and discreet, and that is something I will always be. Whatever happens in the future, I will never inflict on her or on anyone the pain my father inflicted on my mother.’