I get up and move over to sit next to her.
“Isabella…” I rasp.
She gives me a kind smile.
“It’s okay. There are just some things there are no words for. What can anyone say to my story?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the loss of both of them.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She gives me a gentle smile then it fades. “Who did he kill for you Tristan?”
Today as those words fall from her lips, I don’t see her as Mortimer Viggo’s daughter. I just see her as Isabella.
“My wife…” I answer and she brings the hand holding the flower to her chest.
“You were married?”
I nod. Sometimes it is hard to believe. I was the first one of my brothers to get married, and the first to become a widower. “Yeah. It was just for one day. We knew each other from when we were kids. Six years ago, it was her. Mortimer sent Vlad to kill her. Then eighteen months ago he ordered my father’s death.”
“I’m so sorry.”
We stare at each other and I can see she wants to say more to me but like me she can’t.
There are no words.
“I guess now we both know each other’s stories,” I state, and she nods.
“Yeah.”
I know why I was so drawn to her now. I was right.
The question of what to do next still hangs in the air. Setting her free is the obvious thing to do if she can’t help me, but I can’t do that yet. Not until we have a plan. She’s still leverage, even if she can’t help.
I don’t want to talk about that now though and spoil the connection we just formed.
Plan B is… well it looks like we’re gonna have to move to Plan B—letting Mortimer know we have his daughter and demanding he hand himself over.
It would surely start war. I need to think more about it. It’s a risky plan that requires deep thought.
I stand up. It’s time to go.
We talked and I don’t feel that angst anymore.
“I should go,” I say.
“Thanks for talking to me.”
“You too. The door’s open.”
Surprise brightens her eyes and gratitude.
“Thank you.”
I nod my head and leave.
I don’t have to say more. She still knows the only way off this island is if I say so, and we’re a long way from leaving yet.