Stefano supposed love did that to you. He wouldn’t know. For him, love was simply another arrow of pain to shoot into his heart. It was as if the universe enjoyed using him for target practice.
He bowed, short and sharp. ‘Your Highness.’
The words were hard to say when they had to be meant formally, rather than as a mere greeting between friends. He clenched his jaw almost hard enough to crack teeth. It all angered him. The familiar surroundings where he was now a stranger. The situation he’d created when he should have fought Alessio for what he believed was right, rather than taking matters into his own hands. Alessio too, for his silence.
There was no sign of emotion on his impassive face. He’d always been a master of control. Yet Stefano wanted him to shout and rage, as if this meant something. He wanted Alessio to care as much as he did about what had been lost.
‘Your Excellency. Thank you forfinallyresponding to my requests.’
Alessio didn’t invite him to sit, so Stefano remained standing. Once he would have sat regardless. ‘As I told your private secretary, I’ve recently been snowed in.’
A flicker of something passed across Alessio’s face, so fleeting Stefano couldn’t be sure what he’d seen.
‘I hope you found a way to stay warm.’
Stefano’s thoughts ran out of control with the memory of Lucy. How they’d fitted together in a way that had felt like for ever.
His breath hitched. He couldn’t think of her.Wouldn’t. Yet again she was distracting him from what he had to do.
He took a deep breath, and returned to the task he’d set himself in the months since he’d walked away from the palace. ‘I assume you didn’t summon me to discuss the weather?’
‘It seemed the polite way to begin, since you didn’t respond to any of my earlier attempts.’
Alessio’s gaze slid over the violin case Stefano held in his hands. His palm was itching to release it.
‘Please take a seat.’
‘I’d rather stand.’ Stefano placed the violin case in the middle of Alessio’s desk to rid himself of the instrument, which had taken on the feeling of a time bomb on its final countdown.
‘What’s this?’ asked Alessio.
‘This is what’s become of the Heart of Lasserno. A violin. A Stradivarius. Swapped for the ring in the war.’
He’d thought saying the words would change everything, but there was no lightning bolt of forgiveness from the heavens. All Stefano wanted to do was to snatch the violin and take it away from here, return it to the woman who made it sing.
Instead, he clasped his hands tight behind his back.
Alessio’s eyes flared wide, then his face settled into its cool, regal demeanour once more. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘From a violinist. Signorina Lucy Jamieson. Her grandfather brought it home after the war. It’s been with her family—’
Alessio’s eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. ‘Youtookher violin?’
Wait... What?Alessio knew of Lucy’s presence in his castle?
The surprise of that almost took his legs from underneath him. Stefano sank into the chair he’d earlier refused. ‘How did you—?’
‘I need to know everything that’s happening in this country, so I’ll never be surprised again.’ The corner of Alessio’s mouth curved in the merest of movements, but for him it was the equivalent of a sly smile. ‘Bruno proved very informative about “the angel in the castle who is too beautiful for a devil like Moretti.” They were his exact words, only partially said in jest.’
Lucyhadbeen an angel. One of redemption. In the dark and lonely nights since her departure he’d had long hours to think about her time in the castle. She’d been a woman alone, trapped with a stranger. He remembered her apprehension when she’d first arrived. Ofcourseshe wouldn’t have told him about the violin immediately. She couldn’t have known how he’d react in those early days, and his terrible behaviour in the end proved any lingering fears were well justified. It had been unfair to blame her when he hadn’t pursued the issue either.
In that way he wasn’t a devil, as Bruno had accused. He was a vampire who’d slowly tried to suck the life and the joy from her to make himself feel better. So he could forget about his own failings and relish her attention. Which was why he’d said nothing about the coronation ring.
Still, something didn’t make sense here. It was as though he’d entered a room halfway through a conversation and had to catch up on its meaning.
‘You’ve been...keeping an eye on me?’
‘Someone had to. You weren’t responding to my correspondence, and you looked like hell. Although at the time of Bruno’s report I did wonder whether you were auditioning a violinist for Lasserno’s orchestra in your role as patron. She would be a coup.’