“She’s right!” Fausta chimed once more, adding to Lanza’s turmoil. “Cinderella was a fool. She should have gone out into the world to find a man of the people, not some puppet prince, and enjoy a life away from a royal world. That’s what I’m planning to do.”
Lanza understood her sisters well. Twenty-five-year-old Donetta had no intention of getting married and her parents knew it. But the day would come when they would demand that she marry some prince they approved of.
She’d grown up wanting to be queen, with no man telling her what to do, but it would be impossible because of the succession law of their country that excluded women from ruling.
As for Fausta, their twenty-four-year-old sister, she’d dreamed of marrying a commoner and having a life like her close friends in the city. Fausta thought she was safe, but in the end their parents wouldn’t allow it and she’d end up marrying a prince they’d picked out for her.
That left Lanza as her parents’ hope for finding the perfect royal son-in-law. But Alberto’s death had rendered that null and void. Or so she’d thought!
“We know how upset you are. Would you rather be alone?”
Lanza turned to Fausta. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot to think about.”
“We’ll eat dinner and then come back up to talk. We’re here if you need us.” Donetta gave her a peck on the cheek before they left the apartment.
Lanza turned toward the fire once more. What in the name of heaven was she going to do? She loved her father. The last thing she’d ever want would be to disappoint him or her mother, or do something that could make his condition worse.
But to be asked to marry Stefano, who’d turned his back on everything in order to be free...
She remembered one weekend in August when Alberto had come to see her and she’d asked him why he sometimes seemed sad. Lanza wanted to know the truth so she could understand him better.
Alberto told her he missed his elder brother terribly since he no longer lived at the palace. They’d been incredibly close. A few days later Alberto sent her a letter with a picture of Stefano enclosed, looking gorgeous in a safari shirt. He’d been twenty-two in the photo, taken when he’d been working in Kenya.
“I love that smile of his, Lanza. He’s my idol and always has been. There are times when I miss him like crazy. After you and I are married, I hope he’ll come around more often. I’d give anything to see more of him.”
Lanza stoked the fire, recalling those words that had come straight from Alberto’s heart. He’d gotten his wish far too late. Stefano was back, and had proposed marriage to her.
Stefano was an important, sophisticated man of the world and had been intimately involved with various women over the years, according to the media, so there were no surprises. If Alberto had been with other women this past year, Lanza knew nothing about it, but assumed he’d had a few girlfriends in the past.
Marrying Stefano would mean having a normal intimate relationship that would produce a family in time. Her attraction for him had never changed, even though they hadn’t seen one another for a long time, but for some reason the thought of having relations with him made her nervous. She was an inexperienced and naive virgin. A shudder passed through her body.
Would she be a disappointment as his wife?
Could she bring herself to accept another royal proposal of marriage?
If she did, it might increase her father’s longevity and give him the help he needed to rule. She loved her father. Perish the thought if he died early because she’d refused to go through with this marriage. How would she be able to bear the burden of that knowledge?
Lanza was a mess.
Her sisters were right. Her favorite fairy tale had been about Cinderella, who’d met her heart’s desire at the ball and had lived happily-ever-after with her prince. But that was never going to happen to her now.
When Lanza finally turned away from the fire, she accepted the fact that she’d been a fool her whole life...
I’ll never know love or be in love.
On that note she left the apartment to find her parents and tell them she’d made her decision to accept Stefano’s proposal, but was stopped on her way out the door by her personal maid.
“This came for you personally by courier from the royal palace in Umbriano, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Serena.”
Lanza went back into the apartment to open it. Letters of condolences had poured into the palace for days through the post, but this had been hand delivered. There was no writing on the outside of the envelope. Who would be sending her a letter?
Curious, she opened it and found a brief missive.
Dear Lanza,
What you and I are about to do is unprecedented. I’ve already had to leave the country for Kenya, where I’ll probably be working for at least six weeks. After that I must fly directly to Australia, and from there Bulgaria.