When Leon knocks on my study door an hour later, I’m still just staring at the reports spread across my desk. “Come in.”
“You told me you were going to make a decision on the Swiss?” His voice carries the patient tone of a man who’s weathered decades of my mercurial moods.
“Get me a report on the village school,” I say. I need to feel like I’ve dealt with that once and for all, so I can clear my mind to make a decision about the wretched Swiss. “Find out what it needs. What it would cost to…improve it.”
Silence stretches between us. When I finally look up, Leon is regarding me closely. The corner of his mouth twitches in what could be a smirk, if he didn’t know better than to smirk at me.
“What?” I demand.
“Nothing,” he says, but the not-smirk lingers. “I’ll have the report on your desk by tomorrow morning.” He turns to leave, but pauses at the door. “She’s good for you,” he says quietly.
I bristle. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you don’t.” Leon’s tone is dry as desert sand. “Will that be all?”
I wave him away with more force than necessary, but he’s already closing the door behind him with that infuriatingknowingexpression.
Alone again, I turn back to my work, but the reports on my desk might as well be blank pages. All I can think about is Robin’s smile when the villagers greeted her. The way she spoke about children deserving better. The casual assumption that someone should care about paint and playgrounds simply because theycould.
My hand moves automatically, hovering over the buttons that will bring up the cameras. Allow me to find Robin.
To spy on her.
I snatch my hand back, then go to sit by the fire instead, settling deep into my chair. Outside, rain begins to patter against the windows, the promised storm finally arriving to wash the mountains clean.
Robin Rivers, I think, staring at my reflection in the dark glass. What are youdoingto me?
I’m not supposed to worry about village schools or smile at children or care what ordinary people think of me beyond the healthy fear that keeps them in line.
Yes, I have my responsibilities to the villagers—I have a duty to protect them—but that’s for times ofwar. Our way of life is secure for the moment. The mountains are peaceful. I’ve executed my responsibilities to make sure thingsstaythat way. I don’t owe them more than that.
But with Robin’s voice echoing in my memory, I can’t help wondering if she’s right. If showing kindness isn’t the weakness I’ve always despised it as.
Maybe it’s a strength.
The thought terrifies me. Because if Robin is right about this—about the villagers, about caring, about the possibility of connection beyond fear and power—then what else might she be right about?
What else might I have beenwrongabout all these years?
Somewhere in the castle, Robin might be wandering, or sleeping, or reading by fire, her hair catching the golden glow of the flames, even the thought of her gentle presence a warmth against the cold stone walls.
Mine.
But this time my possessive certainty comes with something else, something that feels a little too much like hope.
And hope, I’ve learned the hard way, is the most deceptive emotion of all.
Chapter 11
Robin
Seven days into my arrival, I’ve finally grown accustomed to Castle Blacklake again. I walk the halls with more confidence than when I first arrived. The stone floors don’t seem so forbidding anymore and the huge windows don’t make me feel quite so small. After witnessing Eva’s grief at her father’s crypt, after seeing her humanity the way I did during my previous visit, the gothic fortress feels less like a prison and more like…well, certainly nothome, but something approaching familiar.
Every day I’ve called Adrian, and every day he’s told me joyfully that Maisie is gaining strength. The change is so rapid he can hardly believe it, but when he switched to a video call so I could see for myself, I had to believe him.
It made my heart ache painfully to see them, but it was better thannotseeing them. Alicia and Dane are doing well, too, and every time I talk to them I feel the fiery certainty that I’ve done the right thing. When I get back—when I access the five million Eva put into trust for me—or even if Eva kicks me out again and pays me some bitchy pro-rata rate like last time?—
It will still be life-changing. And I will be able to do right by my family, once and for all. Buy a house. New furniture. All the clothes they could possibly need. Send Adrian to college.
