Stefan nods thoughtfully. “Do you know, Eva has always preferred the castle to anywhere else. Even as a child, she would spend hours in the library or her father’s study rather than playing outside.” He glances at me sideways. “I used to worry she was too serious for her own good.”
There’s something in his tone—affection mixed with concern, maybe even a hint of criticism. It makes me curious despite myself.
“She must have seemed mature for her age,” I say carefully.
“Oh, she was. Brilliant, of course. Zoltan saw that early and made sure she was educated in everything—languages, politics, strategy. But perhaps he should have…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Forgive me. I should not speak ill of the dead, and my own son is hardly a paragon of filial piety.”
“Your son?”
“I believe you met him in Paris,” Stefan sighs. “Or at least, he told me that he met you. Dimitri?”
“Oh!” I say, remembering that strangely charming cousin of Eva’s. “Of course. Yes, I did. He was…nice.”
Stefan gives a smile that’s more of a grimace. “Yes,” he says. “He can give the impression of being nice when he chooses to.”
I can see the resemblance now, when I remember Eva’s cousin Dimi. The same debonair smile and easy warmth. It seems like one side of the Novak family got all the charm and the other…
Well, I suppose the other side has to run a criminal empire. It can’t be much fun.
When we reach the cemetery, I follow Stefan to the Novak family crypt. He stops before it and bows his head, his lips moving in what I assume is a prayer.
I stand quietly beside him, not wanting to intrude on his grief. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the wind rustling through the trees and the distant sound of church bells from the village below.
“My brother was both feared and loved,” Stefan says finally, his voice soft. “The people respected him because he was strong, but they also knew he cared for them. Their children were fed, their livelihoods were protected, their elderly were looked after.”
“Eva does those things too,” I point out. “She sends money down to take care of things in the village.”
At least I think she does, if what she said the other day was actually true, that she’s improving the school.
Stefan’s smile is sad. “Of course she does. But she doesn’t go down himself to see the people firsthand. To hear their problems. She…tends to see money as the salve for all ills.”
That strikes me as too true to deny. If there’s one thing Eva is good at, it’s throwing money at problems until they give under the weight of it and resolve in her favor.
“Eva is feared, but not loved,” Stefan goes on, as we begin walking back to the cemetery gates. “She maintains order, but she doesn’t inspire loyalty the way Zoltan did.” He glances at me, his eyes serious. They’re the same color as Eva’s. “Sometimes I worry about her.”
The words hit me wrong, making my cheeks warm. “Eva is the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
“That’s the problem,” Stefan sighs, and there’s something in his voice that makes me uncomfortable. “Strength alone is not enough. The Consortium will demand more from her than even Zoltan could give, simply because sheisa woman. And leadership requires flexibility. Adaptability. The ability to inspire rather than simply command.”
I want to argue, to defend Eva, but something in Stefan’s tone gives me pause. And besides all that, I don’t understand?—
“You’re wondering why I’m telling you all this,” Stefan says with a rueful smile.
“I am,” I admit. “I don’t really know anything much about the Consortium. Just that some of the work they do is…” I trail off, not wanting to even name it.
Stefan just nods. “Eva has become distracted recently. But she won’t listen to me. You, on the other hand…” He gives an apologetic laugh. “Well. I don’t want to overstep.”
My head whirls. “I don’t think Eva has any interest in whatIhave to say about the business,” I say at last. “And I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s smart and capable and?—”
“And isolated,” Stefan interrupts gently. “She trusts no one. That kind of loneliness makes a person brittle, Robin. Eventually, they break.”
The words sting because there’s truth in them. I’ve seen Eva’s isolation, felt the walls she keeps between herself and the world. But I’ve also seen her vulnerability, the way she looks when she thinks no one is watching.
“People can change,” I insist.
Stefan’s smile is enigmatic. “Perhaps. Come, let’s go get some lunch.”
The village tavern is dimly lit and warm, and just like when I came here with Eva and Leon, the smell of stew and fresh bread fills the air, making my stomach rumble. A few villagers look up as we enter, their faces lighting up when they see me.
