She let it go, understanding the undercurrent of sentiments charging between them. ‘Let’s go make lunch. I’ll film my segment after that.’
He nodded. Setting the camera aside, he braced his hands on the arms of her chair, bent low until his mouth brushed her ear. ‘Then I put the rightful look back on your face.’
Lunch was a simple but sumptuous meal of prime beef sandwich and salad, washed down with a small glass of fruity Chianti.
Once they’d polished that off, she fetched the camera, and they stepped onto the snow-laden porch. The brisk air was refreshing. Lotte, stingingly aware as Valenti leaned against the wooden wall watching, extolled the virtues of her surroundings, then ended with her usual affirmation. After taking a few shots of the landscape, they returned indoors.
She watched him place the camera on the nearby shelf. Then as he was heading back to her, she cleared her throat and asked the question that, through a combination of outright denial, active dissuasion and consideration for others’ grief, she’d waited a decade to be answered.
‘What happened the day my sister died?’
He froze, the cold, stony façade she knew far too well sliding into place between one breath and the next. But in the split second before it descended and slammed into place, she caught a glimpse of desolation so bleak, it shredded her insides.
‘Why do you want to put yourself through that,litla?’ he asked an eternity later.
She exhaled shakily. ‘Why does anyone search for answers to painful questions? To seek enlightenment and sometimes, to search for closure.’
He hadn’t taken a visible breath since she posed her question, and he remained statue still at her answer. ‘A third option is to let the past be. Not to rake over painful ground.’ A ripple travelled through his set jaw when he finally moved, approached where she’d perched on the sofa, and crouched before her, determination to deny blazing through his eyes. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, Lotte. Your sister is gone—’
‘I’m well aware of that,’ she interjected firmly, a shroud of sadness and loss wrapping around her heart. For the sister she’d known far too fleetingly and in an almost absentee manner, even though Helga had stepped into the role of parent after theirs had perished in an avalanche when Lotte was only nine. ‘And I disagree that ignorance is bliss in this case. It’s far from it. And since Gunnar refuses to talk about it and you’re the only other one who knows the true facts…’ She trailed to a stop when his face set tighter, his whole body bristling with repudiation.
She held her breath, expecting him to stalk away to the window or even to his office. Hurt and disappointment tore through when he rose from his crouch, but to her surprise, he took the seat beside her, his focus pinned to the flames dancing in the hearth as he rested his elbows on his knees.
He exhaled, but his tension only continued to build. ‘You know my father is unwell,sí?’
She nodded.
‘His health condition wasn’t as serious back then, but I think he knew she was a skilled surgeon to keep around.’ A smile ghosted over his mouth but dissolved under solemn memory. ‘We became friends. And when my father learned she was heading into dangerous territory for a humanitarian assignment, he asked me to accompany her, ensure her safety.’ His jaw clenched. ‘Sending a leading surgeon into a volatile zone, regardless of the reasoning behind it was never a good starting point. No matter the assurances anyone could provide,’ he stated with a harsh edge to his voice.
Lotte nodded but remained silent. She’d clipped and kept every article she could find about her famous big sister, the ultra-talented cardiothoracic residents who broke all boundaries and put Reykland on the map. She’d been the envy of thousands in her field and several more grateful patients worldwide who’d benefited from her ingenuity.
‘Why did she insist? I’m assuming she’s the one who insisted on going?’
Valenti sent her a wry look before returning his gaze to the fire. ‘Because intransigence runs in the family,’ he delivered coolly, despite the raging storm beneath his tone. ‘I was left in no doubt that whether I was on board or not, she would do as she pleased.’
A sharper austerity masked his face and to her surprise, he turned away for several seconds before he exhaled again. Had she not witnessed it, Lotte wouldn’t have believed Prince Valenti Domene would ever need a moment to collect himself.
‘How did you two meet in the first place?’ she prodded in a hushed tone, partly because she didn’t want her forthrightness to halt the flow of information he seemed staggeringly inclined to grant her. Partly because she would’ve been wholly insensitive to ignore the gravity of the subject matter.
One even her brother point-blank refused to discuss. Leaving her no choice but to push for it with Valenti.
‘We first met in Cartana when she visited as part of a medical delegation invited by my father, I suspect because he was showing early signs of the condition he has now.’
She’d never met the old King or even Azar, Valenti’s older brother and the new King, his determination to keep her apart from his true family an act that still upset her more than she was willing to admit. It was partly why she’d presented herself at the Palacio Domene on her nineteenth birthday, only to be turned away in callous rejection.
She’d thought she’d learned her lesson then. Apparently not, because here she was prying open subjects that should be left alone.
But she was my sister, she insisted to herself.I have the right.
She refocused when he nodded abruptly. ‘We discovered recently that he’s been battling heart disease but chose to keep that to himself.’
‘How bad it is?’ she whispered.
Another tightening of his features. ‘Bad,’ he bit out without elaborating.
She chose not to press. Not when her insides still churned at the original subject.
Helga would be the same age as Valenti. Had the old King been attempting a matchmaking? In her weak moments, Lotte had trawled the internet for news of Valenti. Had seen the kind of women the Prince dated with stomach-churning dismay she would admit to no one.
