The orchestra was playing a waltz.
Dieter stepped toward Flicka as she stepped back, and he steered her through the crowd.
Flicka asked, “Is he going to ask her to marry himtonight?”
“He told me he would.”
“He shouldn’t do that.”
“Why shouldn’t he? You’re married.”
“I married someoneappropriate.”
“Don’t tell me you swallowed that elitist bullshit your dad was spouting.”
“Of course not. Besides, his idea of what is appropriate and mine are entirely different.”
“Wulf seems to think that Rae is appropriate.”
“She’s not, not at all,” Flicka grumbled.
“I thought you liked her.”
“I do. Very much.”
“Surely it’s not that she doesn’t have an appropriate royal pedigree.”
“Oh, heavens, no. I don’t care about that at all, and I suspect he doesn’t, either.”
“If that’s not it—”
Flicka lifted her head and stared right at him. “Wulf needs to marry someone who won’t be devastated when the assassin steps out of the crowd and finally gets him.”
Dieter almost stumbled backward. “But if you love someone, you’re devastated if they die. Surely you don’t want him to marry someone who doesn’t love him.”
“There are different kinds of love.”
“Not really.”
“It’s perfectly logical.”
“Pierre would be devastated if something happened to you.”
“Pierre has a country to run. He has actual influence in Monaco. He’s not just a royal ‘claimant’ waiting around for the photographers and the media crew. If anything happens to me, he’ll pick up the next day and go right on.”
Dieter looked down at her. “He doesn’t love you?”
“Of course he does. In his own way. But it’s not a disabling kind of love. It’s not the kind of relationship where, if something happened to me, he would fall apart and lose his damn mind.”
“You should be with someone who would fall apart and lose his mind if anything happened to you,” Dieter said.
“Oh, nonsense,” Flicka tutted at him. “Why would I do that to someone?”
“Because living in a marriage without love is just torturing each other,” he said. “Without love, you fight and hurt each other, and whichever of you is weaker gets used.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Flicka leaned back in his arms to look at him, concern creasing the skin between her eyebrows. “Is my brother all right?”
Dieter chuckled. “Wulf is fine. Rae is the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met.”
