“My mother hated me,” Karl said. “She wanted nothing at all to do with me, much less when I was having nightmares.”
His confession startled her. “What about your father?”
Karl shrugged. “The king had better things to do than coddle a young boy. I learned to get over my fears on my own.”
“But they loved you,” she insisted. “You were their son.”
“No. They had an obligation to me, but love was never part of it.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say, for his even tone suggested that he’d spoken the truth, nothing more. When she craned her neck to look into his eyes, she saw the echoes of her own loneliness.
Her father hated her for reasons she couldn’t understand—and the prince knew what that was like. For a brief moment, she’d glimpsed the man behind his cold shield. There was a similarity between them that she’d never guessed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning away.
They continued riding uphill until he stopped the horse near a small stream and tethered it. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.” The path grew steeper, and he offered his hand to help keep her balance.
“Who are we going to see?” she asked.
“An old priest who served my father, years ago.” His face grew solemn, as if he didn’t like mentioning the king of Lohenberg.
“A priest?” She stopped walking, folding her arms across her chest. “Why are we visiting a priest?” Her suspicions prickled, for she knew the Fürst was still insisting upon marrying her.
“Because I want to hear more about what’s been happening on the island, and Father Durin will know the needs of hisparishioners. He’s also fond of food and can provide us with a meal.”
Her suspicions sharpened, for it couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d brought her to visit a priest.He can’t force you into marriage,she reminded herself.
The prince reached to the ground and picked up a long wooden staff, handing it to her. “Use this walking stick, in case you start to lose your balance.”
Though she accepted the staff, leaning upon it, she eyed the Fürst, questioning his motives. He behaved as if nothing at all were amiss.
When they emerged from the forest, Serena saw the ruins of the abbey. Truthfully, it seemed to be built upon the remains of a castle structure. The main section was intact, but several towers were crumbling. A small moat encircled the structure, and water flowed beneath the drawbridge and down the hillside.
The Fürst took the staff from her and ordered, “Stay behind me.”
“Why? Isn’t it safe?”
“I don’t know if Father Durin is still living here,” he murmured. “And if he’s gone…”
She understood what he meant. Following his orders, she moved behind him. The Fürst led her forward, across the drawbridge, and up the wooden staircase that led to a large set of double doors. He lifted the iron knocker and rapped sharply upon it. Serena took another step back, uncertain of what to expect.
When a hand touched her shoulder, she let out a yelp. Behind her stood a middle-aged man with a long sword in his hand.
The prince’s reaction was instantaneous. He moved in front of her, shoving her back toward the top of the stairs while he held the walking stick like a quarterstaff.
The older man’s mouth slid into a smile. In Lohenisch, he said, “So. The fallen prince has returned.”
Serena pressed her back against the door, not knowing what he meant. Fallen? Before she could ponder it further, the old man laughed and sheathed his sword.
“We came to share a meal with you, Father Durin,” Karl said. A moment later, he switched into an unfamiliar dialect, and the only thing Serena recognized was the question behind it.
The older man withdrew an iron key from a pouch at his waist and pushed his way past the prince. “Come inside, and we’ll talk.” He didn’t cast Serena a single glance, nor did he ask why she was here.
The interior of the ruins was dark, and Father Durin brought them into a gathering space. A large chandelier hung in the center of the room, filled with lighted candles. Although Serena could see bits of the sky through the roof, with the fireplace lit, the chamber wasn’t too cold.
“And who is this?” the priest asked. “Looks a bit fine, to me.”
“She’s my betrothed wife,” Karl answered. He sent the older man a piercing stare, and the priest responded with a nod. Serena sensed that something was unspoken between them, and whatever it was made her spine prickle with unease.
