A moment later, from the same area, he pulled out the lock of my hair and showed it to me. I nodded and touched my heart. He nodded and walked away from me, ordering his men around.
Thandie breathed next to me. “It’s so sexy when they do that. Order around men who are considered the top of the food chain, all around the world.”
“Yeah,” I breathed out. “It is.”
She nodded up ahead. “Let’s keep walking. It’ll keep us warm, and we’ll be out of this zone.”
“Zone?” I smiled.
“Where Francesco and his family can’t get an easy view of you. I’m pretty sure this meeting is supposed to happennotfor war to break out.”
“War,” I repeated.
That was exactly what this meeting could lead to. We became silent as we continued ahead. Ermanno ran with Azzurra in the distance. He was swinging his stick, still pretending it was a sword. He seemed to be showing her what he’d do to an enemy if she was in danger. She was laughing, running with him, but she wasn’t as fast. Her boots seemed clunky, and it was making her a bit clumsy. He kept step with her. I’d seen how quick he was. He was doing it on purpose. And that warmed my heart.
“The romantic is strong inside of that one.” Thandie’s eyes were on him too.
I glanced at her husband. Even though he was ordering men around, I could see that the way his wife was looking at his son was warming his heart too.
“It’s one of the things I love most about them,” I said.
She sighed. “The balance is perfect with most of them.”
“Yeah.” I agreed. “Most.”
“Francesco and his line?”
“No,” I said. “They want to use romance to climb the royal ladder.”
“I got that feeling,” she said.
“This could end up very bad,” I whispered.
She squeezed my hand, glove against glove. “Rocco is a competent leader. He’ll do what’s right.”
“He is,” I said. “But he’s also a husband with both romance and ruthless directing his blood. If Rocco feels they’re encroaching on his territory?—”
“You—”
“Me,” I said. “Not much is going to save Francesco.”
We came to a stop underneath where my writing room was. The flowers were all dead, waiting for another chance at life when spring weather rolled across the hills, the sun defrosting the frozen land, the fog cloaking the magic while it began.
Thandie stared up into the window, a single candle I’d lit earlier giving the room a faint glow. It was an eerie spot. The fog was directly underneath the window, almost looking for a way in. It wanted to feel the warmth of the flame dancing with an invisible wind.
“You haven’t felt the need to write?” Thandie whispered.
I stuck my hands deeper into the pockets of my coat. I felt chilled to the bone suddenly. “No,” I whispered, following the tone of her voice. We didn’t have to whisper, but for some reason, we were. “Not a damn idea has come to me.”
“Maybe you have to experience more life to know what the story is trying to tell you.”
“Maybe,” I said.
She was right, though. It was like my mind was avoiding whatever the story was that was stirring inside of me. When I’d written Rocco and my love story, it slammed into me, and I couldn’t stop writing. My heart knew the story before it was timeto write it. All my truth spilled out on the page, and since it was so personal to me, I refused to share it with the world. It would be for the baby growing in my womb when he or she was old enough to understand. Our book was with the one Nonna had left for me. All my special books, the ones that meant the most to me, together.
“Stronger together,” I whispered.
“It’s a bit creepy how the candle is flickering like that,” she whispered, then shivered. “Is it getting colder out here or is it just me?”
