Alexandra groaned and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. ‘You shouldn’t put such fantasies in my head. It’s unfair.’
Bernard pulled the sheets up to cover them as he rolled over on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows as he looked down at her, his arms framing her face.
‘It isn’t a fantasy, Alex. We will have no other responsibilities, nothing stopping us from going where we want, when we want. It’s just you and me, and the world at our fingertips.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I wish you’d believe me when I say that one day you could be one of the most talented violinists in London.’
He kissed her, his lips lingering as she stared up at him, knowing that he truly believed what he was telling her, whether she agreed with him or not. She lost herself looking into his eyes, knowing that even when she closed hers tonight and fell asleep, she’d still see the way he looked at her. His irises were brown flecked with green, the most unique hazel, and they somehow always seemed to dance when he gazed at her.
‘B, what if I’m not as talented as you think I am?’ she asked. ‘What if you’re like a parent who thinks their child is better than all the others, when in fact they’re decidedly average?’
Bernard just laughed at her, as if it were the silliest statement in the world. ‘Why is it so hard for you to believe in your talent? You are one of the most gifted violinists I’ve heard play, Alex. You put your heart and soul into your music, and Franz wouldn’t be tutoring you if he didn’t agree with me. I don’t know when he last took on a new pupil, but he doesn’t spend his time with violinists he doesn’t see huge promise in.’
She stared up at him, reaching for his hair and running her fingers through it, before tugging him back down to her so she could kiss him again. Sometimes she believed in herself, sometimes she let herself imagine that she truly was as gifted as Bernard insisted she was, but most of the time she told herself that he was just being nice to her.
‘Stop overthinking it,’ Bernard whispered to her, trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, at the intimate juncture where she rested her violin. ‘Just believe me when I tell you that one day, you will be on stage giving the performance of your life, and no one in the audience will be able to take their eyes off you.’
‘Stop,’ she whispered, shaking her head, not believing him for a moment.
‘I won’t stop, not until you see yourself the way I see you. The way other people see you.’
His kisses became more insistent as she looped her arms around his neck to draw him even closer again.
‘I have to go,’ Alexandra groaned. ‘You know my uncle will never let me see you again if you don’t have me home by curfew.’
Bernard ignored her, and soon Alexandra had forgotten all about what time she was supposed to be home, lost to Bernard’s fingertips on her skin and his lips that had found their way back to her mouth.
21
The next day, Alexandra walked down the stairs, her hand skimming gently across the top of the handrail. She smiled as she remembered unsuccessfully sliding down the rail years earlier, desperately trying to beat her cousins, who were already well practised at doing so. She’d landed awkwardly at the bottom with a very loud thud, and she still recalled the way her uncle had walked out of the dining room, given her a prod, and then told her that she had best work on her landing. Her own father would have turned red in the face with anger and sent her indefinitely to her room, and it was those differences between the two men in her life that she often pondered.
‘Alex?’
She hurried the last few steps down the hall and found her aunt and uncle already seated at the dinner table. They often sat down early for a pre-dinner drink, and she always loved hearing them laugh and talk about their day, but tonight they didn’t seem as jovial as usual.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked. ‘I hope I’m not late to dinner?’
Belle wasn’t there yet, but then Belle had a penchant for arriving late to almost everything.
‘No, of course not. We just wanted to keep you abreast of what’s happening in Greece,’ her aunt said.
‘Oh?’ She sat across the table from them, studying their faces. She was surprised to see them exchange rather serious-looking glances, as if they were trying to decide who should tell her the news, before her uncle cleared his throat and spoke.
‘Alex, there’s been a quite significant development regarding the monarchy,’ he said. ‘Have you read any of the news about what’s happening, politically speaking, in Greece?’
She sat back in her chair, pleased that whatever concerns they had were about an entire country, not her or her cousins specifically. ‘No, I haven’t. I can’t confess to being up to date with any political news, either here or in Greece, for that matter.’
‘A national referendum was held, and the support was overwhelmingly in favour of abolishing the monarchy and establishing a republic in its place,’ her uncle explained. ‘King Theodore is making a live address tonight on national television, broadcast all through Greece, but my dear, he’s being stripped of his title. The monarchy in Greece has effectively ended.’
Alexandra digested the news, feeling mildly sorry for the King, who had by all accounts always been kind to her when she’d met him. She wondered what life would be like for his family on the heels of such news.
‘So they will remain exiled in London?’ she asked, still not quite sure what all this had to do with her.
‘I imagine so, although he has expressed his desire to return to Greece, regardless,’ her aunt said. ‘It seems all he wants is to return home, no matter whether he is king or not.’
‘Although he’s been advised publicly that it would not be wise for him to return, at least not until quite some considerable time has passed. Many Greeks are happy the King and his family won’t be coming back. There have been celebrations on the streets and in the town squares across the country.’
‘I can see that this would have come as quite a shock to the family,’ Alexandra said carefully, looking between her aunt and uncle, ‘but you both seem worried. Do you think this will have implications for me? Is my father still an aide to him, after all this time?’
She’d often thought of returning to Athens, wondering if she could travel with her aunt and uncle to see her old home and explore the places of her childhood. To visit her mother’s grave, to see if her horses were still being kept at the same stables, to gather some of the things she’d left behind in their hasty departure all those years ago, if that were even possible.
