Wild Heir (Fated Royals 4)

“I really am just so sorry. Truly. For putting you through that hellish engagement, that horrible wedding. That I almost lost you…” He pursed his lips and shut his eyes. “Unspeakable. It was a terrible position and I hope, with all my heart, that you will forgive me.”

Little did he know, of course, that I had understood and forgiven him even as it was all unfolding. Even as I’d cursed him and his addiction, I understood he’d had no other choice. But this was an important moment—a real apology. No excuses, no schemes. And weak though I was feeling, I was strong enough to stand my ground and hold it.

“I’ll accept your apology if you promise me one thing. No more gambling.”

He shook his head in agreement. “I nearly met my maker, my girl. I made the same promise to myself long since. No more. I swear it.”

In his eyes, I could see that he really did mean it. Whether or not I could keep him away from the cards for good would be a matter for another day, but at least it was a start. And that was a victory that I could be proud of.

I blew out a relieved breath and then scooted up beside him in bed, sitting next to him, both of us with our heads propped up against the pillows. He smelled fresh and clean, like aftershave and soap, and it made me enjoy the simple pleasure of being alive and well.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” my father asked, staring up at his intricately painted ceiling beside me, as if we were gazing at stars.

“You mean, after I got sick?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, sounding slightly mischievous.

“Nothing. Just the strangest dreams.”

“Well,” he said, sounding rather tickled. “Your fellow Vasile is very devoted, let me tell you.”

I froze for an instant, with my eyes stuck open. “You mean, I didn’t dream that part?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw my father shake his head.

“I’ll tell you. It was enough to make an old man’s heart melt. He stayed by your side every single day. As soon as he learned you were sick, he barged in here like something out of a Shakespearean love story. Would not leave. Vanke tried to swat him away with a dishtowel. ‘Brute!’ she said. ‘Leave the poor girl alone!’ But he wouldn’t go. He would not. Even your mother tried to get him out, and you know how angry she can get, what with the pointing and glaring. But it didn’t matter. Your Vasile wouldn’t budge.”

Your Vasile.

I wished so much he’d stop saying it that way. Vasile was nothing of the sort. I was grateful that he’d sent the doctor to help us, but I felt that I had grieved for him so much and so hard that I could hardly find the strength to feel anything more. And anyway, it was all over. He was gone, that much was clear. His guilt had been absolved, it seemed.

“Apparently the devotion didn’t last for long. I don’t see him anywhere now.”

“That was the last act of the tragedy, my girl,” my father turned to face me a new sadness in his eyes. “Once it was clear you’d survive, he packed up his things. Came in here and told me himself. ‘She wants me gone from her life,’ he said. ‘I won’t dishonor her by disobeying her wishes. I won’t make mine be the first face she sees when she wakes up. I will always protect her. I will always protect you all.’” My father frowned and pressed his hand to his own heart.

My heart ached at the thought of Vasile even thinking that, let alone saying it. It sounded just like him, too. I could hear him saying the words as surely as if he’d just said them to me himself.

I closed my eyes tight, trying to will away the ache in my chest. But instead, I saw very vivid flashes of what I thought had been nothing but crazed dreams. Dreams that I hadn’t dared let myself think were actually real.

“Did he… did he even sleep there, by my beside?” I asked, turning to face my dad.

“Oh yes,” my father said, with a sigh, as he smiled at me. “For days and days. If it wasn’t for the doctor he had sent to care for me, you would surely have been dead.”

I blinked away a sudden rush of tears, trying to sweep them aside before my father noticed. But there was no point in trying to hide how I felt. Death and I had faced one another, but I had emerged victorious. It was foolish to try to kid myself about the way things were and how I really felt.

I loved him, with my whole heart, and I desperately did not want to let him go.