Allesandra could see the slight shake of Sergei’s head. She knew what he was thinking as well: You don’t want reports to get back to Brezno that you are entertaining Stor ca’Vikej’s son… But there was something about him, something that drew her. “I thought you were a patient man.”
“My vatarh also taught me that an opportunity missed is one forever lost.” His eyes laughed, held in fine, dark lines.
Allesandra rose from her chair. She took his hand.
“Then, for the sake of your vatarh, we should dance,” she said, and led him from the alcove.
Varina ca’Pallo
It was difficult to be stoic, even though she knew that was what Karl would have wanted of her.
Karl had been failing for the last month. Looking at him now, Varina sometimes found it hard to find in the drawn, haggard face the lines of the man she had loved, to whom she’d been married for nearly fourteen years now, who had taken her name and her heart.
Because he was so much older than her, she had feared that their time together must end this way, with him dying before her.
It seemed that would be the case.
“Are you in pain, love?” she asked, stroking his balding head, a few strands of gray-white hair clinging stubbornly to the crown. He shook his head without speaking-talking seemed to exhaust him. His breath was too fast and too shallow, almost a panting, as if clinging to life required all the effort he could muster. “No? That’s good. I have the healer’s brew right here if that changes. She said that a few sips would take away any pain and let you sleep. Just let me know if you need it-and don’t you dare try to be brave and ignore it.”