The Princess's New Year Wedding. Rebecca Winters
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banking interests. Stefano found him in his office on the phone.
The second Enzo saw him in the doorway, he waved him inside. After he hung up, he lunged from the chair to hug him. “I’m so sorry about Alberto.”
“So am I, Enzo.”
“Chiara and I couldn’t get near you at the funeral. There were too many people.” Stefano nodded. “Come to our house tonight for dinner so we can really talk.”
He stared at his best friend who’d recently married. They’d been friends throughout childhood and had done everything together, including military service. Stefano had been the best man at their wedding three months ago.
“I need help.”
Enzo chuckled. “Since when have you ever needed a loan?”
Stefano sat down in one of the leather chairs. “I wish money were the problem, but it isn’t.”
As Stefano’s father had emphasized, this suggested marriage had a lot more riding on it than financial considerations.
“You sound serious.”
“More serious than you’ll ever know.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“My father woke me up at the crack of dawn to have a talk.” In the next few minutes he told Enzo the thrust of the conversation with his parents, including the necessary part about being reinstated by parliament.
“Our marriage will make me heir apparent to the throne of Domodossola since King Victor has no sons. He doesn’t have any married daughters yet. According to their rules of succession, a woman can’t become queen in their country. He’ll have to rely on a son-in-law.”
His friend whistled and sank down in the chair behind his desk. “I know this used to happen in the Middle Ages, but not today.” He looked gutted. “Who will take over Umbriano when your father can no longer rule?”
“My sister, but I imagine that’s many years away. Our country doesn’t run by the same laws. You know that. Since I was granted my freedom, she’s been raised to be second in line should anything happen to Alberto. Which it did,” he said in a mournful tone.
“But if you’re reinstated—”
“No—” He interrupted him. “My destiny lies with the throne of Domodossola, the only reason for reinstating me.”
Enzo slapped his hands on the desk. “There goes the end of our friendship.”
“Don’t you ever say that!”
He smiled sadly. “How can I not? With you living in Domodossola, you’ll be a prisoner running the affairs of government, hardly ever free to leave the country or have time for me. What will you do with all your mining companies?”
“I still plan to run them, of course.”
“Then you’ll be carrying a double load. I thought it was too good to be true when your father released you from your princely duties on your eighteenth birthday. We should have known it would all come to an early end.”
Stefano closed his eyes for a minute, never imagining he’d lose his brother so young. “I haven’t told my parents what I’m going to do. Not yet.”
While he’d driven into town, he’d considered the huge decision his parents had made to give Stefano his freedom. In searching his soul, one thing became clear. He could solve his parents’ dilemma about the marriage situation by unselfishly taking Alberto’s place. How could he not when his brother had willingly done his double royal duty to make up for Stefano’s absence?
“It’ll happen,” Enzo muttered. “I know how much you loved Alberto. You’ll never let your parents down now that you know of your brother’s sacrifice. As for Princess Lanza, she’ll agree to marry you. After all, you are Alberto’s brother and she knew you when your families got together as children.”
“That’s true, but I was hoping for some much-needed advice from you.”
They stared at each other for a long time. “All right—there’s only one way I can see this working. You need your freedom, so do her the biggest favor of her life and yours. You’ve got a year before the wedding. Let her know before you’re married that you plan to be your own person and continue doing the mining work you love while you help her father govern. It’ll mean you’ll be apart from her for long periods. Give her time to adjust to that fact, know what I mean?”
* * *
Pain wasn’t the right word to describe Lanza’s feelings since returning from the funeral in Umbriano four days ago. Shock would be more precise. Prince Alberto had always been kind to her when they had met. She’d never felt uncomfortable with him.
The second-born son of her father’s best friend, King Basilio of Umbriano, had been mild-mannered. Over the years and occasional family get-togethers, both families felt their two children were the perfect fit. Since they’d wanted the marriage to happen, they went ahead with the betrothal on her twenty-first birthday.
According to what her parents had told her, they’d believed that out of her two sisters, Lanza had the right temperament and disposition to be the wife for Prince Alberto, who’d shown an interest in her.
From that time on Lanza had spent several weekends a month with Alberto, both in Domodossola and Umbriano. They’d developed a friendship that helped her to get ready for her marriage. She’d enjoyed being kissed by him, but they hadn’t been lovers.
The fact that he was nice-looking had made it easier to imagine intimacy in their marriage. She’d liked him well enough and believed they could be happy. But now that he was gone, one truth stood out from everything else.
She hadn’t lost the love of her life.
Furthermore, his death had made her aware of her own singlehood in a way she would never have anticipated. Since the betrothal she’d known what her future would be. For the past year she’d been planning on the intimacy of marriage and family, the kind her parents enjoyed. Yet in an instant, that future had died with him.
His life had been snuffed out in seconds because of a car crash on an icy, narrow mountain road when he’d swerved to avoid a truck. The accident had robbed her of the destiny planned out for her. But as sorry as she was for Alberto and his family, a part of her realized that she was now free to make different plans.
There was no law of succession in Domodossola since a female couldn’t rule. Now her parents would have to look elsewhere for a prince who would marry one of her older sisters, either Fausta or Donetta.
The sad, legitimate release of her betrothal vows gave Lanza a sense of liberation she’d never known before. Heaven help her but the thought was exciting. So exciting, in fact, she was assailed with uncomfortable guilt considering this was a time of mourning, and she did mourn Alberto’s death.
In an attempt to help her deal with the fact that Prince Alberto had been taken prematurely, the palace priest, Father Mario, had been summoned. He counseled her that she should be grateful Alberto hadn’t been forced to live through years of suffering. If his life had been spared, he might have lost limbs or been paralyzed.
Of course she was thankful for that and appreciated the priest’s coming to see her, but no one understood what was going on inside her. No longer would she be marking time, waiting for her future with Alberto to start. There was no future except the one she would make from here on out. In truth, Lanza found the thought rich with possibilities.
Since returning from the funeral, it hit her with stunning force that she was alone and dependent on herself to make her own decisions, just like her sisters had been allowed to do. This strange new experience wasn’t unlike watching a balloon that had escaped a string and was left to float with no direction in mind. But she knew what she wanted to do first.
With this new sense of freedom, she