Page 22 of Crowned For The King's Secret

She reminded Vic of the stable cats she’d tried to tame as a child. Sitting for hours till she could feed them by hand, stroke them. Never understanding why her parents let them run wild, uncared for.

They’re working, they’re doing their job.

Vic realised now that that was all her family had been interested in, whether something could do the job they’d assigned it. Even her. She’d managed to sneak one cat she’d tamed inside. Astill Hall staff had taken pity on her and fed it, but she spent so much time in boarding school whilst her parents travelled with Lance that she’d had to leave it behind. In the end, the household staff said they’d given him to someone, since he wasn’t welcomed in the barn any more by the other cats. Vic was never sure that was the truth.

She didn’t know why that thought struck her now, why it made her sad to think of that little cat, these kittens here. The sense of melancholy that overtook her...

It was because she’d had no place. Not with her family, not in her marriage, not here. The only time she had was in her own home with Nic, working with her charities saving abandoned animals and women fleeing from domestic violence. She had purpose raising money, which she wasgoodat. Something she was proud of after coming out of the haze that had been numbing her sorrows with prescription medication, and from the brutality of her marriage. Along with being a mother to Nic, these were achievements that made her feel as though she had some value, for the first time in her life.

If nothing else this could give her some purpose. Maybe she could tame this little cat family. Get them spayed and rehomed. The mother gorged on the meat she’d brought. An animal that never knew where its next meal would be. She’d been like that with Sandro, she realised. So starved for affection and attention she’d gorged on him the night they first met. Not knowing when such attention and affection might come again. She’d fooled herself to believe that he felt the same.

The crunch of gravel behind her made the cat and kittens freeze. Then they darted into the bushes. Nic squealed as they ran away.

‘Gatt!’

‘We’ll come back tomorrow and feed them again, darling,’ she said as an imposing shadow fell over them.

Vic didn’t need to turn round to see who it was. Her senses were attuned to this man, a tingling thrill down her spine whenever he was near. Sandro moved in front of her and she looked up as he was framed by the vivid sky above them, as blue as his eyes, dressed in a dark suit and looking perfect as ever.

‘You scared them,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to chase them away.’

She shrugged. ‘They’d finished the meat, anyway.’

Seeing his father, Nic quivered in excitement. He slid down from the bench and tried to wobble over to Sandro, who scooped him up.

‘Did you enjoy thegattini, il mio piccolo principe?’

‘I think he did.’

She smiled. The one thing she was certain about was that Nic had a huge capacity to love, and loved his father. ‘He was almost as excited about them as he was to see you.’

The look on Sandro’s face took on a strange intensity. ‘You have a soft heart.’

She shrugged. Once, she’d hated that heart of hers. The way she expected the best and was always served the worst by people. Thought it made her weak, especially during her marriage, when she’d tried so hard in the end to make herself cold and unbreakable.

She wondered if that held true with Sandro too. He stood there in the warm sunshine, almost gleaming, such a perfect specimen of a human it was as if he had been gifted to the earth by the gods. His lips curved up, not quite in a smile but in a way that burnished off the edges of his hardness. It had been a few days since their conversation about Dora, and every evening he now came to her rooms to say goodnight to Nic, carrying that same whisper of a smile on his face. As if he wanted to be happy and couldn’t.

He’d still given her no word about contact with her solicitors. Such a strange limbo to be in. It was difficult to believe he didn’t know about Nic, but he was adamant he’d had no idea. As adamant as she’d been that she’d told the palace. She was telling the truth, so could it be possible he was, too? She wanted to challenge, to confront. To demand to know what he was doing to fix this mess that had her and Nic in his palace, cut off from the outside world. What if that had been his aim all along, and he was lying to her? Men lied all the time. She’d lived through it in her marriage...

Her thoughts spiralled.

Vic blew out a slow breath. Nic was here, having fun. Even if she kept any conversation about this civil, he’d pick up on the vibe. She didn’t want Nic to become the silent victim of his parents’ conflict. She took a few slow breaths. In, out. Counting. Her thoughts eased. She tried for neutral conversation.

‘Before Nic, I was involved in animal rescue. Seeing the kittens, I couldn’t help myself. I thought they’d need feeding. I wondered whether I could tame them? Perhaps pay for a vet and find them new homes?’

‘You could try. I know staff here feed a number, though there are many strays in Santa Fiorina. The civil war and the years since made it difficult. Some people couldn’t afford to feed their pets as the country descended into ruin.’

She remembered the disrepair as they’d driven through the city to the palace. Beautiful old buildings, pockmarked with bullet holes. How she’d thought then that there appeared to be so much need here.

‘Do you have rescue organisations?’

‘Yes, although they haven’t been as well-supported as they should. We’ve had some international organisations here too.’

Nik grizzled in Sandro’s arms. She checked her watch. ‘He probably needs some milk. I’ll need to go to the kitchen. You want something?’

‘I’ll come with you.’

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