Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 68691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
And Violet’s eyes pleaded with me.
“I know you think that I did the wrong thing, but you have to understand, I had no choice,” she said slowly, eyes shining with tears. “I had no choice! They’d taken one baby from me and I was afraid they’d take the other two as well.”
I paused for a moment. She had a point there. If I were a young girl going up against a powerful, wealthy family, I too would think twice.
“But what about Georg’s efforts to reach his sons? The phone calls, the letters? What about that?” I demanded.
She just sighed, shaking her head.
“He’d already made clear that he was a pawn of the throne, tossed about by forces he couldn’t control. What if his efforts to get in touch were part of some evil scheme to steal my boys away from me? Maybe the Venetians wanted to influence Kato and Karl, make them hate me somehow, turn their backs on their own mother. I did what I thought was best, please understand,” she pleaded, her voice strained.
And again, I could see why Violet chose this course of action. Even though she hadn’t been through a divorce, she’d been betrayed twice by the same man, her heart broken, running off with what little she had. If I were in her shoes, I’d do whatever I could to protect my remaining children as well.
“But Violet, what about what Georg said, all that stuff about the ‘blood royal’?” I added, more gently this time. “You told your sons that the King rejected them because they were commoners, when you knew that wasn’t true. So in fact, you were trying to turn the boys against their father,” I pressed.
And here, her face fell.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said slowly. “That I wove a web of lies, that I lived a web of lies for thirty years, creating ill will, lying to my sons, doing anything and everything to get ahead. But the fact is,” she said, taking a deep breath, “things aren’t that straightforward. I wasn’t thinking clearly at some points, yes,” she acknowledged, “but until you’ve been in the shoes of a heartbroken woman, you’ll never know,” she said sadly.
And I was still incensed, sure, but I could feel the bubbling anger starting to calm to a simmer, some of the tension releasing. Because I knew what it was to have a broken heart. Since the events of the gala, our foursome had dispersed as I’d predicted, with Kato, Karl and Kristian going their separate ways. Kristian had disappeared on some “royal business” which could have been anything, I hadn’t seen him in weeks now. And Kato and Karl? Who knew where they were? The two men, despite their predictions, had immediately been scooped up by a military contractor and had probably been sent to Afghanistan or Syria, raging war zones both. My heart broke again thinking of them, putting their lives in the line of fire each day, the risk of death immense, if not certain.
So I was no stranger to heartbreak, no stranger to dreams shattered, hopes dashed, my image of the future irrevocably gone. Instead, I only had myself now, living in a small apartment by the river, the interior shabby. I was sleeping in a small twin bed I’d bought recently, unable to face the king-size one I’d once shared with my lovers, the sheets sticky and wet from our constant loving. So I lay in my narrow bed night after night, my thoughts spiraling out of control, the pain almost killing me, wishing that I wouldn’t wake up some mornings.
But inevitably, I pulled myself up at the ring of the alarm, listlessly getting dressed and eating breakfast before heading off to my job at the non-profit. Because it was the only thing that kept me going now, working with the Roma. My clients, these hardworking people who had nothing, who’d staked their dreams on small business, were all that I had. And I admired them, I always had, their dedication in the face of adversity, in the face of incredible discrimination, pre-conceived notions of what it meant to be Roma. And some of my clients were doing well, rehabilitating their credit scores, building esteemed community reputations, their businesses thriving, their networks growing. It was the only thing that kept me going now, and I made myself go in each day, my work kept the blood running through my veins, the air pumping through my lungs, no matter how despairing I felt.
But Violet’s voice interrupted me again.
“Please Tina,” the older woman in a low voice. “Don’t give up on them.”
My head snapped back to look at her, my look piercing, glaring.
“Don’t give me any crap about giving up,” I cut out sharply. “I’m not the one who left. Karl, Kato and Kristian are the ones who took off.”