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And again, she
    remembered the first time she'd seen him. Blood had coated that black armor. The blood of
    those out to rape and kill her. She could still recall the sound of steel scraping steel as he
    moved. The sight of his dexterity even though every inch of his body had been covered by
    armor.
    More than that, she remembered the beauty of his face… the tenderness of his callused
    hands as they caressed her bare skin. The way he'd held her as if she were unspeakably
    precious, as if he feared she would shatter in his arms and leave him alone again.
       
    Those memories surged and buried all the anger and hatred she'd nursed against him.
    There for a moment, she wanted to go back to the beginning of their marriage. Back to the
    days when she had lived and died for this man. When she had trusted him without question.
    He had been her entire world.
    She'd known this moment would come, and in her mind she'd practiced a thousand things to
    say to him.
    A thousand and then some.
    But every one of them fled her memory as he approached her and some foreign part wanted
    to embrace him after all these centuries. She wanted to rush into his arms and just feel him
    hold her again.
    She'd expected him to curse her or kiss her. To stare at her as if he couldn't believe she was
    here. To try to strangle her. Something. Anything. But in all her imagined scenarios nothing
    had come close to what he did next.
    He walked right past her as if he didn't know her and seized Francesca in a fierce hug
    before he danced around the room with her.
    Baffled, Retta put her hands on her hips as a wave of rage whipped through her body. How
    dare he grab another woman and not even acknowledge her! She opened her mouth to
    speak only to be hushed as the knight started laughing in a tone that was nothing like
    Velkan's . It was light and almost boyish.
    "Oh, my little sister! It's been far too long since I last saw you. How have you been?"
    "Viktor," Raluca said with a laugh. "Put Francesca down before you bruise her."
    Francesca pulled the bird-shaped helm from his head, exposing his laughing features, as
    opposed to Velkan's serious countenance. With brown hair and teasing blue eyes, Viktor
    quickly complied with his mother's orders and set Francesca back on her feet. Laughing,
    she hugged him close while Retta let out a long breath.
    That had been close. Too close in fact and it made her realize that she didn't want to meet
    Velkan on his terms. She needed to make sure that she had control of their first meeting.
    That her emotions and body didn't betray her again.
    "It's so good to see you," Francesca laughed at her brother. "I've missed you so much."
    And those words tugged at Retta's heart as she saw the affection her best friend shared
    with her family. Retta's own brothers had died hundreds of years ago, as had their entire
    lineage. There was no joyous homecoming for her. No parents.
    No husband.
    Nothing.
    That hurt most of all.
    Viktor paused as he realized that they weren't alone. "Princess Esperetta ?"
    "Yes," Raluca answered for her.
    Panic flickered in his blue eyes. "We must get her out of here before the prince sees her."
    Finally someone who actually saw reason.
    Raluca waved his words away. "He won't come here this early."
    Viktor shook his head in denial. "She can stay the night, but come the morrow, she needs to
    leave before he learns that she is here."
    Francesca argued with him, "I brought her here for protection. She must stay."
    "No," Retta said, growing tired of the way they spoke about her like she was a lost puppy
    who was out in the garage. "I came here because Velkan is planning on putting my father's
    remains on display."
    They exchanged a puzzled frown as Francesca turned a bit sheepish.
    Absolute rage tore through Retta's entire being. "Don't tell me you lied."
    Francesca cringed. "Only a little. I knew if I told you that, that it was the one thing that would
    get you to leave Chicago."
    In all her life, Retta had