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But he ended the call. Swiftly. And when she called back immediately, he denied it.

Then he sat there a moment, feeling…churned up inside.

He had always felt responsible for his sister. Unlike some of the more self-righteous members of the cabinet and the palace staff, he had always enjoyed her high spirits. Her irrepressible nature. Her determination to do exactly as she pleased.

Maybe he’d admired it because he’d wished he could do the same.

But he’d meant what he said. He had always planned to take part in her wedding. And in Saviero’s wedding too, for that matter, just as the two of them had made an appearance at their friend Kyriakos’s wedding earlier this fall.

There were too many prices to pay. And he was tired of bearing the cost. But Vesuvius thought about the fact that he was here, in Chicago, at last. That regardless of what mood she might be in, she was here.

Aeryn was right here, under the same roof.

That was already a significant improvement over yesterday. Or the day before. Or the years before that.

And yes, he’d known going in that there would be hefty costs associated with this decision. He’d still gone ahead with it and he couldn’t wish otherwise now. The truth was, he didn’t.

But he wanted very much to get back to the reason he was here, and it wasn’t more tedious matters of state.

So he beckoned in the rest of the assembled team, and he made the far more tedious, necessary calls they directed him to make. He talked with the unamused Chicago police, and let both US Federal Aviation and local Chicago authorities shout at him.

He discussed delicate matters and gave his impressions on thorny diplomatic issues for the team to take back to his sister.

More than that, he set the stage for his sister’s rule. He had never tolerated any disparagement of the so-called party girl princess in his presence, but in this meeting, he made certain to indicate that he thought Queen Francesca was more than able to navigate the same complicated matters he had.

If not more so, given that she was significantly more charming than he’d ever been.

And finally, after he was certain he’d had more meetings packed into a little over an hour in Aeryn’s dining room than he’d had over the last ten years of his reign, he told his cabinet members—who had not suffered a crash and any amnesia tonight—that he was finished.

“You gentlemen have traveled a long way, but it is the middle of the night here. I am exhausted. You all look exhausted. I suggest we agree to reconvene.” He eyed them.

“Perhaps after Christmas?”

“How can you think about a holiday at a time like this?” demanded Marconi, right on cue.

“What I’m thinking about, Minister Marconi,” Vesuvius replied without bothering to modify the edge in his voice, “is that these are discussions and decisions that require cool heads and thoughtfulness. Neither of which are on display on so little sleep.”

They were sitting around the dining room table then, so he stood up, managing not to smile when they all leaped to their feet, too. Old habits died hard. They all knew that he was no longer the king, but their bodies had yet to catch up with that.

“Marcus has outfitted me with a new mobile phone,” he said, nodding at his security chief. “I am reachable. You can wish for nothing more, I trust, as I transition into the life of a private citizen. I do not wish to be disturbed. I hope that’s clear.”

“I have already insisted that we maintain security measures,” Marcus cut in then, when Marconi tutted. “The situation is well in hand.”

Then Marcus assisted Vesuvius in nudging the group of men toward the door, then through it into the still-snowy dark outside. There were only flurries now, but the drifts along the curb were high.

Marcus nodded at him and could not seem to keep himself from a slight bow. “I’ll be outside. We have secured the perimeter, but you shouldn’t see us unless you need to.”

“Much appreciated,” Vesuvius replied, and then he stepped back into the house, shut and locked the door, and stood there a minute with his back against it.

But only for a minute, because now they were gone. Now he could deal with the one thing he truly cared about in all of this.

He took the stairs two at a time but when he got to her bedroom, she wasn’t there. There was another flight of stairs that led to a third level, and he frowned in that direction, but something made him move across the hall and open the other door there instead.

Vesuvius realized immediately that it was his daughter’s room. Faith’s room.

And Aeryn was sitting there, wrapped in a throw as she gently rocked herself in a chair that sat in the bay window, her gaze out on the street below.

He thought that perhaps she was weeping again, though when she turned her face to his, he could see that she was not.