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“This way,” he said. “This is where Matteo and I used to play when we were boys.”
The rocky path led down to a grove of trees. Heavily shaded, and next to a deep, fathomless swimming hole.
A waterfall poured down black, craggy rocks into the depths.
The water was a crystalline blue, utterly and completely clear. The bottom of the river was visible, making it seem like it might not be as deep as it was. But he knew that you could sink and sink and not find the end of it.
He and Matteo had always loved it here. It had seemed like another world. Somewhere separate from the strictures of the palace. Though, at that point he had not yet come to hate it.
Still. He had appreciated the time spent outdoors with his brother. His brother had been most serious at that age.
Perhaps because he had always known that the burden of the crown would be his.
“This is beautiful,” she said. He expected her to reach for her phone immediately, but she didn’t. Instead, she simply turned in a circle, looking at the unspoiled splendor around them.
“Yes. You know something? I know that my father never set foot down here.” He stared at the pool. “And now he’s dead.”
“That’s a tragedy,” Violet said. “To live right next to something so beautiful and to never see it.”
“There were a great many things my father didn’t see. Or care about. He cared about his own power. He cared about his own comfort. This is just one of the many things he never truly looked at. Including the pain that he caused his own people.”
“But you did. You do,” she said.
“For better or worse.”
“You used to swim down here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you laugh and have fun?”
“Of course I did.”
“I can’t imagine you having fun.”
“I can assure you I did.”
“It’s safe?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She took her phone out of her pocket and set it on the shore. Then she looked back at him and kicked her shoes off, putting her toe in the water. “It’s freezing,” she said.
“I said it was safe. I didn’t say it wasn’t frigid water coming down from an ice melt.”
She stared at him, a strange sort of challenge lighting her eyes.
“What?”
“Let’s swim.”
“No,” he said.
He realized right then that the outright denial was a mistake. Because her chin tilted upward in total, stubborn defiance. And the next thing he knew she had gone and done it. Gone in, clothes and all, her dark head disappearing beneath the clear surface. And she swam.
Her hair streaming around her like silken ribbon, her limbs elegant, her dress billowing around her. And he was sure that he could see white cotton panties there beneath the surface. He felt punched in the gut by that. Hard.
“Swim with me,” she said.
