The Princess's New Year Wedding. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“MIO FIGLIO? I know it’s early, but there are things I must talk to you about. Come to the apartment.”
Thirty-year-old Stefano sat up in bed. It was a shock to get a phone call from his father at 5:30 a.m., but his father’s entreaty shocked him even more.
“You mean now?”
“Please.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Stefano realized his father’s broken heart wouldn’t allow him to sleep, but then Stefano doubted anyone in the palace had known a moment’s rest for the past week. Alberto, his adored younger brother—his parents’ beloved son and heir to the throne—had just been buried yesterday at the young age of twenty-eight. There was no antidote for sorrow.
Stefano’s twenty-seven-year-old sister, Carla, and her husband, Dino, and two children, were just as grief-stricken over the loss of a wonderful brother and uncle. She was now first in line to the throne and would be queen when their father died or could no longer rule. The rules of succession fell to the firstborn, then the second or the third, regardless of gender.
Stefano would never rule.
Since his eighteenth birthday when he’d prevailed on his parents to be exempt from royal duty for the rest of his life, Stefano had been granted that exemption by parliament. From that time forward, he was no longer a royal, but he loved his family and they loved him. They’d all come together for this unexpected tragedy.
With Alberto gone, his mother looked like she’d aged twenty years and had gone to bed after the interment of her second-born son. The funeral had been too much for her.
Stefano had struggled with his pain and was forced to face the fact that he was now the only son of King Basilio. Though his father would rely more and more on Carla, he needed Stefano, too, and would lean on him for comfort. Stefano guessed that was why his father had summoned him this early in the morning. Forcing himself to move, Stefano dragged himself out of bed to shower and dress.
Before long he entered his parents’ private lounge off their bedroom in the north wing of the palace. His bereaved father turned away from the fireplace to look at him. “Thank you for coming, Stefano. Your mother is still in bed, overcome with grief.”
“As you are, Papà.” Stefano gave him a soulful hug. It would be impossible to get over the reality that Alberto had been killed in a car crash a week ago.
Stefano, who’d graduated from the Colorado School of Mines in the US, had been in Canada at the time, inspecting one of the Casale gold mines. Casale being an old family name dating back to the founding of Italy. Nothing had seemed real until he’d returned home to the Kingdom of Umbriano, located in the Alps. His father had met him after the royal jet touched down and they went to identify Alberto’s body.
Yesterday’s state funeral in the basilica of Umbriano, presided over by the cardinal who had also delivered the eulogy, had been a great tribute to Alberto, a favorite son revered by the people. Dignitaries of many countries had attended, including of course the royal family of the Kingdom of Domodossola bordering France, Switzerland and Italy.
Stefano would never forget the vacant look on the face of Alberto’s betrothed, Princess Lanza Rossiano of Domodossola, beneath her black, gauzy veil. He’d met war victims after serving a required year in the military in the Middle East who’d had that same lost, bewildered expression, their whole world wiped out.
The twenty-two-year-old daughter of King Victor Emmanuel of Domodossola had been betrothed to Alberto twelve months ago. Their marriage was supposed to take place a year from now on New Year’s Day, and her family had clearly been devastated.
Stefano, who was rarely in the country because of business, hadn’t met with King Victor’s family since his childhood when both families got together on occasion. Meeting them again at the funeral, he was shocked to see all three of the king’s daughters grown up. Not until he witnessed their bereavement did Stefano realize how terrible the news must have been for them. Stefano still couldn’t believe Alberto was gone.
“Sit down. We have something vital to discuss.”
By vital, his father must mean he wanted Stefano to stay around for a while, but that would be impossible because of Stefano’s latest gold mining project in Kenya. He needed to fly there the day after tomorrow to oversee a whole new gold processing invention that could bring in a great deal more money. Hopefully, it would serve as a prototype for all his other gold mines throughout the world. He imagined he’d be gone six weeks at least.
With his hands clasped between his legs, Stefano closed his eyes, knowing his father was in so much pain at the moment that he needed all their support, but he was curious as to what his father wanted to talk about.
“The wedding to Princess Lanza must go on as planned. Since losing Alberto, your mother and I have talked of nothing else. It’s imperative that you take your brother’s place.”
Stefano’s head jerked up. “Surely, I didn’t hear you correctly.”
“I know this comes as a shock to you.”
Stefano shot to his feet, incredulous. “Shock doesn’t describe it, Papà.”
“Hear me out.”
Stefano groaned and walked over to the mullioned windows looking out on the palatial estate with the snow-covered peaks of the Alps in the distance. An icy shiver passed through his taut body.
“Our two countries need to solidify in order to build the resources of both our kingdoms. This necessary merger can only happen by your marrying Princess Lanza.”
Stefano wheeled around, gritting his teeth. “Years ago you gave me my freedom by parliamentary decree. I’m no longer a royal.”
“That decree can be reversed by an emergency parliamentary edict.”
“What?”
His father nodded. “I’ve already been investigating behind the scenes. Because of the enormity of this tragedy and their eagerness to see a marriage between our two countries happen, my advisors have informed me the parliament will reinstate you immediately.”
Stefano couldn’t believe it. “Even if it were possible, you’re not seriously asking me to marry Princess Lanza, are you? I haven’t been around her since she was a young girl. And I’m seven years older than she is.”
“That’s not a great age difference.”
Stefano tried to calm down. “Alberto was the one who was attracted to her. I can’t do this, Papà. Right now I’m doing everything in my power to develop more lucrative gold mines and invest the revenues to help our country grow richer. We don’t need the timber from Domodossola!”
His father shook his head. “What I’m asking goes a great deal deeper than cementing fortunes. Victor and I have had this dream of uniting our two families in marriage since the moment we both became parents of future kings and queens.”
“But it’s not my dream, Papà, and never could be,” Stefano said, attempting to control his anger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do what you ask.”
“Not even to honor your brother?”
He hadn’t realized