3

Lorenzo woke early, before sunrise. He’d always been an early riser, waking before the sun. He attributed it to the discipline of being raised in the camp, and the high expectations that Marco had set for them all. Even after all this time, there was hardly a day that passed that he didn’t think of Marco, and he knew, for his father, it was the same. He sat up in the bed, re-arranging his pillows against the headboard. He and Chantal had taken over the massive bedroom in Castello his mother and father had once occupied. His father had insisted, saying Castello was his now, and he was the master here.

Leaning comfortably against the headboard, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and lit up, exhaling the smoke into the room. Chantal slept soundly next to him. He knew she’d sleep for another hour at least. He looked at her with affection. They’d had a good life, and she’d been a loyal mate, and an excellent mother to their two sons. He reached down and lightly brushed the soft brown curls away from her face. She was easy going and good natured, but they’d had their struggles too. Theirs wasn’t an arranged mating in the truest sense. Both were allowed to choose whom to mate, and he chose her freely. He loved her, and he knew she loved him. In the early years, she had a difficult time, as she’d been used to following her father's orders. Henri had raised his daughter in the traditional ways, where females were taught to defer to their master. She’d been much more shielded from the world than either Sophia or Natalia, and not given much leeway when it came to speaking her own mind. Lorenzo chuckled to himself, as he tried to imagine anyone putting a muzzle on Sophia. Natalia had made significant shifts in Council policy, granting females equal status to the males, but the older vampires were slow to change. When they were first mated, Chantal found it necessary to consult her father over every decision, instead of coming to him. If ever there was a difference of opinion between her mate and her father, she felt a strong conflict. It went against everything she felt she knew to defy her father's views, but then, she knew she shouldn't defy her mate either. It had created a divide between them and took a long time to work through. It was Amelie who finally saw her daughter's conflict and told Chantal that she wasn’t dishonoring her father if she followed her mate.

Lorenzo was convinced that Henri, although concerned for his daughter's happiness, took some measure of pride in the fact his daughter still differed to him. The mating had been a good strategic move for the Medici, although that carried no weight in Lorenzo's decision to mate her. The Valois had a long history with the Medici, and Henri's territories covered much of France. Lorenzo's second son, Henry, ran the third warrior camp in Burgundy, near the Medici vineyards, and the Medici had been given chateaus and property as part of Chantal's dowry. Together, both families were stronger and more powerful.

Both of their sons had been born warrior, and both had inherited two gifts. Christoph had Lorenzo's gifts of fire-thrower and day-walker, while Henry had inherited the gifts of dream-walker and day-walker. They’d both trained as young boys in the camp at Florence and served rotations through their grandfather’s property in the States, working at Bel Rosso and the California camps. The boys had made him proud, and both served the growing coven well. Christoph had remained in the States, assuming control of the camp at Bel Rosso, and Henry took on the new camp in France. He knew his children would mate soon, as would Sophia's children, and the Medici bloodline would be secured for future generations.

They had much to be grateful for, and Lorenzo never took that for granted. He took a deep drag on the cigarette, as the tip glowed in the dark room, and watched the smoke hang in the air as he exhaled. Still, he felt something was lacking.

Even as a small boy, he’d seen the passion between his parents and saw it still after all this time. There was an intensity in the love his parents shared that was absent in his own mating. He never doubted Chantal's love for him, but her love was reserved. She never refused him, and was a willing mate, but she never sought him out. He saw how his mother looked at his father, how she devoured him with her eyes. He’d watched their silent communication for years, the exchanged glances, the wink, the coy smiles, all communicating a desire that was being temporarily placed on the back burner until they could find a moment alone together. As children, he remembered the strict instructions delivered to the three of them, and obeyed by all except Sophia, to never enter their bedroom when the door was closed. Their desire for each other didn’t grow less with time but burned as bright as when he was a young boy. He didn’t have that with Chantal, and he knew he never would. It was simply not in her nature. There was no one else he’d prefer as his mate, and he didn’t regret his choice, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

***

Chantal woke slowly, she could smell the cigarette smoke, and knew he was wide awake. He’d always wake before her and she rather liked waking to find him looking at her or touching her. He had a gentle way with her, as he had from their first meeting. She loved Lorenzo, he was faithful and caring and an excellent father. Their sons adored him. But he was also very busy. It wasn’t unexpected. Her father had always been busy, managing their territories and their businesses. She understood her obligation to duty, especially since she’d been born a royal. Being mated to Lorenzo had exposed her to the world of warriors, an area from which she’d been shielded growing up. She knew Lorenzo was a great warrior, protecting his family, and their coven. When they were younger, she was always busy with the children, but now the boys were grown and out on their own. These days, she felt all she had was time, and nothing to fill the hours. Unlike her sister-in-law, Sophia, she’d not been trained in business. Her education focused on the arts. She felt she didn’t have the skills to manage any of the vast holdings that belonged to the Medici. As a result, she’d taken to returning often to her parents’ home in Paris. At least, there, she could help her mother with the charity balls, and the never-ending social engagements scheduled by them, or for them. She often wondered what Lorenzo saw in her, and what value she brought to the coven. She opened her eyes and greeted him in her soft voice, "Bon jour, Lorenzo."

The morning light was coming through the windows, and he could see her soft peaches and cream complexion, and the blue eyes, appearing almost too large for her face. He smiled at her as he put out the cigarette. "Good morning, mon cherie. I hope I didn't wake you." He leaned over to kiss her lightly, and she returned the kiss before rolling away from him to get dressed and begin her day.

She loved his pet name for her and smiled. She never got tired of hearing it. Climbing from their huge bed, she slipped on her robe and walked to the large closet, one of several that held her passion for fashion and shoes. "No, you didn’t wake me. I was hoping to go see Maman for a few days. I have a need for a few new pieces of fall clothing. You don’t mind, do you? I won’t go if you don’t wish for me to." She stopped and turned to look at him, still sitting naked in their bed, with the sheets covering his lap. His eyes were so blue, their intensity was visible from across the room, and he still wore his hair long. She scanned the tattoos on his shoulder and one arm. She remembered being shocked when she’d seen him nude for the first time. Tattoos weren’t common in her circles, and she was startled to see them. She’d never cared for them, although she had to admit, they suited him.

He smiled to himself. He couldn’t imagine why she’d need more clothes, but she’d been raised to wear only the latest designer fashions, discarding the previous year’s wardrobe, as if it were somehow now contaminated. She’d always preferred the French designers to the Italian ones, and besides, it gave her an excuse to visit with her mother. "Of course. Rene must escort you, as always, but I see no reason why you shouldn’t go." Rene had been the protector assigned to her since childhood, and after they mated, she wished to have him remain with her, as opposed to taking a new protector. Rene had been trained in the Medici camp in Florence, so Lorenzo had no hesitations about her keeping him.

Chantal scanned the vast closet, looking for an appropriate outfit. She dressed modestly, but fashionably, and wore only the top designers. "I’m grateful you allow me to go, Lorenzo. And Rene is always with me. I would never leave this house without him." She pulled out a suit and held it up to the mirror in front of her before turning to look at him. "There is a charity ball I’ll attend with Maman and Papa. I’m hoping, perhaps Henry can join us. I miss him so much, and Papa asks about him often, so I thought, perhaps, it would be good to have him come and visit while I’m there. Is there anything you wish me to tell him?"

Lorenzo nodded his approval of the suit she held up for his review. “Henry would love that. Besides, I think he could use a break from the camp. They've had a busy year with the new warriors, a larger class than usual. No message, I speak to him almost every day."

He slid from beneath the covers and walked naked to his own closet and grabbed the first set of leathers he saw. Alfie was probably already in the camp, and he needed to get his ass moving. "You'll let me know you arrived safely, si?"

She shook her head, as he pulled on the familiar leathers. "Oui. Perhaps I will do some shopping for you as well." She chuckled, knowing he could care less about fashion.

He had a closet full of clothes she’d bought for him, some with the tags still on them. He did appreciate the soft feel of the cashmere sweaters she bought for him that he wore with his jeans. They both had social obligations to their covens, in both Italy and France, and there were occasions when he must give up his jeans or leathers and wear a suit. Still, he had more suits than he could possibly wear. "If it makes you happy, cherie."

She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She should be happier. Lorenzo had always indulged her and would deny her nothing…but still. Her life felt robotic, and she needed something to fill the void. She was happy to be going home. She was an only child, and her father was overjoyed when she’d given birth to not one but two sons. She was hoping Henry would join them while she was there. She needed to see him, and her parents were always so pleased when they had his company. She stuck her head out of the closet and saw that Lorenzo was ready to go. "Seeing my son always makes me happy, and seeing you dressed like a civilized royal also makes me happy."

He stopped to slide his hand around her waist and pull her close, giving her a kiss. "Then perhaps you should shop for Henry. Maybe he has more room in his closet than I do. He doesn't yet have a mate to make sure he looks civilized."

"I have always kept our sons in the latest fashions. Henry, especially, relies on my taste in choosing for him what the ladies prefer." Standing on tip toe, she kissed his cheek. "Go to your post. I’ll be off soon, and I’ll see you when I return."

"Two days, cherie, then I’ll need to feed." He kissed her forehead before leaving the room.

She watched him leave. Two days to visit her parents, and hopefully, her son, and some time to catch up with a few close female friends, then she’d come home and take care of her mate. She adjusted the collar of the suit nonchalantly. Her father had used feeders for many years, so as not to bother her mother. Chantal was well aware that wasn’t a practice accepted in the Medici family. Her parents were in an arranged marriage, and they’d grown to love each other in their own way over time. She’d never witnessed any display of affection between her parents, and certainly not the open passion she saw between Lorenzo’s parents, or his sister Sophia’s mating. She’d observed them with a curiosity over the years, wondering what that kind of passion even felt like. She’d never be like Kate, or his sister, Sophia. Their lives were far different from hers. She was raised to never speak above her station, as the mate of a king. His decisions were final and not to be argued with. She couldn’t count the times she’d sat with his family and said not one word, as they all loudly voiced their opinions. She cleared her mind of such nonsense and rushed to pack a few things and have Rene escort her home to Paris.