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It was true—if unfortunate—that she had never stopped loving this man, not once in all these years, but she had long been aware that she hated him a whole lot too.

She had the distinct urge to slam the door in his face no matter how terrible the weather was.

He was a king. Aeryn had no idea what he was doing bloodied and covered in snow, but that could have nothing to do with her. She felt vindictive, and furious, but even as that swelled within her, a kind of shame took its place.

She was used to that, too. It had been her constant companion these last years.

Because she had known exactly who he was when she’d met him. She had known the parameters going in when he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back, greedily. Aeryn had never been able to help herself, was the trouble. She had told herself, time and again, that a love like theirs was worth anything and everything, even the agony of losing him to his duty.

And of all the gifts he’d given her, Faith was by far the greatest—and how could she want to turn back time if that would mean missing out on being Faith’s mother and getting to bring that bright little life into the world?

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

But aside from all of that, it had been two years since she’d last seen him in person. It was the longest she’d gone without seeing him since they’d met, and despite all that had happened since that last meeting—like a whole, new person she’d given birth to, not that she was counting—it turned out that she was still weak.

That wasn’t something she had expected to find out tonight. The gala had been such a success. She had finally felt redeemed. On the arduous walk home, she’d found herself thinking that this was a new leaf turned. That she was truly moving on with her life and making it everything she wanted it to be now. With what she had and who she was now. Having nothing to do with the past.

And now here he was. Literally on her doorstep.

Another too-complicated, not un-positive emotion rose in her, but she tried to tamp it down. She stepped back and beckoned him in.

“It’s a blizzard out there and we’ll make a snowdrift in the front hall if we stand here like this,” she said, frowning at him. Crossly, she hoped. Like this was an annoyance, not a catastrophe.

Like that was all he was to her now. Because that was all he ought to have been.

Vesuvius seemed dazed as he shuffled inside—not his usual, masterful stride, which was strange—and then looked around as if he’d never seen the interior of a brownstone before. Which, if she considered it for a moment, he probably had not. When would he have had occasion to spend time in Gilded Age Chicago? She didn’t think he’d ever been to the Midwest of the United States before, much less this city.

She looked around too, wondering what this house that she thought was the finest she’d ever seen looked like to a king.

He had been very generous when he’d told her they could never see each other again. When he’d made his final decision—and she didn’t like to think about those days. How desperate she had been, how brokenhearted and bereft. Loving on the one hand that he was the kind of man who felt so deeply about his duty to his people, and yet on the other, feeling deeply betrayed that he could not feel that kind of loyalty to her.

She had not wanted his money. She had not wanted the gifts he’d given her anyway, settlements that would keep her then-unborn daughter cared for and more than comfortable for the rest of her life. Settlements that she had told him, unflinchingly, had made her feel like a whore after all.

He had flinched too, but he had insisted.

Aeryn had allowed herself such grand ideas when she’d left Liandero that last time. She would not touch a penny, she had vowed. She would not take his guilt money and allow him to think that somehow offset his refusal to be her lover, her partner, and her daughter’s father.

She would not allow him to pay his way out of the mess he’d made of her life.

But reality had set in, the way it always had, in her parents’ unpretentious living room in a quiet suburb outside the Loop. She had poured out the whole story to them, finally telling them what had been going on with her the previous three years. Making her sudden obsession with European getaways make sense, she supposed, but she was sure the news that she was pregnant and decidedly unmarried disappointed them deeply.

Not because they were the sort of people to pass judgment and condemn her. But because she was certain that they had wanted better for her than this. Better than the secret mistress to a king. Then discarded by him, pregnant and alone.

That was not how they’d raised her.

Aeryn and her mother had cried. Her mother had held her hand and hugged her close, and had told her fiercely that one way or another, they’d figure it all out.

It was her father who had stayed silent. And only after clearly turning it all over in his head a few times had he looked her way and held her gaze.

She’d seen no criticism there. Aeryn hadn’t understood how much she’d expected to until then, when the lack of it made a new sob lodge in her chest.

I don’t know anything about a king and I don’t want to, her father had said. But I don’t know that I’d turn down an easier life for you and for your child out of spite. Or pride. She’d made a soft noise, but he’d carried on in his usual quiet, direct way. Maybe you got to this place in a way you don’t like, but you never have to worry again, Aeryn. That’s the long and short of it, and I can’t see adding insult to injury.

But Dad, she’d started, protesting.

Take the money, he’d urged her. He’d held her gaze. Doesn’t seem to me that you can get rid of it anyway, so you might as well use it for good.

And Aeryn had tried. Oh, how she had tried.