I have paid heavily for my moment of
madness. For nights after, I did not sleep. Even now the memory is
unspeakable torture!" And Ronador admitted with stiff, white lips that
some nameless God of Malice had made capital of his bullet, stirring
his heart into admiration for the fearless girl who had stood so
gallantly by the fire in a storm-haunted wood. In the heart of the
forest a happier solution had come to him and eliminated the sinister
thought of murder.
The Baron coldly heard the passionate avowal through to the end.
"And the Princess Phaedra?" he begged formally. "What of her? What of
the marriage that is to dissolve the bitter feud of a century between
Houdania and Galituria, this marriage to which already you are
informally bound?"
"It is nothing to me. I shall marry Miss Westfall."
"So!" The Baron matched his heavy fingertips. "So! And this is
another infernal complication of the freedom of marital choice we grant
our princes!"
"Ten years ago," flamed Ronador passionately, "you and my father picked
a wife for me! Is not that enough? Now that she is dead, I shall
marry whom I choose. Has it not occurred to you that after all it is
the sanest way out of this horrible muddle?"
"It is one way out," admitted Tregar, "and by that way lies war with
Galituria.
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