Renata was sunbathing in a small glass sunroom on the second floor. A low table in front of her held a pot of floral tea. It had originally been prepared by Bert for Catherine, but since Renata had joined them, he brewed enough for both.
The winter sun was warm. Though the wind outside was bitter, the room was filled with gentle heat, with no trace of cold.
For Renata, this kind of quiet comfort was exactly what she longed for.
Living here—cut off from the world, far from all the noise and disturbances of Burg Eltz—she could spend her later years in peace. That, she felt, was more than enough.
Bert sat down on the sofa across from her.
"Cici said you'd like to live here by yourself?"
Renata knew his purpose the moment she saw him. This man, ruthless and decisive in the outside world, was utterly soft when it came to Catherine. He could not bear to see his daughter wronged in the slightest.
