“Say a prayer for me, Aless.” Bianca gripped the goblet tightly. “I think I love him. I think I want to… marry him.” Marry? With talk like that, Bianca would be the one directing Papà’s attention, whether she wanted to or not. To any woman of the Ermacora royal line, Luciano was forbidden fruit when it came to marriage. Still, in her wistfully recounted daydreams, Bianca always seemed to find herself in an orchard of forbidden fruit anyway, with a ladder just tall enough to reach anything she wanted.
