Why had he loved her? Not for her strength, though she had plenty of it. For that, he’d admired her. She was untouchable for it, for her courage, for her unyielding surety. It was easy to love. It was why anyone would be drawn to her. Still, it wasn’t why Dimitri had loved her. No. That had been for her goodness. For her loyalty. For her heart. Dimitri Fedorov had loved Marya Antonova with his entire being for his entire life, which was how he’d somehow come to miss the now-obvious signs that his plans and hers weren’t entirely the same.
