table as if waiting for him to continue.
Paul gave a mental shrug. Why not?
He sat back in his chair. ‘My father was...’ Appalling. Irascible. Impossible to please. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Everything had to be done his way. He tried to mould me into a copy of himself.’
‘I’m so glad he didn’t succeed.’
Paul felt a little jab of heat through the chest at Eva’s words. It was true he’d made it his life’s aim not to be like King Hugo, but hearing Eva say so, especially when she smiled at him that way...
‘My mother ran interference when she could but, from the time I was old enough to realise what sort of man my father really was, we were on a collision course. Nothing I did was good enough. I wasn’t hard enough, didn’t follow his instructions blindly. As a result, I was punished regularly.’
Eva’s expression grew tight with disapproval. ‘He beat you?’
What would have happened if Paul’s mother had turned such a look on her husband when he’d lost his temper instead of turning meekly away?
He shrugged. ‘Yes. But eventually only rarely, because it didn’t have the desired effect.’ Because Paul had been too proud and too determined to let the old man see how close he was to breaking.
‘He tried other methods. One day, when I’d questioned something he said, he had me packed off to the hunting lodge. Told me that if I wanted to be so bloody independent I could have a taste of real independence and see how I fared. I assume he thought I’d give up after a day and ask to come back with my tail between my legs. Or that it would be a salutary, toughening up experience.’
‘I don’t understand. Why would staying at the lodge be tough?’
Paul felt a grim smile tug at his lips. ‘Because I was only nine. I was left there alone in the middle of winter. The electricity was turned off and the water. I was given a couple of days’ rations but no matches. The guards posted at the perimeter had orders not to let me out till I said I was ready to apologise.’
Across the table, Eva’s jaw dropped open. ‘That’s...that’s...’
‘That was my father.’ Paul reached out for a pastry and bit into it with relish. Even now he recalled how sharp true hunger pangs were, and how harsh even a Mediterranean winter could be.
‘After five days, the captain of the guard was allowed in to see how I was doing.’
‘Five days!’ She shot to her feet, her hands planted on the table. ‘He left a nine-year-old alone there for five days? What sort of parent...?’
She choked down the rest of the sentence, making Paul feel all sorts of a fool for distressing her.
Seconds later he was on her side of the table, taking hold of her hands. Her fingers felt cold as they clutched his.
‘Shh. It’s okay. I survived.’
‘But that’s just criminal!’
‘That was my father. You’re not supposed to say it about a parent, but it’s a relief he’s dead. He can’t harm us any more. Plus, we’re spared the need to put him on trial for his crimes against the state.’
Still Eva goggled up at him. ‘But five days! How did you survive?’
‘Well, I was skinnier when they took me home than when I went there.’
Instantly Paul regretted his wry words as he saw her horror.
‘It wasn’t too bad, really, even though my attempts to trap animals to eat were a dismal failure. I had more success with heating, though, so I was warm. I’d seen a documentary showing people lighting fires by rubbing sticks together. It took me a day and a half—’ and hands rubbed raw to the point of bleeding ‘—but I finally managed it. I set water traps outside to collect rainfall so I had enough to drink. It was actually a bit of an adventure, camping out in one of the smaller rooms with a stack of books from the library and a roaring fire.’
Compared with his regimented life at the palace, it had been bliss. Except for the hunger pains, and those times in the middle of the night when his nine-year-old imagination had turned the lodge into a terrifying place.
‘He was a monster.’ Eva clutched Paul’s hands and his fingers curled around hers.
Even Paul’s mother, though supposedly worn out with worry about him all those years ago, had welcomed him home by trying to make him promise never to cross his father again. It felt good now,