A new turn, this, with a vengeance! Hedwig stared up with startled eyes. It was not enough to be sacrificed. And as she realized all that hung on the situation, the very life of the kingdom, perhaps the safety of her family, everything, she closed her eyes for fear he might see the fright in them.
Karl bent over and took one of her cold hands between his two warm ones. “Little Hedwig,” he said, “I want you to come willingly because—I care a great deal. I would like you to care, too. Don’t you think you would, after a time?”
“After a time!” said Hedwig drearily. “That’s what they all say. After a time it doesn’t matter. Marriage is always the same—after a time.”
Karl rather winced at that, and released her hands, but put them down gently. “Why should marriage be always the same, after a time?” he inquired.
“This sort of marriage, without love.”
“It is hardly that, is it? I love you.”
“I wonder how much you love me.”
Karl smiled. He was on his own ground here. The girlish question put him at ease. “Enough for us both, at first,” he said. “After that—”
“But,” said Hedwig desperately, “suppose I know I shall never care for you, the way you will want me to. You talk of being fair. I want to be fair to you. You have a right—” She checked herself abruptly. After all, he might have a right to know about Nikky Larisch. But there were others who had rights, too—Otto to his throne, her mother and Hilda and all the others, to safety, her grandfather to die in peace, the only gift she could give him.
“What I think you want to tell me, is something I already know,” Karl said gravely. “Suppose I am willing to take that chance? Suppose I am vain enough, or fool enough, to think that I can make you forget certain things, certain people. What then?”