Chiara stared after her, then turned to Caliban. “I am so glad,” she said, at last. “Spain will not be so horrible if you are there. But I won’t hide you, Caliban. People will think that I’m ashamed of you. They’ll think that they can treat you badly. I won’t have that.” “I will not be in Spain.” “What do you mean? Caliban, you won’t abandon the ship and leave me?” “I will abandon ship, but not alone.” Heat spread across Chiara’s cheeks. “I cannot, Caliban. You must not ask it of me. If I run away, I dishonor my family and leave my father powerless.” “Powerless.” Caliban spat the word contemptuously. “He is a king with great resources. He does not need to enslave his child to achieve his political goals.” “Stop it, Caliban. ‘Enslave,’ what a ridiculous word. He’s my father. You know—” “It is not ridiculous. It is the truth. And I know more than you understand. I know that your grandfather wished you to escape, and bought that escape for you with his very life.”
