The Lion's Daughter (60 page)

She
shivered and drew away. “Nay, that is not the whole passage.
Percival lent me his book weeks ago. I do not recall ever
y
word, but I remember it goes on
to describe how the man would corrupt the girl he loved and then
betray her with others while he spent all her money.”

Varian
opened his eyes. “You know it, do you? Did you also know that
your aunt told Percival I was like Childe Harold?” “Perhaps
she saw you so. But with me you have not wandered aimlessly about,
sulking and acting tragically.” “Because the mischievous
angel decided my pilgrimage would be different and put Percival in my
way. All that's happened since the night he lied about the black
queen
—
every
conflict, every fear and heartache
—
all
of it was necessary, all part of a journey of discovery.”

Drawing
her back onto the pillows with him, he threaded fingers through her
hair. “Most important, on this journey we discovered each
other,” he went on. “I want to go on discovering,
Esme
—
children,
family, home
—
all
of life, all of love
—
with you.”

“Always
I have thought of life as a battle,” she said shakily. “A
journey, even a difficult one, is better.” Her eyes were
glistening. She blinked very hard. “And better still that you
wish to make your journey with me.”

“If
you hadn't been distracted by revenge and honor and the rest, you'd
have deduced that ages ago.” He looked down at her. “Luckily,
I'm not a very demanding spouse. I don't mind that my wife is not
brilliantly logical in
every
way.
Or that my beautifully romantic speech did not move her to tears. One
can't have everything.”

“You
do not wish me to weep,” she said. “I become very cross
after. And I do not wish to be cross with you. Not tonight
—
even
to make you laugh.” She smiled. “For it does please me to
make you laugh, you know
—
even
though at the same time I may be vexed.” “Because you
accept me just as I am, don't you? You haven't d to reform me, only
to hold onto me. I don't want to reform or tame you, either, only
keep you safe with me, always.” H
e
tilted her chin up and let
himself be caught, lost in the evergreen depths of her eyes. “I
love you,” he said. “Just believe it.”
“1
do,” she said. “I
will.”

“Then
tell me something. Anything.”

“I
love you, Varian
Shenjt Gjergj,”
she whispered, “with all my
heart.”

He
bent and lightly brushed his lips against hers.
“Hajde,
shpirti im,”
he said softly.
“Come, my heart, and show me.”

Author's
Note

COLONEL
WILLIAM MARTIN LEAKE'S TRAVELS IN Northern Greece
was
eventually published in
1835.
This, and John Cam Hobhouse's
A
Journey through Albania
(published
18
17),
were
my main sources of information about early nineteenth-century
Albania. This is why Janina and Prevesa, for example, are Albanian
towns in the novel, though they will not appear within the country's
borders on any modern map. At the time of the story, no Albanian
alphabet existed; until recently, even modern phonetic spelling
alternated, depending upon the writer, between northern and southern
dialects. Consequently, early travel writers spelled Albanian words
as they sounded
—
no
easy task for the English ear
—
or,
in the case of place names, took refuge in the Latin, Greek, or
Italian versions. For simplicity's sake, I settled, with one or two
exceptions, upon contemporary Albanian usage. Thus Esme does not live
in Durazzo or
Drus
or
Duratzo or

Dyrrachium,
but in
Durrës.

On
the other hand, I did retain a few words of Turkish origin, such as
y'
Allah.
Though
rarely used in modern Albania, they would have been common in the
last century.

For
clarification of numerous other linguistic, physical, and historical
enigmas, I thank my parents, George and Resha Chekani; my sister,
Cynthia Drelinger; my uncles Mentor, Steve, and George Kerxhalli; and
my cousins, Skander and Mariana Kerxhalli. The latter spent three
months with us early in
1991—
among
the first Albanian visitors to the U.S. in fifty-odd years.

For
constructive criticism, advice, general wisdom, and moral support, I
am, as always, deeply indebted to my husband, Walter.

Any
atrocities herein perpetrated, however, are without question solely
my own.