Free The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Suzette Hollingsworth Page B

everything for me. You were far better to me than my own parents.” Alejandro cleared his throat. Why could he not make Esteban understand how much he owed him so that they could move on to more important matters?
    “My greatest wish is that you would find pleasure in the life you have been given, Alejandro. With less thought to both yourself and to others.”
    “To myself, certainly. But not to others.”
    “Less thought . Not less feeling.” Señor Esteban sighed. “The heir to the throne of Spain counts each day as drudgery, as if it were something to be endured instead of embraced, savored… lived . Your life should be a source of rapture. You, who have everything anyone could want, feel life to be a burden.”
    “It is a burden. A great burden. If you have not noticed that truth, you have not had your eyes open, Esteban.”
    “You have a job to do, but that does not mean you cannot enjoy yourself along the way, Alejandro.”
    “Enjoy?” Alejandro repeated incredulously. “Enjoyment does not enter into it, Esteban. Only discipline, duty, and honor. There is nothing else for me.”
    “You navigate life by enforcing the strongest will I have ever encountered.” Esteban released his breath in frustration. “Can you not consider, Alejandro, that discipline is a tool, not a goal?”
    “Decidedly. The welfare of Spain and its people is the only goal.” He shook his head, and his wavy dark-brown hair fell in his eyes before he pushed it back into place.
    “Extreme discipline leads to being distanced from oneself. You don’t know how to receive, Alejandro.” Softly he added, “You don’t even know who you are .”
    “Who I am ?” Alejandro snorted, studying his gloved hand. “I am the crown prince of Spain. Outside of that, it is of positively no importance who I am.”
    “You are admired and envied by everyone. You would rather be anyone else on earth.” Esteban tapped his elegant cane on the floor of the carriage for emphasis. He held on tightly to the wooden inlay handle that hid a sword inside the cane.
    Alejandro tapped his fingers on his thigh. It was true, but he would never admit it. It was beneath his dignity.
    “Do you remember, Alejandro, when you were in school, that you often used your position to help the other boys but never yourself? It was anathema to you to use your position to your own benefit.”
    “What is your point, Esteban?”
    “What do you do for yourself, Alejandro?”
    “You know my weakness, Esteban.”
    “I do not speak of your women. They are not for your pleasure, Alejandro.” Esteban shook his head. “Would that they were.”
    “Not for my pleasure? If they are not, the delusion is sufficient.”
    “They are to satisfy your need. And they will never meet it.”
    “They do their best, that is all I ask.”
    “I love you, Alejandro.” Esteban sighed. “What does that mean to you?”
    “I thank you, my friend,” replied Alejandro softly. “It is my singular good fortune.” He looked out the window, hoping they were not far from their destination.
    “No, Alejandro, how do you feel about it?”
    Alejandro frowned, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand. Esteban reached for the paper, which Alejandro deposited into his hand. “It is unfortunate that the English diplomat to France—what is his name? Ravensdale?—was unable to join us this evening due to illness. More than any other issue at hand, I wish to improve Spain’s relationship with the English. The war with the Americans hurt Spain in more ways than can be counted. Five years later, and we are no closer to recovering than we were in 1898. Cordial relationships with influential dignitaries cannot be overrated.”
    Esteban stared at him, his mouth opening slightly.
    Alejandro considered his dilemma. “When do we dine with the French prime minister, Esteban?”
    “Thursday evening, my friend,” Esteban replied softly, his eyes sad and hollow.
    Raising his eyebrows in disapproval at the sigh that