The walk to the private rose garden at dusk had felt like crossing the threshold into another lifetime. As Camilla had walked through the long, vaulted portrait galleries of the Palace of High Spires, the faces of twenty generations of von Monteverdi monarchs had stared down from the oil canvases: stern crusader kings with iron broadswords, regal empresses in heavy brocades, and battle-hardened princes who had defended this rocky peninsula…
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