"And yet you cannot seem to see me inside the life you handed to me so graciously."
Richard's stomach twisted. She was right. God help him, she was right. He had given her a way forward—and then he had nearly ripped the whole thing apart because he had been afraid to lose her. He was topping the selfish chart in one day. "Diana…" he said. "I wasn't thinking."
Livia straightened. "I beg your leave, Your Grace. I would like to wash the dirt of the road off me and get some rest." She dipped into the smallest curtsy he had ever seen her give.
Then she walked past him.
"Diana…" he called with a sigh.
She did not turn back. Richard watched her disappear into the house. Maybe she wasn't the one who needed changing.
Maybe he was the one who needed to learn the art of respect. He looked around at the staff still standing about the courtyard.
"Nothing to see here," Richard snapped. "Off you go."
