When Duty To Your Country Is All You Have To Live For, How Do You Go On Living?
Ericha is a woman with nothing—not even her father’s name. Following her mother’s death she is guided to Horstberg in search of answers and contentment. When her path repeatedly crosses with the brooding Stefan Heinrich, she is drawn to him by feelings too profound to ignore. The love they share is intense and undeniable, but Ericha’s ignorance of Stefan’s circumstances puts her on a scale in his life opposite to the country he rules, and the wife he loathes.
While Stefan questions daily what kind of madness drove him to marry the deceptive and tawdry Johanna Von Bindorf, a princess from the neighboring country of Kohenswald, he is torn between his commitment to do what is right, and his love for a woman that he cannot have; a woman who fills his aching soul. Years of spiraling downward in hopelessness finally drive him to make Ericha a part of his life as far as it is possible, while deep inside he knows that eventually a price for his happiness will have to be paid.
As Ericha develops a deep bond with the legendary Abbi du Woernig, she unknowingly breathes life back into the heart and soul of Horstberg. But happiness and peace for the entire family are fleeting and fragile. Both Stefan and Ericha quickly realize the price for their choices is higher than either of them ever could have imagined. When Horstberg’s freedom is bargained for with the life of its ruler, Stefan knows that he must sacrifice everything to once again prove himself worthy to serve the people of his country with dignity and to live his life with the woman he loves.
Read sample chapterPrologue
Bavaria—1849
Erich du Woernig came awake with a start. He sat upright in bed, sweat beading over his face. The dream that had awakened him was familiar—eerily familiar. He could hear glass breaking, and at the same time, a loud boom, as if a gun were fired, and the force of the shot threw him against a wall.
Erich groaned and pressed his face into the pillow. Surely the repetition of this dream was simply a hangover from the fears he’d just recently come to terms with. Those who had wanted him dead were no longer a threat. Surely it was nothing.
When Erich couldn’t go back to sleep, he rose at dawn and went riding. The fresh air of late summer cleared his senses and gave him the peace he was looking for. He kept busy through the remainder of the morning, attempting to get everything in order for the busy week ahead.
Erich hurried into the dining room late to find the entire family already seated for lunch. He tossed his gloves aside and took his usual place, glancing around the table at those he loved. Maggie, his sister. Han, her husband and his closest friend. Their children, Hannah, Gerhard, and of course, Stefan. Stefan was seven years old and one of the most important people in Erich’s life. The boy was going to be great one day. Erich just felt it. Then there was Georg, Han’s father and an integral part of all their lives. He was the man who kept this place running, and everyone knew it. Sonia, his youngest sister, and her family were also here. They lived elsewhere, but they’d come for the wedding. And then there were Erich’s parents.
“Is everything all right?” Abbi du Woernig asked. His mother always had a sixth sense about his emotions, but today there were no hidden concerns. Even his nightmares seemed petty and insignificant.
“Oh yes,” he assured her. Then he laughed. “Everything is perfect. I’m getting married in four days, remember?”
“Oh, so that’s why you’ve always got that silly grin plastered on your face,” Cameron du Woernig said. Erich grinned at his father as if to demonstrate.
“I’d say he’s earned the right to smile,” Abbi said. “After what he’s been through to get to the altar, let him smile.”
Cameron chuckled and focused his attention on his wife. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to have to fight to marry the woman I love?”
Erich saw his parents’ eyes meet across the table, and something tangible seemed to pass through the air between them. He knew their own history was filled with struggle and heartache. They were the Duke and Duchess of Horstberg. Their lives were tangled into the responsibilities of ruling a nation. But the joy they shared was evident, and the legacy of love they’d given him was priceless. There had been a time when he’d envied what they shared but not anymore. Now, he understood it. Kathe Lokberg was everything he’d ever wanted, and in four more days, she would be his wife—at last.
The wedding had been postponed due to a political uprising that had put the entire family in danger—most specifically him, being the heir to Horstberg. But that was over now. The danger was past. He was free to make Kathe his wife without the fear of making her a widow. For months he’d had feelings that had nearly convinced him his life would be cut short. He’d come to believe that their time together would be brief, and they had learned to make the most of the present. Of course, having his life regularly threatened had certainly contributed to his fears. He’d felt prepared to die, in spite of his heartache at the thought of not having a lifetime to share with Kathe. But now he was prepared to live, knowing his life was in order and all was well.
The meal proceeded with talk of the wedding and plans for the afternoon. Cameron was the first to push back his chair and stand. “Come along, Han,” he said. “We’ve got work to do. Georg?”
“I’ve got to get that report from the captain, then I’ll be in.”
Han stood and kissed Maggie, as he always did. The love they shared was also evident. “Are you coming, Stefan?” Han asked his oldest son. Erich smiled at the boy. Unlike the other children, he preferred to sit in the office with the men, as if the ducal business actually meant something to him.
“I’m going riding with Erich,” Stefan said. “He promised.”
“That’s right,” Erich said. “But not until I get the dungeon cleaned out. You go ahead and I’ll find you in the office when I’m finished.” Stefan smiled and hurried after his father.
While Han and Stefan hovered in the doorway, Cameron walked the length of the table and bent to kiss his wife. Erich couldn’t help watching them, his thoughts with Kathe. It wasn’t unusual for his parents to kiss, but everyone in the room was a little surprised at the way this particular kiss went on and on.
“What was that for?” Abbi asked with a soft laugh. She glanced briefly down the table and blushed slightly at the evidence that they were being watched.
“It was for thirty-two years of life with you, Abbi girl. I just wanted you to know that I love you, and I’m grateful for every minute we’ve had together.”
Abbi’s embarrassment turned to emotion as she looked into her husband’s eyes. It was difficult to tell if she was simply touched by his sentiment or somehow concerned as she rose to her feet and embraced him. They held to each other a long moment, and then he kissed her again and hurried to where Han and Stefan were waiting. He paused and glanced back at Abbi, who was still watching him, and they exchanged a warm smile before the men left the room. Maggie rose from the table and took the other two children, leaving Erich alone with his mother. Abbi sat back down as if she’d suddenly come out of a trance, and she passed him a warm smile, not unlike the one she’d just given his father. But there was a sadness in her eyes that chilled him.
“What is it, Mother?” She looked suddenly guilty, as if he’d caught her at mischief.
“Nothing,” she insisted with a smile. Erich forced any negative feelings away, concentrating instead on all that was good in his life. Following his father’s example, he rose from the table and approached his mother. Taking her hands, he urged her back to her feet, holding her tightly in his arms.
“I love you, Mother.” He kissed her with a loud smooch that made her laugh. “That’s for thirty-one years of life. The best life a man could ever want.”
Abbi looked into his eyes and touched his hair. “I love you too, Erich. You’ve given me such joy.” He eased away, and she added, “You be careful, now.”
Abbi left the room through a different door, and he knew she would likely spend the afternoon painting. Later he would find her and pretend to know what he was talking about when he told her that her latest painting was the best so far.
Spurred on by his desire to see Kathe this evening, Erich hurried toward the dungeon to complete a necessary task. His hobby of chemistry had accompanied him all the way through his youth. It had always fascinated him, and he’d spent many long days in the dungeon playing with his chemicals. But through the recent threats against his life, the dungeon had become a trap. The last time he’d gone there, he knew someone had been in the room, tampering with the chemicals. He’d decided to clean everything out and start over, and his father had insisted it be done before the wedding. Georg had suggested they get someone else to do it, but Erich had assured them he preferred to do it himself. He knew what he was doing, and he would be careful. He didn’t have to fear that there was someone lurking in the shadows down there, waiting to do away with him, as there had been in the past.
Erich was nearly to the door that led to the dungeon when he passed Georg, on his way to find the captain.
“Hey, Georg,” he teased, “why don’t you come down with me? We could concoct a potion to enhance your looks.”
“It would be just my luck,” he said lightly, “if it blew up in my face.”
“It could still enhance your looks,” Erich joked.
Georg laughed heartily, a rare thing to see since his wife’s death seven years earlier.
“You insolent pup,” Georg said with mock anger. “Just get out of here.”
“I am not an insolent pup.” Erich feigned indignation. “And when I take over this country, I’m going to remember you said that.”
“Perhaps you should also remember that I bounced you on my knee before you could even walk. When you take over this country, you’re going to need me to tell you how to do it.”
Erich smiled and approached the door. “Yes, Georg, you’re right, I know. You usually are.” Erich turned to the two officers waiting at the door that led from the hallway down to his dungeon. “Hello, gentlemen. I assume my father sent you to keep an eye on me.”
“In a roundabout way, sir,” one of them said. “We’re just here to help, and we all want you to stay safe.”
“Of course.” Erich tired not to take the implications too seriously. He also tried not to feel the habitual concern that he was in danger, and he forced away the memory of that recurring dream.
Erich took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Just wait here with the door open,” he said to the officers. “I’ll keep the door open down there, as well. And I’ll yell if I need you.”
“Very good, sir,” the other officer said.
Erich thanked them and hurried down the winding stairs and into his chemistry room. He stood for a minute in the center of the room, wondering where to start. Then with purpose, he reached up to take some little bottles of chemical down from a crowded shelf. As he took hold of the first one, all the others moved slightly, and he realized that a tiny bottle sitting precariously at the edge of the shelf was going to fall. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. He watched it plummet toward the floor, as if time were moving more slowly. Just before it hit, the memory of his dream plunged into his mind. Glass breaking. A loud boom. And then the world ended.
Feeling unusually tired, Kathe Lokberg took down her dark hair and stretched out on the bed. The warmth of the afternoon sun sprayed through the corner window of her bedroom, adding to her contentment. As always, her mind wandered to thoughts of Erich.
Erich. His name alone sent shivers of delight through every part of her. She marveled at how he’d changed her life, and more so at the intensity of their love. It was difficult to comprehend everything that had happened since they’d first met. But she felt peace in knowing they would be married soon. The thought intensified her contentment, and she nearly laughed aloud as she settled more comfortably against her pillow.
At first the rumbling seemed a part of Kathe’s dream. Certain it had to be thunder, she reluctantly opened her eyes, wondering if it might rain. Her heart quickened as she absorbed the sunlight, and her surroundings briefly trembled, as if the earth itself had opened up.
“What in the world?” she gasped, hurrying to the window. Fear gripped Kathe’s heart as something died inside her. She cried out in horror to see black smoke billowing up behind Castle Horstberg. It only took a moment for her feelings to take hold. She could never explain it, but she knew something horrible had happened to Erich.
Oblivious to her surroundings, Kathe fled to the stable and mounted bareback, riding across town as fast as the mare would go. Her thoughts flitted through the difficulties Horstberg had just emerged from. They had endured revolution and come through triumphant. Being engaged to the next Duke of Horstberg, she had almost become accustomed to Erich’s life being in danger. But the war had ended almost as soon as it began. The royal family had all survived, and Erich’s father had assured them all was well. They had finally been able to set a date for the wedding, and Kathe truly felt like a part of the family.
Coming into the castle courtyard, Kathe immediately sensed the havoc. Her fears settled a little deeper, gathering in the pit of her stomach until they threatened to devour her. Reminding herself that she was practically family, she entered without knocking and ran down the long main hall. Her fear knotted into tangible pain as a charred smell struck her senses and the air became hazy with smoke.
Turning the corner near her destination, Kathe stopped cold. Her eyes quickly surveyed these people she had come to know and care for. Erich’s mother, Abbi, was sitting on the floor sobbing. The dignity Kathe had always seen her bear was completely absent. Georg, the duke’s highest advisor and a close family friend, knelt with his arms around Abbi, shock and horror carved into his expression. And Georg’s son, Han, sat on the floor nearby, leaning against the opposite wall. He appeared dazed and in shock while a doctor knelt beside him, administering to blatant burns over his left shoulder and arm.
Erich’s young nephew, Stefan, stood looking on, his eyes wide with fear. Kathe’s heart went out to him as he stared toward the body on the floor that was just now being covered by an officer of the Guard—the body of Cameron du Woernig. With the finality of the gesture, Abbi cried out her husband’s name in anguish.
Kathe wanted to ask what had happened, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to ask where Erich was, but in her heart she knew. As if her ignorance would keep her from the pain, she instinctively pushed her questions aside and moved to Stefan. The moment she put her arms around him, the pride of the young prince dissipated, and he clung to her and cried.
Sounds emitted from the stairwell nearby where hazy smoke still rose. Han suddenly became alert as Abbi’s eyes shot toward the door.
“Get her out of here!” he demanded, struggling to his feet. Georg reacted immediately and attempted to move Abbi down the hall.
“No!” she screamed, reaching toward her husband’s body. Georg pulled her into his arms and carried her up the stairs.
Han’s head swung toward Kathe as he became aware of her presence. For a moment she could almost read his thoughts. He was Erich’s closest friend, and she had come to love him as Erich did. But something in Han’s eyes had changed. He had seen something unspeakably horrible.
“Get them out of here!” Han ordered an officer standing nearby. She’d never seen him behave so brashly.
Two men in uniform gently urged Kathe and Stefan down the hall. Kathe stopped them briefly and turned toward Han, her eyes full of question. She needed to hear it.
“He’s gone, Kathe.” Han’s voice trembled and tears brimmed in his eyes. “You can’t see him. Please trust me. You wouldn’t know him.”
The pain of reality deepened as Kathe let the officers move her away. She was aware from a quick glance over her shoulder of a body, already covered, being brought from the stairwell and laid with the other.
For Stefan’s sake, Kathe fought to remain calm. Everything inside of her screamed in silent anguish. But she was grateful for Stefan’s need for comfort as she took him to his room and helped him to bed, staying with him until his mother came. Then Kathe quietly returned home to mourn in private.
The funeral was torturous for Kathe. On the day she should have been married, the sky hung gray while Horstberg mourned its loss. The duke and his heir were both dead. The funeral procession moved through the beautiful village like a shrouded black serpent. Kathe managed to maintain her dignity, while inwardly she cursed fate for its cruelty in taking Erich from her this way—the same fate she had so recently blessed for sending him into her life.
Though Kathe’s pain ran deep, she felt hesitant to lean on these people she had come to love. Their wounds were as fresh as hers. No one intended to push Kathe away. She chose to remain in the background. Without Erich, she simply didn’t belong anymore. If they had married, it might have been different, but that would never come about now. Her life was over.
Kathe’s brother, Theodor, took her home after the funeral and put her to bed where she mourned herself sick over the next several days. Her father was always close by, but there was nothing anyone could do. She finally convinced herself that she had to go on living. On market day she went into town, just as she’d done hundreds of times in her life. But nothing was the same. The black she wore didn’t begin to express the hole in her heart. It hadn’t been so long since she had been here with Erich. All eyes had watched them, marveling that the prince had finally fallen in love. Now Kathe felt those same eyes on her as she quietly went about her business. Everyone knew she had almost become a du Woernig. And the pity in their expressions made her tangibly ill.
Kathe hurried home and went back to bed, staying there for days. Eventually instinct told her that something more was making her ill. A deep mixture of emotions accompanied the realization that she was going to have a baby. Erich’s baby. They had never intended to allow such a thing to happen outside of marriage, but his life was being threatened and the wedding had been postponed. Desperation had driven them into each other’s arms. She wondered how many illegitimate children had been conceived in times of war throughout the history of the world. But knowing it had happened to others didn’t make it any easier.
Once Kathe adjusted to the idea, she felt grateful to have this part of Erich with her. It gave what was left of her life some purpose. What she had shared with Erich was too powerful to regret, and she believed in her heart that he would be pleased to know that a child remained in his stead.
Kathe nearly went to tell Abbi, but an unexplainable fear stopped her. She knew the du Woernig family didn’t need the burden of this to add to their grief. It would not be joyous for them. It would only be a stigma, a painful reminder of Erich’s absence.
When Kathe told Theodor and her father, they were not as shocked as she’d expected them to be. Of course, they had been well aware of the duress she and Erich had been under. But her father brought another problem to light. Erich’s life had been precarious. The country had just emerged from revolution. The heir to the throne was dead. Were there still revolutionaries out there who would not want Erich du Woernig’s child to exist? Legitimate or otherwise? Unlikely perhaps, but possible enough to make Kathe’s decision clear.
Kathe’s father said nothing when she told him she was leaving Horstberg. Somehow she knew he understood her need to go, even though it broke his heart. But he promised to visit often, and she knew he would always be there for her, in spite of the miles that would now exist between their homes.
Theodor, however, protested her leaving strongly. He begged, pleaded, and ordered her not to go. But her mind was made up. And reluctantly he swore to never tell a soul what he knew.
One last time, Kathe wandered through town on market day. Still wearing black, she was almost becoming accustomed to the pitiful stares of those she passed. But she couldn’t bear the thought of how they might look at her if they realized she was pregnant with Erich du Woernig’s child.
The morning Kathe was scheduled to leave, she walked with purpose to the cathedral where she and Erich should have been married. The huge edifice served as the north boundary to the cemetery. She walked a familiar path through the gate, toward the section in the center surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence, where members of the royal family were buried. The trees that shaded the graves were nearly bare; their leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked. The huge marble stones that marked the graves of Erich and his father had a new, polished appearance that made them stand out among the others.
With hesitancy, Kathe reached out to touch the words carved in stone. Erich Cameron Georg Gerhard du Woernig. 1818 – 1849. And etched below the name and date were the words to a song that Erich’s father had written for him before he was born. Kathe touched each word, one by one, clearly hearing in her memory the way Erich had taught them to her. She managed to hold back her emotion until her fingers traced over the final lines. I know my love is here with me. A fire burns in my heart.
The full extent of Kathe’s pain rushed out of the numbness that held it bound, burning through her chest before it came into the open with an anguished howl. She sunk to her knees and pressed her face to the cold stone that bore Erich’s name.
“How can I go on?” she cried as if he could hear her. “How can I bear this child alone? I can’t!” she sobbed and pressed herself closer to the marble slab. “I can’t!”
Kathe felt warm hands on her shoulders, but she paid no attention. It wasn’t the first time her father had found her here and forced her to come home. She expected his grip to tighten and urge her to her feet. But instead his arms came around her, holding her tightly. And with his embrace, a tangible warmth filtered through her entire being. The intensity of the feeling made her gasp and lift her head, glancing briefly over her shoulder. Then she caught her breath and held it. She was alone. But she wasn’t. She forced the air out of her lungs when they began to burn, and her breath carried his name into the open air. “Erich.”
The undeniable sensation of his embrace only deepened. Her tears turned to laughter. “Erich,” she said again, closing her eyes to savor the feeling, knowing she couldn’t expect it to last any more than a long moment.
Kathe expected to feel emptiness and despair in the absence of what she’d experienced. But she rose to her feet with hope and determination. In her heart she knew that he was with her, as much as he possibly could be. She felt the fire in her heart. And she knew that one day they would be together again. But not until she carried out her mission in this world, to raise his child with the legacy of love that he had given to her. And she would!
Kathe Lokberg’s absence went generally unnoticed, even by many who knew her well, until their mourning had subsided enough for them to think clearly. By then she was nowhere to be found.
The people of Horstberg would likely never forget the explosion of 1849. It inevitably affected their lives. But much like other stories of interest in the history of their small country, it was put to the back of their minds. And life continued. Time naturally made the loss feel less significant, and what had once seemed unbearable to face was eventually taken for granted.
Kathe Lokberg’s own death some eighteen years later left her daughter with no choice but to return to Horstberg, with little more than her mother’s dying promise that it was beautiful enough to be heaven on earth. And much like Kathe’s departure, Ericha’s return went generally unnoticed.