Sitting on the patio of a nearby bistro a short time later, Max downed his espresso in one swig. "Well, this certainly changes things," he said while putting the porcelain cup down with a clink. "Although I must apologize for my earlier outburst, you do have to realize that your condition came as quite a shock."

Caught mid-swallow, Reine almost choked on her sparkling water. "You were always quite good at stating the obvious."

"Give me a break." He scoffed. "I'm sure you're way past initial reactions, but I'm still trying to process this."

"Process away," she said, raising a incredulous eyebrow. "I'd love to hear your insight."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "So do you know how this happened?" He unexpectedly smiled.

"Of course I know how it happened," she said, straightening in her chair. "I just don't know how it was possible for it to happen. We're supposed to be biologically frozen, just maintaining the status quo while unable to grow or change. Obviously, I'm doing both." She could have punched him for making jokes.

"And you're certain that you've maintained your immortality? There were some doubts as to your health a while back, if I remember correctly," he said as his expression turned serious.

Tired of trying to convince him with just words, Reine picked up a fork and stabbed it with as much force as she could into the fleshiest portion of her palm.

"Oww, shit. I always hate this part." She pulled out the utensil and gritted her teeth, watching the four small pricks quickly erupt with blood. Holding her hand up for Max to see, they both observed how quickly the wound closed. After wiping it with a napkin, the skin looked as pristine as before.

"Yes, I'm back to normal. Well, considering to circumstances, I guess. What do you think is going on?" she asked, honestly curious to hear his opinion on the matter.

In a familiar move, he ran his fingers through his hair. "I have no idea. Are you even sure it's his?"

Reine could feel her blood pressure increase in response to his accusatory tone. She matched it by raising her own voice.

"What kind of floozy do you think I am? Of course it's his. And you can say his name," she added.

Max, however, was unaffected. "Very well. Let's start at the beginning then. When do think Gabe knocked you up?" he asked wryly.

She wanted to scream at him for his attitude, but Reine knew it wouldn't do any good. Pausing for a few seconds, she took a deep breath and decided not to let Max get to her.

"Fine. Let's see. I first started getting sick after the ball in Venice--"

Max leaned forward and slammed his hands on the table. "You slept with him in Venice?" he asked angrily.

"Would you let me finish? No, I did not sleep with him then," she explained, but recalling that amazing night put a smile on her lips. "I probably would have though, if your henchmen hadn't interrupted us."

His expression turned stoic upon hearing the admission. "Go on."

"I just mentioned that night because I think that was the turning point. Whatever happened there allowed me to get pregnant later. And if you must know, it was mid-March. The same weekend he died."

"That makes you, what? Three months along?" He rubbed his forehead. "Have you been to a doctor?"

"I'm not sure if I can. Not to a regular one, at any rate." She frowned.

"That's true," he said. "I'll find somebody in London for you."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that." She took another sip from her water, all the while watching him. Max seemed to be deep in thought, staring off into the distance. "So now what?"

"Well, we still need answers, don't we?" He looked back at her. "And there's only one person I trust enough to go to with this. So if you're about done with your drink, we should get going."

She put down her glass. "Where to? I wanted to get back to London tonight."

"A quick trip down to the Loire Valley. Just a few hours each way," he said while he stood. "You could still catch the ten o'clock train and be in bed by midnight."

Reine reached for her purse on the adjacent chair. "Can't you just call this person? Who is it, anyway?"

"I think it's time for you to meet Senior Antonio. And no, I can't just call him. The man has no idea what a telephone is, much less owning one. Now come on, we don't have any time to waste," he instructed, placing some money on the table and helping Reine up from her chair.

They walked down the sidewalk in silence until Max grabbed her hand and led her across the street.

"Is this yours?" she asked with a giggle, pointing to the tiny car parked at the curb in front of them.

"Don't be ridiculous. This is mine," he said as he walked to the boxy Mercedes SUV parked behind it and unlocked the door.

"Of course it is," Reine mumbled under her breath before taking a seat next to him.

Max drove out of the city, and soon they were on the motorway heading south. She must have fallen asleep at some point, because when Reine stirred, an hour had passed and they were stopped on the side of the road. The driver's seat was empty, but groggily looking around, she saw through the back window Max standing behind the car.

Clearly distressed about something, he alternated between looking at his phone, pacing in a small circle, and running his fingers through his hair. At one point, he seemed to be finally making a call, but he abruptly hung up without talking to anyone. Instead, he shoved the device in his pocket and returned to the driver's seat.

"Is everything okay?" she asked after he slammed the door.

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

Reine didn't reply. She wasn't anxious about reaching their journey's end. She was more worried about who Max was so conflicted about calling. Between his changed attitude and recent revelations, she was afraid to know the answer. But barely twenty minutes later as they drove up a packed gravel path surrounded by immaculately manicured lawns, she regained her interest in their destination.

The white, stone walls of the sixteenth-century chateau glistened in the late afternoon sunshine, its cylindrical towers rising toward the sky and piercing the clouds with their elaborately detailed gray roofline.

"This is where Della Catena lives?" she asked in awe.

"Yes. Are you familiar with it?"

She sighed. "I've been here. A very, very long time ago."

He didn't ask about the details, but Reine unwillingly recalled them as they drove closer to the gate in the center of the exterior wall surrounding the castle.

She had been an immortal for just over forty years, having already outlived her natural life expectancy. With all of her closest relatives and friends gone, she had nothing to tie her to her homeland and eventually traveled north to the country of her maternal ancestors.

Her mother had often told her about her own childhood in Lyon and had taught Reine French at an early age. This knowledge allowed her to seamlessly blend into life in this otherwise foreign nation.

She had agreed to marry a blind widower - a kind man who afforded her a hard, but fulfilling life. She was also looking forward to her first chance at motherhood, even if it was to someone else's children. She was surprised that in a short amount of time, she had grown to love eight-year-old Henri and five-year-old Madeleine as if they were her own.

Since it would be Pierre's second marriage, her husband-to-be had to receive special dispensation from the King to proceed. Fortunately, they lived in a village close to where Francois I was building his hunting lodge. The next time the monarch visited the chateau, they made arrangements to seek an audience with him personally.

Never expecting any objections to the formalities, they were shocked when Philipp, the Duke of Brittany persuaded his cousin to block the marriage and instead betroth Reine to him.

Reine was heartbroken, not just for herself, but for Pierre and the children, as well. But she couldn't even imagine the pain that she would soon undergo at the hands of her new husband.

Philipp was often away to take care of the political needs of his ruling cousin. However, when he was home, he demanded Reine be an obedient wife in every sense of the word. His disagreeable nature and short temper just compounded their incompatibility, and she had to endure three years of abuse before managing to safely flee. Although her bruises quickly healed, Reine carried her emotional scars with her for a long time afterwards.

She shuddered at the memories as Max pulled the car to a stop in the courtyard. They only got halfway to the large wooden entrance when an old man with hunched shoulders and a large bald spot threw open the door and shuffled towards them. "Massimo Baldovini, è che mio figlio?"

"Si, si! It's me, Signor Antonio." Max ran up to the old man and embraced him. As Reine made her way toward them, she saw that both men had tears of joy in their eyes.

The day really was turning out to be full of the unexpected. Remembering the reason for their visit, she hoped any further surprises would be pleasant ones, but in the pit of her stomach, something told her that was unlikely.