He put up his hand to pull her hat from her head so that he could touch the shining glory of her hair and she felt that her whole body melted into his and they were one person, each indivisible from the other.
Finally the King raised his head again to say gently,
“We are free, my precious one, and alive!”
Xenia hid her face against his shoulder.
“I thought – we must – die,” she whispered.
“I thought so too,” the King admitted. “How could I have known – how could I have guessed – that he was a murderer at heart?”
“I knew he was – horrible and – evil the first time I – touched his hand,” Xenia murmured.
The King straightened his shoulders.
“The world will be a better place without him,” he said, “but you realise, my darling, that no one and I mean no one, must ever know how he died.
