'No!' said Faro sharply. 'I'm not staying.' He took her hand. 'I want - desperately - just to be with you again,’ he whispered. ‘To have you all to myself and that means without Lisa. The Colonel was to send you a telegraph at Heidelberg - that I had arrived.'
That pleased her. 'And me not even there. Sure now, that was a good thing your plans were delayed.' She looked at him impishly and nodded towards the door. 'The other lad is waiting for you. I saw him as I came in. Said he wanted a word.'
In answer Faro went over to Amelie and Melissa, bowed and held out his hand. 'Goodbye, Amelie.'
He hoped she was not going to cry for her voice trembled as she said, 'Please see George before you go.'
Melissa took his hand in a strong grip. 'You are not really going to leave us so soon, Mr Faro,' she whispered. Her eyelids fluttered seductively. 'We have only just met.'
Faro bowed. ‘I hope to see you again - in ‘Fidelio’’
George was waiting for him. 'Mama said you must go. That you couldn't stay for a while.' He had none of his mother's restraint, none of that adult world of dissembling had touched his childish sorrow at losing Faro.
'It's so unfair.' And putting his thin arms around Faro he sobbed. ‘You are so good and true, not like - that - beast, who ill-used my mother, and Anton's mother too. I hate him. I’d give everything in the world to have had you as my father, to say that word - just once.'
It was said, it hung in the air between them. Too late Faro's hand covered gently the boy's mouth. 'No, Highness, no,' he whispered. 'You - we - must never think about it.'
And George threw his arms around Faro again. 'It is you who will always be my father-image that I shall carry when I'm a man. You, I will try to be like. I want so much for you to be proud of me.'
'I am so proud of you, George. And will always be,' said Faro as he hugged the boy to him, stroked his cheek then gently released him. And he thought that the pain in his heart at this parting was greater than any physical agony he had ever suffered.
'We will meet again - some day. Promise!' George whispered.
'No, lad. I can't promise you that, but I can promise I'll never forget the bravest prince that ever lived.'
'May I write to you, then?' George asked, fighting back the tears.
'Please do, as often as you can. Goodbye, lad.'
'Goodbye - ' and the whispered ever-forbidden word followed him.
Only once, but Faro would remember it always.
Imogen waited outside, his battered valise at her feet. As they walked into the winter sunshine, she took his arm, aware that his emotions were running high, that this man who rarely wept was very close to it now.
'That's a fine young lad. We had a chat. A very interesting encounter. Do you know, he reminds me very much of someone - ' she added archly. 'If only I could think who - or, more important, when and why.'
Faro looked at her sharply, wondering how much she had guessed or been told by Lisa who was Amelie's confidant.
She squeezed his hand gently, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. 'I'm glad I came and met Amelie at last.'
It was a sign. She knew. But his secret was safe with her. She knew her own place in his life was unchallenged and would remain so.
'You must tell me all about your adventures. All of them, I mean. Leave nothing out,' she laughed.
'Sometime - maybe,' he said wearily.
She smiled up at him. 'Whither now, Faro?'
'Whither indeed. I wish I knew. Meanwhile, I think the next train to Heidelberg.'
And both exiles of a sort, they walked arm in arm towards the waiting carriage…
