CHAPTER TWO
My premonition of disaster had been minuscule compared to this reality.
Prince Escalus Leonardi the Younger, podestà of Verona, had trusted his much beloved little sister to the care of my parents, and my own sister Katherina had guided her on a dangerous bacchanal that ended in some kind of calamity, the severity of which I had yet to determine. But no matter what, if a breath of this leaked out, the Montague family would be disgraced and perhaps exiled.
“Yes, but I jumped at the chance!” Isabella turned to me and defended her friend. “Really I did. I’ve never been part of such an exciting family. Your father teaches me how to use a sword. Your mother helps me learn how to listen to people. Your brother and sisters are funny and smart and brave. The palace is so quiet. Nonna Ursula is kind, but she always says what she thinks and sometimes I don’t want to know. Escalus is a good brother who wants me to be happy, but he’s staid and somber—”
No other word for it. I grunted as if I’d been punched in the gut.
“—Yes, I know. He talks to you, I’m so sorry, because when does he ever say something interesting?” Isabella took my hand and patted it. “Thank you for being good to him, Rosie, and not rolling your eyes when he speaks, for he worried about you while you recovered from your wounds.”
I was speechless at the thoughtlessness of youth...and at the same time, I wondered when, at the creaking old age of twenty, I’d grown so aware of duty and responsibilities. I suppose, because I’m the eldest, I was forced into that mold, but at the same time, to the despair of my parents, in the past I’d had my rebellious moments.
I had.
I had!
“Good to hear.” I barely moved my lips, which were still tender from this evening’s—what should I call it?—unbelievable, ridiculous, humbling horrible misstep involving Prince Staid and Somber.
Have I mentioned humiliating?
“That first night, I had so much fun!” Isabella squeezed my hand.
“That first night, you were such a sissy!” Katherina teased.
“Yes, but I got over it.” Isabella poked her with her elbow. “I swagger better than you do.”
“Do not.”
Isabella swaggered across the room. “Do too.”
She was very good.
“Remember when I bit my thumb at those boys?” she asked.
They both fell into a fit of giggles.
However, I wasn’t in the mood. “You girls could have been hurt. They could have drawn swords!”
“They did. And you know what we did?” Isabella spoke while both hopped up and down.
Was there ever anything sillier than young girls on the verge of womanhood? And more inclined to step right into danger? “Sweet Madonna, what?”
Katherina finished triumphantly, “What Papà told us to do. We counted our legs and when we got to two, we ran!”
I slumped against the wall in relief, not at all amused by Papà’s ancient jest.
“The second night—” Isabella began.
My heart stopped. “There was a second night?” Of course there was a second night. Tonight. Something had happened tonight to send them into a dither.
“The second night was even more fun,” she said, as if that was reason enough for more risk of danger and dishonor. “The second night we—”
“Wait.” My vision zeroed in on the manly display between their legs. “Did you stuff your codpieces?”
“No, Rosie, we grew pizzles overnight.” Katherina rolled her eyes. “Of course we stuffed our codpieces. Just like the men do!”
Isabella sniggered.
These girls were making me feel as neverendingly somber and appropriate as...Prince Escalus.
I winced. Why did everything conspire to remind me of him?
Isabella said, “We ventured into a public house and drank wine—”
I clutched my throat.
“Rosie, stop being so boring,” Katherina said impatiently. “They thought we were stupid youths and watered the wine. They cheated us, and that was fine because we were not drenched, or even tiddled.”
“Right.” I translated. They weren’t intoxicated. That was one relief.
“After that, we danced in the square, we sang ribald songs, we swaggered some more and, on the way home, we almost got robbed!” Isabella couldn’t have been more thrilled.
I hyperventilated until Katherina shoved a stool under my rear and warned, “You haven’t heard the bad part yet.”
“You were robbed? You lost something of value?” Even to me, my voice sounded thready.
“No! I mean yes, but not that night.” Katherina dismissed the second night robbery as unimportant. “Tonight was when we were robbed and...” She exchanged a miserable glance with Isabella.
Dear sweet Jesus and his holy mother Mary, this was my fault. I had wished and prayed that I be released from the results of my own act of stupidity, and three nights of girlish freedom and ensuing disaster was the result.
That fraught reasoning was so dramatic it was worthy of one of my siblings or even my parents...but not me. Not practical, mature Rosie who until recently managed her own life and everyone else’s with adept skill. How that had changed, how I’d landed on this rocky shoal slapped by ever-increasing cold and briny waves, I did not know.
I took myself in hand and firmly told myself tonight was not about me. I must grope my way away from self-pity and back to logic. “Dear girls, why don’t you tell me, in short easy words, exactly what you did tonight that causes you such apprehension?”