18. Luna
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LUNA
Sitting in the garden at the center of the de Metteil villa, my cup of sweet and tart hibiscus tea next to me on the stone bench, I enjoyed a rare moment of peace. The warm morning light drew delicate scents from the chamomile and mint growing in drifts by my feet, accented by the jasmine blooms from the surrounding bushes, creating a soothing impression on all the senses.
That peace shattered like a dropped plate when a servant cleared her throat at the entrance and said, "Lady Natalina de Bardi to see you. Are you home to visitors?"
To refuse would be rude, but I was tempted. “Of course, I’m home, escort her here. Bring tea for her as well.”
In point of fact, the visitor was being rude in seeking me out rather than Palma, and I’d mention that if she annoyed me. Few things annoyed people more than being schooled on manners, myself included.
Natalina entered with a bright, charming smile, her tall, broad frame dressed in an elegant gown the color of wine, a deep purple red. It suited her warm complexion.
Her brown eyes swept over me, assessing my gown, the simple necklace clasped around my neck, and possibly the perfume I wore. "Lady Lunetta, my dear, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you."
I rose to greet her, masking my curiosity. "Lady Natalina, I didn't expect a visit. Would you like some tea?"
“Certainly!” she smiled as I offered her the cup from the tray of the servant who accompanied her.
I indicated the bench as I sat down again. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Natalina waved a hand dismissively, settling onto the worn stone bench as though she'd known me for years. "Oh, call me Natalina. I couldn't resist checking in on you and Benedetto. I'm an old friend of your mother by marriage, Vala, you see. She speaks so highly of you."
I smiled politely. An old friend of Vala's? The sweet scent of danger suddenly joined the garden’s perfume.
“Please, call me Luna.”
Benedetto entered the garden through the entrance near our room. His expression shifted from neutral to harsh and forbidding when he spotted Natalina seated near me.
"Natalina," he said flatly.
Natalina nodded in his direction, a faint amused smile curving her lips. "Benedetto, darling, it's been too long. You look well. Marriage agrees with you."
"What do you want?" Benedetto leaned against the pillar at the entrance, hooking his hand in his belt. His sword hand. The tension in the room spiked, the air thick with unspoken animosity.
Why was he being so rude?
This woman clearly had influence, and he was acting like a petulant child. Flies were caught with honey, and I could be sweetness itself if it gave me her motives.
"I was just telling your lovely wife how much she's impressed me.” Natalina turned back to me, dismissing Benedetto's hostility. "Vala didn't exaggerate. You're quite the accomplished young woman."
Benedetto caught my eye and smiled. In reaction, a blush crept up my neck, but I maintained my composure. "That's kind of you to say."
"Tell me," Natalina leaned forward slightly, clasping her ringed hands together, "how are you finding the social circles of Kalion? I imagine it must be overwhelming, coming from such a quiet background."
I was annoyed at the cattiness. Society in Kalion never allowed me to forget that I had no money of my own and had been abandoned by first my father and then Benedetto and lived for years on by his mother's charity. Even though I was of higher birth than most of the speakers, they enjoyed rubbing my nose in my history.
My smile turned brittle. "It's certainly different from what I'm used to," I said evenly. "But I'm adapting quickly."
Benedetto scoffed under his breath, muttering, "She adapts too well, if you ask me."
He was trying to provoke me. I clenched my jaw. But why? Was he irritated by Natalina's presence, or just annoyed that I was holding my own?
The conversation turned to more mundane topics, with Natalina congratulating Benedetto on his growing influence in court.
"You've certainly made a name for yourself, Benedetto. I hear the emperor values your counsel highly these days," she said with an approving smile.
Benedetto merely grunted in response, clearly still annoyed by her presence. "I do my duty to the Empire, nothing more."
Natalina laughed lightly. "So modest! Well, I look forward to seeing more of you both. We'll have to attend a few social functions together."
Just then, Palma swept into the room in a rustle of expensive silks. "Ah, I see you've all become acquainted! Splendid. In fact, we're all invited to Cassius de Ducio's supper party tomorrow evening. It will be a marvelous opportunity to see and be seen. And then my husband and I are off to tour his province! So exciting!"
I plastered on a smile, dreading the prospect of being surrounded by the glittering Kalion elite once again. But I knew refusing was not an option in this world. "That sounds lovely, Palma. I appreciate you including us."
At least with them away, there would be no more invitations accepted for me and Benedetto.
The next evening, Benedetto and I arrived at the de Ducio townhouse. It was on the outskirts of Kalion, so we took a carriage rather than a sedan chair. Carriages and carts weren’t permitted in the older sections of the city.
The scent of expensive spices, roasted lamb and chicken and sweet red wine filled the opulent dining room. Old money mingled with rising social climbers from the merchant class, all eager to gossip and make connections.
As we entered the room arm in arm, everyone turned to look at us. I didn’t mind, the mirror told me I looked as well turned out as any of them. I wore a simple but elegant gown of dark blue and silver, borrowed from Palma and hastily altered with swags and flounces of lace trimming at the hem to account for my slightly greater height.
As for Benedetto, his lack of care of other’s opinions was as much a part of him as his black hair.
We’d agreed that for this function, I would sit, appear attractive and naive, and see who approached me and what they said, while Benedetto remained aloof and mysterious, a known quality frowning at all.
Settled on a divan, Benedetto brought me a tiny plate with a few morsels of food on it and a glass of wine then leaned against the wall in his favorite ‘I wish I was anywhere else’ pose.
I smiled demurely and sipped my wine as a man about my age approached.
Slender, with an attractive face, his dark hair was streaked with white in a regular pattern. His clothing, doublet and hose, were dyed an expensive and rich shade that came close to the imperial purple.
He wore rings on each hand and loop earrings set with amethysts that precisely matched the shade of his clothing. Small pearls liked his sleeves and collar, shimmering in the candlelight.
I’d never seen clothing like that in Legnali, even among the very rich.
He smiled at me warmly. “Lady d’Alvarez! I’ve heard so much about you. Please excuse my forwardness. I am Luccio de Galli, at your service.”
Ah. This man, however young and fashionable, was of the highest rank, one step down from the Imperial family, and thus immune to challenges except from those who outranked him. He was probably used to being outrageous, and possibly a good information source.
“There’s nothing to excuse,” I replied demurely. “It’s good to meet you.”
“You are originally of the family de Spoleto, correct? I believe I’m acquainted with your father. He and my father have been friendly for years.”
“I was born to that family, yes.” Had he brought this up to try to be friendly, or was there an insult coming about my father’s scandals? Should I be slightly offended, and see if he tried to coax me into a better mood?
I could feel Benedetto’s eyes on us, as well as several others.
"You know," he reached out and touched my chin, cupping it and tilting my face, "from my father’s description, I see you look just like your mother must have. He mentioned she was quite the beauty in her day, before her unfortunate end."
A cold wave of pain and anger washed over me. Not even the rudest in Legnali had mentioned my mother and her execution. I struggled to keep my pleasant expression, but from the interested gleam in his eye I didn’t succeed. "How very kind of him."
I wanted to hit him, but he outranked me, and I’d only look like a fool.
Before I could say anything more, Benedetto appeared at my side, his expression cold and indifferent. He grabbed the young man by his pearl sewn collar, hauling him to his tiptoes. "You have insulted my wife, pig.”
The room fell silent, and I heard the clicks of several peals hitting the floor from the torn seams as Benedetto twisted the other man’s collar.
Everyone turned to watch the confrontation with unconcealed interest.
The young man gasped, "She doesn't have the rank to challenge me, and you can’t be a proxy for her. And I was just repeating a story I heard."
Benedetto's eyes locked on his, still as cold and indifferent as professional executioner’s might be. "You chose to recall my wife's mother’s death and compare their appearance?" he said. "All but accuse her of being a witch? Our children will have my rank and you’ve insulted them while yet unborn, and I can make you answer for that. It’s a happy coincidence you’ll also answer for insulting my wife’s honor. Let's take this outside where you won’t stain the carpet when you die."
The young man's face had gone red as he clutched Benedetto’s arm, trying to ease the pressure on his throat. He nodded, an enraged grimace distorting his face. Benedetto dropped him and turned on his heel.
I grabbed Benedetto's arm. "Husband, don't, please. It's not worth killing."
Also, it would make it incredibly difficult to get anyone to talk to me so I could gather information. A darker part of me hoped he’d proceed and beat de Galli to a pulp.
He patted my hand, a faint smile crossing his face. "You’re a gracious woman. But no one speaks to you that way. If his heart’s blood is needed for that lesson, so be it."
“I’ll second you,” said an older man.
“Accepted.” Benedetto strolled out into the garden, unsheathing his sword.
The guests whispered excitedly. Another young man, richly dressed, said, “I’ll second you, Luccio. He’s just fought in the provinces. You’ll kick his ass.”
De Galli straightened his clothing and gritted out, “Yes, I will. Only blood will satisfy me.””
The older man followed Benedetto into the garden, spoke with him a moment, and returned.
“He said, ‘with pleasure’.”
I glanced around the room, noting the speculative stares, the barely concealed eagerness for scandal. I had to stop this before it went too far.
Benedetto should not kill important people at our first official function.
I gathered my skirts and hurried into the garden, ignoring the murmurs and laughter that followed me, emerging into the cool night air where Benedetto flicked his sword, and a flower fell to the ground.
He picked it up and offered it to me, shaking his head. The symbolism was not lost on me.
Behind me, de Galli strutted into the garden, the two seconds trailing him.
He stared at Benedetto. “No quarter.”
Benedetto nodded.
My breath caught in my throat. Benedetto was really going through with this.
The guests gathered to watch, whispering avidly. Like the witnesses at my mother’s execution. How dare they treat this like entertainment?
I stood on tiptoe and breathed in Benedetto’s ear, "Please. This is madness. How many places have you had to leave after a killing duel? We need to stay here."
Benedetto turned and gazed at me, his expression blank and hard as marble. "He insulted you. Insulted your mother. Hurt you. I won't let it pass."
He strode forward to meet de Galli. Both of them raised their blades in a salute, and then they engaged.
de Galli’s sword shook as he raised it, whites showing all around his iris.
De Galli lunged forward, his blade flashing in the moonlight. Benedetto beat the sword to the side and smashed his fist into de Galli’s face.
The younger man stumbled forward, and Benedetto circled left and regarded him with boredom. De Galli recovered, bringing his blade up and approached cautiously. Benedetto kept a low guard and when de Galli swung high, used a circular motion to bind the other man’s blade and then a second circle sent it flying.
A quick slash across the disarmed de Galli’s right forearm drew blood, and de Galli screamed, grabbing his arm to stop the flow of blood.
With that wound, he’d never use that hand again without magical intervention.
Blood dripped into the deep grass in the quiet, broken by de Galli’s panting. Benedetto shortened his arm, the tip of his sword at de Galli’s throat. Even the man’s hissing breath stopped, transfixed as he gazed at his death.
Benedetto wasn’t even breathing hard. A sneer curled his lips. “You’re a dead man. In the future, remember that when you’re in my presence or my wife’s. Remember this moment before you gossip about my wife."
He gazed at the gathered crowd. “The next time any of you choose to. Her pleas are the only reason this walking dead man breathes.”
Benedetto grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the gawking crowd. I stumbled after him, my mind reeling. He did this for me . To defend my honor. Defying the entire aristocracy.
He hustled me into the carriage, his grip on my hand tight, almost painful. As soon as we were alone, he rounded on me.
"No one touches you but me," he said with anger and something else, something raw and possessive.
“Remember that.”
I jerked my hand away, my own anger boiling over. "You're the one who's been acting like I’m a burden," I said. "Maybe I should relieve you of the terrible duty of sex with me. A witch’s daughter."
His expression darkened.
Without a word, he hooked his hand in my bodice and yanked down. It gave at the seams, the entire front ripping away from my shoulders, falling away front and back, leaving my breasts and stomach exposed to his gaze.
His hot dark eyes met mine as his hands slid over my skin, calluses rough against smooth flesh. "Is that what you want? To be free of me?"
I shivered, my anger warring with the sudden heat his touch ignited. No, I didn’t want to be free of him. But I didn’t want to be his possession either.
When I leaned into him, he embraced me, and his hand brushed across my back. I froze, remembering too late what he would find. His fingers stilled over the scars that crisscrossed my skin, the long, jagged lines I usually kept hidden.
He jerked back and pulled me forward so he could twist around to look behind my back. "Who did this to you?" he said, his voice raw with a mix of horror and fury.
"My father," I whispered. "It's the price I paid for trying to protect my sister."
His grip on my arms tightened almost painfully. "Luna..."
I braced myself for his reaction, but instead, his anger seemed to melt away. He cupped my face, his touch impossibly gentle as he pressed his forehead to mine.
"I should have protected you," he said.
Tears stung my eyes. He wasn’t revolted by me. He wasn’t turning away.
I leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body seep into mine. For a moment, we just breathed together, the silence heavy with understanding.
"I'm sorry." His lips brushed against my temple. "I didn’t know."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "You didn't want to know me then."
"But I know you now." His hold tightened, as if he could shield me from the past. "And I swear, Luna, no one will ever hurt you like that again. Not as long as I live."
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust in this moment, in the warmth flooding me. But how could I? Could we find a way past all the anger and pain that defined us?
His hands moved down my back, tracing the lines of my scars with a reverence that made my breath catch. From there, he moved to my belly and breasts, his touch gentle and slow. There was no urgency, no rush to claim or conquer. Just a leisurely, steady exploration, as if he was memorizing every inch of my skin.
I closed my eyes, letting sensation wash over me. The rough calluses on his palms against my nipples, the heat of his breath and his tongue followed his hands, the solid weight of him pressing me into the carriage seat. It was almost too much, this sudden tenderness after so much conflict.
Can it last? I didn't know. But I wanted to find out.
I slid my hands up his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath his shirt. He made a low sound in his throat, halfway between a growl and a groan, and shifted to capture my mouth in a searing kiss.
Yes. I lost myself in the taste of him. This is different. This is real.
The carriage stopped.
In a smooth motion, Benedetto swung his cloak to cover me. He stepped out, and when I followed, swept me off my feet and carried me to our room.