Chapter 10
Capitolo Dieci
Saturnino had murdered Capitano Lombardi.
Ravenna’s mind grappled with the new information. In the short time since she’d first met the knight, he’d killed not one, but two people. One right in front of her. She was haunted by how she had done nothing to help. She hadn’t even made a sound.
But what could she have done?
Saturnino had killed the man in seconds.
Her situation was worse than she realized.
Exhaustion pulled her toward the lavish expanse of the bed, and she stretched across it on her back.
Her gaze latched on to the view above her.
For all her life, Ravenna had stared up at the same ceiling, the notched wooden beams as familiar to her as the lines that ran across her palm.
She’d drift to sleep with the sounds of soft snoring coming from Tereza, her little body curled around her for warmth.
Ravenna would run her fingers through her sister’s hair, lazily untangling knots.
The ceiling above was a stranger to her.
It was far finer than the one from home, ornate and heavily adorned by golden filigree, with lavish swirls painted in various shades of red and orange and green.
Every few years, Ravenna visited the tailor to purchase new fabric to outfit their family.
New tunics for the twins, Giovanni and Stefano, a new overdress for Tereza.
They were all growing quickly. Her favorite part of the errand was reading the names of the fabric shipped from Florence.
Fanciful names like cherry, lung, and flicker.
Rosso ciliegia, il pulmone, la fiametta.
Festivity, laurel, shadow of the umbrella, and her personal favorite, mud of Paris.
Festichino, verde lauro, scuro d’ombrello, fango di Parigi.
Ravenna whispered the names of the rainbow, tethering herself to home with every breath.
She swept her hand across the expanse of her new bed, the bedding soft under her palm.
Silk covered the windows. Brocade panels covered the four walls surrounding her.
She’d never been more comfortable in all her life.
And yet dread curled around her, sinking beneath her cold skin.
Ravenna clamped her lips together in frustration.
Her gaze landed on the door as a sudden thought struck her.
She dragged herself off the bed and marched to it.
One tug of the golden latch confirmed she’d been locked inside.
Her frustration morphed into anger. She stared at the keyhole as she reached into her scarsella, withdrawing the thin carving knife from the slim leather case.
She dropped to her knees and worked the lock until she heard a soft snick.
With a gentle push, the door swung, opening to the darkened corridor. It seemed to stretch for miles.
Well, she had a way out of her room at least.
But where would she go in a city she’d never been? With no money or connections? How would she get out of the palazzo, with its many halls and staircases, twists and turns? And if by God’s grace she was able to get out of Florence, where could she go for sanctuary?
She couldn’t run back to her family. Volterra would bar her entry, even though she was a daughter of the city. Even though the people of Volterra had known her all her life, she was tainted by the magic she had inherited.
She slowly stood and wavered at the threshold.
With a little sigh, Ravenna shut the door as she turned back toward the bed.
In seconds she’d curled herself into a ball, dragging the lush coverings over her.
It was foolish and impractical to try and escape that night, bumbling her way out of the palazzo and straight into the arms of a watchful guard, or worse—Saturnino.
What she needed was a way back home, but how could she earn Volterra’s forgiveness?
What could she do to make them welcome her back?
Her mind spun, discarding one idea and then another.
If only she could defend the city in some way, rid its streets of Florentine guards.
If only she could solve the problem of Lorenzo de’ Medici.
Ravenna sat upright, her heart thundering hard against her ribs.
She was in Florence.
The seat of power and home of the Medici family.
What if she could somehow secure a meeting with him? What if she could force the politician to leave Volterra alone? No more curfew, no more of his wretched guards stalking the streets. Maybe she could return home to a city that no longer despised her but was thankful for her intervention?
It would be a miracle for a powerful man like him to even listen to her.
How would she manage it?
Ravenna threaded her hands through her hair, untangling the ends.
It was worth it for her to try something, anything, rather than feeling powerless and helpless in her present situation.
But it wasn’t exactly true, was it? The Luni family needed her.
That meant she had power. Leverage to use at the negotiating table.
All the pieces were there, she only had to figure out how they all fit together.
Once she did, she could fight for a way back to her life.
A knock on the door jarred Ravenna awake from a fitful sleep. She blinked against the sharp, stabbing light the silk coverings failed to keep out. She sat up slowly, painfully aware that she’d slept in her dirty blue overdress. The hem had dried stiff and the fabric dug into her stocking-clad legs.
“Signorina Ravenna?”
“Yes,” she called, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Come in.”
A girl with dark, curly hair pushed the paneled door open, swinging toward Ravenna.
She was close to Antonio’s age, if Ravenna had to guess, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, and dressed in a serviceable wool dress dyed a pale blue shade.
No doubt a nod to the Luni family colors.
She had rosy cheeks and eyes that brimmed with curiosity as she regarded Ravenna, still abed even though the morning had come and gone.
“Buongiorno,” the maid said in a soft, girlish voice. “I have come to help you dress for the meeting with the family.”
Ravenna puckered her brow, sliding off the bed, her stiff wool dress sliding up her thighs. “Meeting?”
“You are required to share a meal with the famiglia. They are expecting you in the dining room.”
Ravenna grimaced. “Fine. What would you recommend for the occasion?”
The maid strode to a large wooden wardrobe, the doors painted in a riot of flowers. Colorful butterflies hovered on the delicate petals. She threw them open and pulled out a cream camicia, the straps and hem made of lace.
“A hot bath first,” the maid said, studying Ravenna’s disheveled hip-length hair.
Ravenna nodded. “I’d like your name first, if you please.”
The maid tilted her head, peering at her owlishly. “My name? Why do you wish to know?” The maid sounded partly suspicious, partly afraid. As if Ravenna had some imagined reason to complain about her work already.
“I’d like to know how to address you,” Ravenna said in the same tone she used with Giovanni when he couldn’t sleep during a thunderstorm. The noise scared him, and it was Ravenna’s lulling voice that could always lure him back to sleep. “And it’s good manners.”
She was rewarded with a shy smile in return. “I am Imelda, your lady’s maid.”
Ravenna smiled. “Now you may order a bath.”
Her maid pulled a velvet cord hanging by the bed, and as Ravenna was ushered into the connecting bathroom, she heard another maid enter the bedroom. Imelda issued instructions while Ravenna undressed behind a large screen. Several more servants came with water and filled the tub.
“That was fast.” Ravenna stepped into the hot water, letting out a delighted hum. “Bliss.”
“What color would you like to wear?” Imelda called out from the other side of the screen.
“What are my options?”
Imelda sounded amused. “All of them.”
“Your pick,” Ravenna called back.
When Ravenna stepped out of the bathroom, Imelda placed a soft green wool gown in Ravenna’s hand. It was embroidered with gold thread and had pearl embellishments along the collar. “It will go prettily with your hair. An unusual color. Sort of brown and gold and red.”
“Grazie,” she said. “How long have you worked for the Luni family?”
“A year or so,” Imelda said. “I heard you are from Volterra?”
She nodded. “Are you as well?”
“My nonna,” Imelda said, retrieving a pair of dyed leather shoes. “She is my favorite person in the whole world.”
The tight feeling in Ravenna’s chest eased somewhat. She’d felt it ever since arriving to the palazzo, but Imelda’s quiet and thoughtful conversation soothed her. It felt like kinship. “What has your experience been like with the immortal family?”
Imelda blinked. “No one has ever asked me that.”
Ravenna studied her maid, wondering if she could be trusted.
Normally she would take better care with someone she just met, but her situation was precarious and she needed all the help she could get.
Who better than a servant of the palazzo who saw everything?
Especially one with ties to Volterra. “I won’t insult you by pretending you don’t know the details about my capture. ”
Imelda flushed. “You made an impression in Florence with your arrival.”
Ravenna nodded, unsurprised. It was what the Luni family had set out to do, she just didn’t know why. “What can you tell me about them?”
Imelda hesitated.
Ravenna reached forward, lightly taking her hand. “Per favore.”
Imelda made a turning motion with her hand and Ravenna complied. “I spend very little time interacting with any of them. But they are a close family, guarded, and don’t often talk in front of the servants.”
Ravenna let Imelda dress her and kept quiet, hoping it would invite her to speak more.
“The countess is beautiful but I wouldn’t dare cross her,” Imelda continued. “Marco is surly and rarely at home. And as for Cavaliere Saturnino…”
A knot coiled tight in Ravenna’s stomach at the sound of his name. “Yes?”