Chapter 25
Capitolo Venticinque
Ravenna paused at the entrance to the great hall, taken aback by the glimmering splendor.
Moonlight bathed the space in a silvery, incandescent glow, illuminating the painted high ceilings depicting mythological heroes battling sea monsters, taming hydras, and exploring forested trails.
Glistening sculptures made of spun sugar sat on top of shimmering silk tablecloths that rippled gently from the cool breeze coming in through the windows.
Glass-paneled doors opened to a paved patio, adorned by a large fountain at its center.
Guests chatted merrily in intimate groups while a small ensemble played a gentle melody on lutes and harpsichords.
A prickle of awareness nipped the back of her neck.
She shifted, her eyes connecting with a pair of dark green eyes from across the room.
They flared at the full sight of her, the exact color of the dress she wore.
The fabric stopped at the curve of her shoulders, leaving a smooth expanse of skin bare.
The rest of her gown slipped down her body in a soft whisper; it was a dress meant to draw men to their knees.
Ravenna returned Saturnino’s gaze.
He was a man who would never bend his knee for anyone.
Saturnino wore deep red, from head to toe, and the color suited him. It made his more ruthless nature rise to the surface, giving his smile an edge, his arms a bruising strength. His hair was damp, as if he’d just come from a bath.
He looked inhumanly beautiful.
And he was surrounded by several young women, each dressed in shimmering jewel tones. Peridot, ruby, sapphire, emerald. Her attention flickered to each one before landing back onto Saturnino. He lifted his chin in a challenge, as if to say: I’m not yours, and never will be.
Ravenna knew it to be true.
She raised an eyebrow and said back: I never asked you to be.
He blinked in surprise, then smiled, slow and tender. A fissure split down her middle, as if she existed in two realities: the time before she knew Saturnino, and the time after, when he shared glimpses of the cold heart that still beat a steady rhythm.
Signor Luni and his lady approached Ravenna, blocking all view of their son. She forced a greeting in welcome, pushing Saturnino out of her mind. It was a shame she couldn’t do the same thing with her heart. But he’d snuck inside, and now there was no removing him.
Unless he tried to kill her.
I’d endeavor to rid myself of my doomed attraction then, she thought wryly.
“Signorina Ravenna,” Signor Luni exclaimed. “What a lovely creature you are.”
“That color is very becoming on you,” Signora Luni agreed.
Fortuna joined their group. “Astonishing how it pairs well with that unusual hair color.”
Signor Luni held out his arm, and Ravenna accepted, her smile locked in place. “Lorenzo wants to present you to his wife.”
Ravenna looked past him, to where a group of three people waited.
Two gentlemen, middle-aged, and a lady nearly so.
Ravenna locked eyes with Lorenzo de’ Medici, and she felt the familiar anger curdling deep in her belly as she cataloged his features.
The Roman nose, dark eyes and hair, thin mouth.
He was not a handsome man, but he had an arresting quality that commanded notice.
An innate confidence, an air of curiosity, clothed in sumptuous fabric, and pretty manners.
He looked the same as he had on the day she’d first met him and made her demands.
He was still her enemy, even if she was beginning to understand why he loathed the pope.
His lady wife stood close to his side, a light hand on his elbow.
She matched his elegance, a beautiful companion to the portrait he presented, a man in his prime with the city of Florence under his expensive heel.
She dipped her chin a fraction, wide eyes curiously lit onto Ravenna, the newcomer to her proverbial kingdom.
Saturnino appeared next to her, a thorn in her side.
She felt his cool presence as if she’d opened a window during a winter night: cold air howling around her and the kiss of snow on her skin.
But then he drew one step closer to her, until his arm brushed against the sleeve of her gown, and for a moment, it felt as if he had come to stand with her so she wouldn’t face her enemies alone.
But that was ridiculous, surely.
Greetings were exchanged, and when that was finally over, Signor Luni gestured toward Ravenna and said to Signora Medici, “This is Signorina Ravenna’s first visit to the city, not that she’s been able to see any of it. She has been dedicated to her work.”
“Well, I hope she’ll have time to see the best of what Florence has to offer,” Signora Medici said, her manner polite.
“Don’t worry, signora, we brought most of it to her,” Saturnino said wryly, splaying his hand, gesturing to the center of the banquet hall where several troubadours were performing acrobatics midair, flipping and twisting through glittering rings and fiery hoops.
Their gowns were bright, etched in embroidery depicting blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies, fat bumblebees, and lush trees.
“I’ve been unspeakably rude in not presenting my friend, Signorina Ravenna,” Lorenzo de’ Medici announced. “Allow me to introduce Galeazzo Sforza, Duca of Milan.”
Ravenna slowly turned to face the man she was meant to lure out to the bridge.
He was a man of refined taste and elegance, wearing a blue brocade stitched with metallic lilies, but no amount of tailoring could soften his harsh features and intense eyes.
He dipped his chin, a respectful gesture, but the curl of his lip hinted at a sinister edge.
His gaze lingered on her bare shoulders, traveling lower to her collarbones before settling on the swell of her breasts.
He lifted his eyes, peeking coyly at her through thick lashes. “Signorina Ravenna, I’m enchanted.”
He drew out the last word into an unsettling caress.
She gritted her teeth and thought of her family. Her soul. She flashed Signor Sforza a shy smile and then quickly glanced down in a manner that her own mother would approve of: shy, unassuming, demure.
Next to her, Saturnino stiffened, and she felt the weight of his gaze. Ravenna kept her attention where it ought to be. It pained her to smile at Galeazzo Sforza, disgusted her to see his answering grin, sly and knowing.
Ravenna forced the words out. “The honor is mine, Vostra Grazia.”
“I hope you’ll allow me a dance,” he returned, and his voice had turned husky, as if he’d drawn a curtain around them, isolating her from the others. Acid coated her tongue; she could only nod. But it was enough. She had caught his interest.
His evening belonged to her now.
“Well now,” Lorenzo said. “It’s nice to see you at least trying to enjoy yourself, Galeazzo. You’ve been much too serious of late.”
“Given the state of the world, I would think you’d understand why,” Signor Sforza returned dryly. His eyes flickered back to Ravenna. “But I thank you for dragging me to Florence. It has been a much-needed respite with many pleasures to offer.”
His marked interest in Ravenna seemed to amuse Signor Medici, as if he were used to his friend’s wandering eye.
“What brings you to Florence, Vostra Grazia?” Ravenna asked. “Are you here for business?” She swallowed hard and forced herself to add, “Or is it only pleasure you seek?”
Signor Sforza grinned at her, appreciative, and in his eyes, Ravenna could already see how he was imagining spending the evening with her. Twirling around the ballroom before sneaking her out into the back patio, finding a secluded spot …
It took everything in her not to shudder.
“There is always time for both,” he said easily.
For a man who had both wealth and a dukedom, Ravenna believed it. “How long will you be visiting Florence?”
“I’m afraid matters at home require my attention,” he said. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
Her throat went dry. There would be no second chances if she failed.
“So soon?” Signora Luni exclaimed. “I thought you meant to stay for the rest of the month.”
Signor Sforza inclined his head regretfully. “I’m afraid not, signora.”
“Leonardo has made much progress on his designs,” Signor Luni commented. “And it was good of you to bring him tonight.”
Ravenna’s gaze flew to Signor Luni, her mind recalling the intriguing sketches she’d seen.
The artist had been a bundle of barely contained energy and ideas, a young visionary who only needed to have the time and space to put his thoughts down to paper.
Her eyes traveled across the hall in search of Leonardo until she finally found him by the banquet tables.
He was dressed in a black-and-green doublet and peering at a familiar statue that had been placed as the centerpiece.
It was familiar because it was hers.
Her breath caught; she’d nearly forgotten about her Pluto, still adorned by a single Nightflame that glimmered blue fire in the soft, golden lighting.
Signora Medici groaned in mock consternation. “Please do not mention him, signore, or else Lorenzo will not speak of anything else for the rest of the night.”
Ravenna dragged her attention back to the conversation.
“Leonardo da Vinci,” Signor Medici said, his tone mild, “is a young man on the verge of genius and greatness. We will go down in history, mark my words, for not only discovering his talent, but nurturing it. Did I happen to tell you of his latest invention, tesoro?”
“Only several times,” she said with a little sigh.
Signor Medici raised his wife’s arm and gently kissed the back of her hand. “I am, as ever, eternally grateful for your support in these matters, Signora Medici,” he said with a rueful smile.
“But as a matter of fact,” Signor Sforza said to Signor Luni, “there has been a new development.” He glanced at Ravenna pointedly. “But perhaps we ought not to bore the ladies with such talk. Find me later, signore.”