Juno dei Luni
She couldn’t abide weakness of any kind, and as she watched her husband, and their two children—where was Saturnino?
—she thought of their flaws. Fortuna, sitting in one of the plush chairs, was vain and placed far more importance on her appearance than was necessary.
Marco, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, pursued glory, but he was clumsy and foolish and easily distracted.
Her lip curled at the sight of him: split lip, bruised cheek, swollen eye.
Marco lacked finesse. Juno moved on to her husband, who saw only the big picture, and ignored the details.
He missed nuance, innuendo, whispered conversation, backroom dealings.
And then there was Saturnino.
She was beginning to understand the greatest of all his weaknesses.
The door slammed open, and Saturnino stormed into the room with a look of supreme irritation. In his arms he carried, of all things, a black cat. “I was told to come. Urgent, the note said.”
Juno studied his bedraggled appearance, quite unlike him. Her gaze briefly flicked to Marco. “Where have you been? And why are you carrying that creature?”
“I’m here now.” He stroked underneath the cat’s chin. “What the hell couldn’t wait until morning?”
Fortuna indicated behind him. “Look behind you.”
Saturnino glanced over his shoulder. Three servants lined the wall; they stood huddled next to their steward, who Juno had thought competent but was now reconsidering her opinion. The steward was as useless as most humans.
“What’s happened?” Saturnino asked.
“We’ve discovered Ravenna’s statue has gone missing,” Signor Luni said. “Sometime during the banquet, it disappeared while we were all dancing and making merry. We’ve summoned Tomasso and the three servers who were present from beginning to end.”
“Ravenna herself went missing,” Fortuna said, watching Saturnino closely. “Do you know where she went?”
Saturnino coolly arched a brow at Marco. Juno read it as a warning. “She was with me.”
“Not the whole time, she wasn’t,” Marco snapped. “Since when is she worth protecting, fratello?”
“Children,” Juno snapped. “We have a problem. That statue held a Nightflame, and now it’s missing. Such a valuable item cannot leave this palazzo. It can be used in any manner of ways against us and the Medici, as you all know.”
“Tomasso,” Signor Luni said. “How have you allowed this?”
“I regret to tell you that I don’t know how this happened,” the steward said. “We were busy attending to the many guests—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Juno snapped. “I want to hear from the other three.” She snapped her fingers. “You, the one in the middle. When did you first notice the statue went missing?”
The servant lifted her gaze, not enough to look her in the eyes. “The musicians had begun to play in earnest and many of the guests were dancing. We were clearing the plates, I noticed it then.”
“Why wasn’t one of us told right away?” Fortuna demanded. “Why wait until after the guests left?”
“That was my fault,” Tomasso said. “I thought perhaps it had been cleared away to be stored once more in the gallery. Other matters took precedence, there was still the dessert course to set out.”
“You should have informed us immediately,” Signor Luni said coldly.
Tomasso flushed. “Well, you were all busy, entertaining your guests. I didn’t think—”
“That much is very clear,” Juno said.
“Someone has also stolen from me,” Fortuna announced. “Plants from my garden.”
“You grow poison,” Juno said, aghast. “When did you notice the theft?”
“It’s been happening a little at a time,” Fortuna admitted. “Small amounts. I thought perhaps I was mistaken at first, but…” Her voice trailed off, pale blue eyes bright with anger.
“What do you think, Saturnino?” Juno asked.
An angry flush stole over Marco’s cheeks, and his hands balled into fists at his side. Juno didn’t have the patience to soothe his temper or his feelings of being slighted. It was unfortunate that he didn’t have the mind that Saturnino did.
“Not one of our guests could have taken the statue,” Saturnino said quietly.
“And no one was allowed to enter without an invitation, our guards saw to that. It seems we have a thief in our midst. One of the servants, perhaps.” He shot an uneasy look at the steward.
“You’ll have to round them all up, question them. ”
Tomasso nodded. “It will be done, tonight.”
“It could have been Ravenna herself,” Fortuna said stubbornly. “She left the banquet. I didn’t see her for the rest of the night.”
Saturnino shot Marco a lethal glance, daring him to contradict him. “As I said, Ravenna was with me.”
Marco surged toward him, his hands curled into fists. “Why don’t you tell them the rest? Why don’t you tell them what she did?”
“What has the human done?” Juno asked.
Saturnino waved off her question with a dismissive wave. “Marco’s paranoia has him imagining monsters where there are none.”
Juno narrowed her eyes. He was trying to hide it, but she could detect the strain in his voice, the tight lines at the corners of his eyes. Even now, he held on to the feline as if she were a comfort to him. She’d never seen Saturnino behave so … so … emotionally.
It disturbed her.
“You’re spending quite a bit of time with the girl, aren’t you?” Signor Luni asked, looking at him closely.
Saturnino flashed his father a wicked grin. “That was the whole point, wasn’t it?”
“It should have been,” Fortuna countered. “You were supposed to lure her to our side, to make her love you, not fall in love yourself.”
Silence descended; terrible, smothering silence.
“No,” Juno said. “It’s not possible.” Her gaze roved over his face; it looked different. No longer perfect, impenetrable, impervious. Tired eyes looked haunted. Cheeks flushed with a hint of blue. Feverish, as if he were caught in a sudden swell of emotion.
For the first time, Juno thought Saturnino a fool.
“You want to know what I think happened to Ravenna’s statue?” Saturnino said, his voice edged in ice. “One of you took it.”
A roar sounded in Juno’s head, a wave crashing against her skull. She studied the faces of her family, trying to think above the rushing noise. Could it be true? Could one of them have taken it for themselves?
Fortuna leaned forward in her chair, her hands gripping the armrests. “For what purpose?”
“The statue holds a Nightflame,” Saturnino said. “Isn’t it obvious? The spell is coming to an end. One of you might be trying to save yourself. A desperate attempt to reverse our fate.”
Signor Luni’s expression darkened. “And who among us would be that reckless?” His voice shook from anger. “To act alone? To risk my wrath?”
“I can think of at least one person,” Saturnino replied, lips curving faintly. “In fact, he’s in this room right now.”
“You bastard—” Marco snarled.
“You’re trying to sow discord among us,” Fortuna said, rising. “That’s all this is. You want us to turn our attention away from your little sculptress—”
“Enough,” Juno said. “Tomasso, pick one of the servants, one whose work is least satisfactory. One must be made an example of, we can’t have word spreading that anyone could steal from us and live.”
All the blood drained from Tomasso’s face, but he nodded, his gaze shooting to the servant tucked close to his side.
“That one, then,” Juno said.
Her husband motioned for Tomasso to take the others away. “Tell the rest of the staff thievery will not be abided and punishment is a death sentence.”
Tomasso nodded and hastened out of the room, the other two servants at his heels.
The doomed servant fell to his knees, his hands lifted in surrender.
A horrible display of sobbing followed. We don’t have time for this, Juno thought.
It was already late, and they still had to question countless others.
“Do the honors, Saturnino,” Juno intoned.
She expected him to comply; he usually did. But instead of reaching for the slim dagger she knew he always kept on him, Saturnino stared back at her, hesitating, still clutching the ridiculous creature in his arms.
“Take him outside and do it,” Juno said. “Now, son.”
His eyes darkened in stubborn refusal. “None of the servants will tell the truth after this. They will be too afraid.”
“You’re wrong,” Fortuna said. “You’ve said it yourself: fear is a great motivator.”
“What’s the matter, Saturnino? Are you going soft?
” Marco jeered. “Have you forgotten what you are?” He stepped forward, his hand already gripping his sword.
With one thrust he slammed the blade into the man’s gut.
The servant slumped forward, blood pouring out of him in long spurts.
It spread across the stone, staining it horribly.
Saturnino clenched his jaw and turned his back on them, walking out of the room and taking his pet with him.
“Marco.” Juno rubbed her temple and sighed. “Couldn’t you have taken him outside first?”