Perhaps you just love to feel guilty about everything?his dragon poked him. As if getting sass from his children wasn't bad enough, his dragon was an inner voice he could do without arguing with. Cosimo wanted it to go away for good and stop pestering him with all the thoughts that were rudely interrupting him all the time.
You only hate it because I say all the things you need to hear, the beast prodded him again. With a burst of frustration, Cosimo drained his coffee and got up.
"I'm going to walk into the city. If you portal, don't get caught," he said and looked about the kitchen. "Make sure this mess is cleaned up before you go."
"You don't want to walk with us?" Yelena asked with a bit of a pout.
Valentine kissed her hand. "He needs to think, baby."
Cosimo shot him a grateful look and headed outside. It was cool but not cold enough to need a jacket, especially if he was walking. He breathed deeply, letting the garden paths soothe him as he headed for the gate.
His nose and hearing were more sensitive now that his dragon was awake. He was stronger and had taken to training with the rest of his family. Being a part of his wider family of fae, elves, and wolves meant that trouble was never far behind them.
Despite what his children seemed to think, Cosimo wasn't foolish enough to go to his meeting unprepared. He made sure the knife in its sheath at his lower back was covered and not noticeable under his button-up shirt.
The fae could make a dagger blade as thin as a leaf when they wanted to, and after Apollo had been kidnapped, Cosimo didn't go anywhere unarmed. Magic was easier for him to use in a fight, but he couldn't rely on it in case it failed.
Cosimo told Henry he would be polite to thestregacontact, but that didn't mean he was going to forget the stories his mother had told him.
Rosetta Greatdrakes had been born in Vincenza and had been raised by herstregheaunties. There were many shades of gray when it came to people who did folk magic and who practiced the darker branches of it.
She told him tales of theBenandanti, 'The Good Walkers,' who had shamanic practices and would help undo spells and enchantments that had been cast by darkerstreghe.
There were women who could removemalocchio, the evil eye, and other curses orfatture,but claimed what they practiced had nothing to do withstregoneria. They practicedBenedicaria, which was a type of Catholic Folk magic and involved petitioning saints, angels, and various Madonnas they worshipped.
She had told Cosimo and Maria stories of fairies, gods, good witches, and serpents living in the rivers and lagoons of Veneto.
All her stories came with a warning: never trust any witch or sorcerer you first meet because you don't know if they mean harm or not.
Appearances meant nothing, and a widow who went to Mass every day could be the most malicious person in the village, just as a beautiful woman who could lure any man with a smile wasn't necessarily an enchantress.
The men could be worse than all the women put together, but of course, throughout history, they got away with it more. His mother had been very vocal on that point.
Cosimo had thought his mother was exaggerating her stories and was just superstitious until one day a woman had complimented Maria on how pretty she was. She touched her dark curls and pinched her cheeks when they had been out walking in Venice on a family holiday. They had thought nothing of it. Just a kindly lady wanting to say hello.
An hour later, Maria had a migraine so bad that she had to stop and throw up in the nearest canal. Cosimo had been forced to take her back to the apartment they had been staying in. Rosetta had taken one look at her daughter and had ushered her into the kitchen. Cosimo would never forget the anger on his mother's face when she demanded to know what had happened.
"Who touched my baby, Cosimo!" she had shouted at him.
She got even angrier after hearing about the woman and her compliments. "Fucking witch, she put the evil eye on my girl," she had snarled. Then she had wrapped a red ribbon aroundMaria's head, over her forehead and temples, and had started to pray to her saints and Holy Mother.
Cosimo could still recall the hard whispers of her voice as she began her chant,Sande Dunate, lu dolore de lu cape. Sande Silvestre, lu dolore de la teste… She marked crosses over Maria's forehead with each prayer she finished. The headache had disappeared minutes later, and after that, neither Cosimo nor his sister dared to tease their mother about being superstitious again.
Cosimo walked down the winding road leading to the city, his hands in his pockets, replaying his memories of his mother and Maria.
She had been interested in their mother's practices but also had to go deeper because that was the way she was built. She wanted to know the magic the Etruscans were practicing. The journals and research that he had gone through in her tower had revealed that she was more obsessed than she had been letting on.
Cosimo was so lost in thought that he soon found himself in a crowd of shoppers and tourists as he crossed the Ponte Vecchio Bridge.
Old magic pulsed under his feet, the city greeting him in its own unique way.
"Mia bella donna Firenze," he whispered under his breath, offering up a drop of his magic to the city's own in fond reply. Some of the tension in his shoulders loosened, his mood lifting like it always did when he walked Florence's narrow streets.
There was a line already gathered outside the Uffizi, so Cosimo cast a quick cantrip to make him forgettable. He walked through the doors with a smile at the security guard, and she gave him one back before letting him inside without a ticket or an argument.
A touch of magic wasn't the only thing that made it easy for him to get into places without a fuss. Cosimo had found that if you pretended you were meant to be there and were confident in your movements, people didn't tend to bother you. It was all about having the right attitude.
Cosimo did his best not to get too distracted by marble busts, beautiful paintings, sculptures, and city views as he strode through the long halls of the gallery and to the café. It had a beautiful terrace, which was empty despite the nice weather. He checked his watch. It was 10:55 a.m.
