The afternoon sun was warm through the trees, and Marcella tilted her head back and just breathed in the earthy smell of her land and the lavender fields.
"I hate them so much for taking this from me," she admitted to Cosimo, swallowing back tears.
"Can I ask how they did it? It was your land."
Marcella sniffed and tried to pull herself together. "They wanted it as a part of the divorce. As compensation. I had a family trust that they would never be able to take, but the house was something that they could bargain for. I knew I would never be welcome back in Forli, so I agreed to it. I was so broken, I didn't think I would care, as long as I never had to see them again. Most of the Sforzas came from Milano. Forli was only ever really Caterina's place. A few generations ago, a branch of the family wanted to come back here and set up this place. When I go to Milano, I can feel my people too, but not as strongly as here. This is my direct blood in the earth."
Cosimo nodded, understanding in a way no one else could. "The Greatdrakes house in Ireland is the same. I couldn't imagine leaving it or giving it up. You were incredibly brave to do it, Marcella."
"I was a coward," she whispered. "I couldn't stand up to them. I was taught to hide my abilities, and in doing so, I was always so scared to fight back."
"Do you want to tell me why you needed to hide them? I'm not going to run from you, whatever they are," Cosimo said and held out a hand to her.
Marcella took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll show you, and then you can decide."
Marcella pushed open the rusted iron gate into the small graveyard and walked among the stones. The paths were overgrown, but her feet remembered where they were. They stopped in front of two marble headstones, the newest in the plot. They belonged to her parents, Amalia and Matteo Sforza.
Marcella saw freshly turned earth on her father's grave and frowned. Animals rarely disturbed the yard in the past, but with it being such a mess, she wouldn't be surprised that they had moved in.
"Would you like me to help clear them?" Cosimo asked kindly.
Marcella nodded, and together they cleared the last weeds that had overrun the marble headstones and the plots bordered with white stones. The earth tingled against her fingers, and she longed to lie back in it and soak up the feeling.
Once the graves were cleaned, Marcella took out candles from her bag and arranged them with the flowers, fruit, and wine she had brought with her. She set out a packet of cigarettes that were her father's favorite and a tube of fuchsia pink lipstick that was the only shade her mother had ever worn.
Cosimo gave her space and didn't interrupt. It was an easy silence that didn't need to be filled until she was ready to.
Taking her father's silver cigarette lighter from her pocket, Marcella lit the candles and whispered a prayer to Santa Maria for them. Finally, she brushed the dirt off her jeans and stood up.
"When I was a girl, my mother discovered I inherited some interesting blessings from her family's patron goddess," she began, turning to Cosimo. She told him the same story that she had shared with his daughters, how the patron of the Sforza had been Hermes-Mercury, and her Sicilian mother had brought in her Black Madonna-Persephone worship.
She toyed with the charms on her bracelet, letting them sing as she spoke. Was she really about to do this? Everything was going so well with him, and she didn't want to ruin it.
No. She couldn't be a coward, not now that she had finally found someone that she could connect with.
"You need to see it, to understand, I... Fuck it," Marcella said and unclipped the bracelet. Instant dark power flowed up through her and into her aura. She took in a shaky breath, unused to the feel of her magic not being smothered. The gifts from Mercury were there too, all swimming about her, unchecked for once.
"Marcella," Cosimo whispered reverently. "You have necromancy magic. I've never seen someone with such a natural ability before."
Marcella nodded, and then, because she was already all in, she knelt and knocked on the earth three times.
The shade of her mother appeared almost instantly, sitting perched on her headstone in a bright pink dress and with perfectly winged eyeliner.
"About time you came back to see me, daughter. Who is the man, and why is he smiling at me like that?" Amalia asked.
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Cosimo bowed. "I am Cosimo Greatdakes,SignoraSforza, and it is a pleasure to meet you."
Both women's mouths dropped open in surprise.
"You… You can see her?" Marcella demanded, hands on her hips.
"Of course I can," Cosimo replied, brows rising. "What is it? I said I had never met someone with your natural ability. That didn't mean I haven't studied necromancy before. My sister was ridiculously good at it. Valentine, too, though it didn't hold his attention for long. For God's sake, he even built a spirit box just for fun. Why? Why are you looking at me like I am the ghost here?"
Amalia laughed, a sound eerily like Marcella's own. "Well, well,piccola, it looks like you have finally found the right man for you."
Marcella was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that he could see shades. "You have studied how to do this? How to control this..."
