“That’s one problem dealt with,” Signor Luni said. His voice turned flat. “And what about the little sculptress?”
Ravenna’s breath caught at the back of her throat. She inched closer, her heart thumping hard against her ribs.
There was an electric pause.
“What about her?” Saturnino drawled.
“According to you, her power is nowhere near where we need it to be. Her witch blood is too diluted. Which means we still need to find a witch powerful enough to perform the spell.”
Her stomach dropped.Spell?What spell?
“I’m aware,” Saturnino replied coolly. “But Ravenna is still a sculptress and powerful enough to extract all five Nightflames.”
“So it’sRavenna, is it?” Marco asked, sly.
“Silenzio,” Saturnino snapped. “I’ve had enough of your inanities, Marco.”
Ravenna held her breath. The quiet stretched between them, filling with tension.
“Will she finish in time?” Lorenzo asked after a beat.
“Notaccording to my brother.” Marco arched a dark brow. There was the slightest hint of cold amusement in his features, as if he enjoyed putting his brother thoroughly in his place. “That’s what you said before. Isn’t that right, Saturnino?”
“How unfortunate,” Signor Luni said with a sigh. “And a pretty woman at that. What do you intend to do?”
“What else is there to do?” Saturnino asked in that same cold voice. “I suppose we ought to replace her.”
“Let me have her,” Signor Sforza said, speaking for the first time. A leering smile curved the line of his mouth. Ravenna recoiled, her skin prickling with the sense of approaching danger. “I can think of—”
“I’ll handle it,” Saturnino cut in, straightening his spine. “I’ve already begun my search for her replacement.”
Ravenna’s jaw dropped.
“Sincewhen?” Marco demanded.
“All the more reason to give her to me,” Signor Sforza said at the same time.
“Have her then, if she’s willing,” Saturnino said neutrally.
“I’m tempted to send the machine to Volterra,” Signor Medici muttered. “Nothing good has come from that city, least of all her.”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Signor Sforza mused. “It would send a message to those loyal to the pope.”
Ice filled her, making it hard to breathe. Ravenna didn’t hear Saturnino’s reply; she’d turned away, somehow managing to keep quiet, even though she would have preferred to run away screaming. She retraced her steps, her body overrun by a tide of rising emotions, making her vision swim. She could do nothing to suppress the flood of feeling drowning her, nothing but flee from the garden.
It wasn’t until she returned to her seat in the great hall, until she had taken a long sip of spiced wine from her goblet, that her color returned, and clarity cut through her panic and disbelief. These men weren’t planning for a way to survive against an attack. They would destroy whole villages in their bid for power.
They would destroy Volterra.
Would her family survive such an attack?
Ravenna wouldn’t risk it. There was a part of her that wanted to side with Saturnino, with Florence, even, against His Holiness. But not anymore. Every time Saturnino had left the palazzo for any period of time, he had been off searching for someone to do the work she wouldn’t—couldn’t—do.
Because he’d already decided to dispose of her. There was nothing she could say or do to change his mind. She had always known it was a possibility. Except she’dstupidlythought he wouldn’t actually harm her. That all his piercing looks, his soft words, his passionate kiss, had meant something. Even a little.
But she had been a fool.
Behaving like a silly child without a thought for the consequences.
