“Come join us,” Signora Luni said, all gracious host, splaying her hand at the two empty chairs still left. The movement seemed practiced and not instinctive. Then the immortal lady indicated to the two servers standing alongside the stone walls. “You may begin, per favore.”
Saturnino held out a chair across the table from Fortuna, and Ravenna sat, stone-faced. Her cup and plate were filled, the scents mingling in her nose, making her mouth water, and Signora Luni leaned forward to drape a cloth napkin across her lap.
What pretty manners they had for their captive.
The family began eating, and Ravenna awkwardly took up autensil, struck by the sudden silence. At home, mealtimes were a boisterous affair: the twins running amok, her sister climbing onto her lap, her parents recounting stories about one guest or the other, their neighbors, or any news from town. But dining with the immortal family felt as cheery and welcoming as eating in a graveyard.
They ate methodically, with precise, controlled movements. No one spoke or ate with any apparent enjoyment. It was unnerving. Ravenna lowered her utensil, her stomach twisting, only to sense someone studying her. She lifted her gaze, locking eyes with the contessa. She wasn’t eating her meal, but she was certainly drinking it. Fortuna held out her goblet without looking in the direction of the server, even when he darted forward to refill it. She didn’t thank him, nor acknowledge him as he slunk back to the wall.
Ravenna was unable to keep the censure off her face.
“How disapproving you look.” Fortuna tilted her head, her brow creasing. “I can’t imagine why.”
Ravenna stared at her, barely comprehending how the countess could be so out of touch with reality. “Can’t you?”
“Perhaps you are a bit dim,” she mused.
Ravenna lowered her utensil, gripping the handle until her knuckles turned white. She had only felt this kind of anger once, and it had been when the Florentine army had locked up her brother. Signora Luni reached across her body and pried it loose, gently laying it onto the table.
“My apologies,” Signora Luni said. “Fortuna can’t help being herself.”
Fortuna deliberately took a long sip from her wine, patted her lips with a napkin, and faced Ravenna again. “Don’t you realize what we’ve done for you?”
“For me?” Ravenna echoed in dull amazement.
The contessa regarded her brightly, blue eyes sparkling like sunlight hitting the surface of a fast-moving river. “We’ve changed your fate.”
“More accurately,” Signor Luni said, “we’ve improved it.”
Ravenna could not keep the astonishment off her face. “By holding me against my will?”
“Yes,” Fortuna said, as if it were an obvious answer. “Before we arrive in Florence, everyone will have learned who you are.” She leaned forward, her voice persuasive. “A talented sculptress, hidden in a moldering city, plucked from obscurity.” She lowered her voice. “You do know whoweare, don’t you?”
“She knows,” Saturnino said softly.
Ravenna stilled at the sound of his voice. His beautiful face drew her eye more often than she liked, but she resisted looking at him. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“We have made you famous, my dear,” Signora Luni explained, speaking slowly, as if she were a child in want of teaching. “You will become associated with the cream of Florentine society: Medici, Ridolfi, Tornabuoni. Don’t underestimate such powerful connections.”
Ravenna kept her expression neutral but inwardly, her blood boiled.Medici.She wanted nothing to do with them, not unless she could help bring down their iron hold on Volterra. Which was an impossible feat, akin to turning water into wine.
“Exactly so.” Signor Luni nodded at his wife in approval. “Only think of the patrons your inn might acquire because of your position in our household.”
“What a legend you’ll be. The girl who won the competition,” Signora Luni added, her eyes shining. “With our patronage, we’ve made your reputation into something so precious and valuable, it may as well be made of solid gold.”
Or thirty pieces of silver, Ravenna thought.
“My family will gift you a brand-new wardrobe,” Fortuna said, her voice dripping with poisoned honey. “Gowns, shoes, jewelry. A personal maid. Anything at all for our girl, the one who won our hearts over.”
Ravenna brushed this aside with an impatient flick of her hand. “You mean, thewomanstolen from her home. Who wasn’t told for what reason or allowed to even say goodbye to her family.”
“Thewomanwho has the supreme honor of becoming our artist in residence,” Signor Luni corrected. “We are your new patrons, and as such, you will be given whatever is necessary to complete the work we need you to do.” His eyes glittered feverishly. “You are the only one who can do it, I’m sure of it.”
There was a pregnant pause as they clearly waited for her to ask the question they knew she most wanted the answer to.
Ravenna shoved her plate away from her, angry, exasperated, curious. Whatever they sought, they must want it badly enough to kidnap her. “You want me to perform a miracle.”
“Yes,” came Signor Luni’s reply, hushed and reverent.
