If Saturnino was surprised by her question, he didn’t show it.
Instead, his sister abruptly turned to Ravenna. “Aren’t you cold? My deplorable brother has neglected your comforts. Come, let me take you to your room so you may look like a lady and not a street urchin.” She threw an exasperated glance at Saturnino. “Dinner will be brought to you, Ravenna, no need to exert yourself.”
Fortuna held out her arm, fully expecting Ravenna to link her arm with hers.
But a feeling of unease bloomed deep in Ravenna’s belly. “I want an answer.”
“He was caught disobeying the rules,” came Saturnino’s oblique reply.
There were many who still did, many who outright refused the Medici’s stronghold on their town. The captain wasn’t a novelty. “Capitano Lombardi was loyal to Volterra. Why would he follow your orders?”
“Because the Medici won, and his side lost, but that didn’t stop him from trying to rouse the rabble.”
“I see.” Ravenna paused. “So you offered him money to go away.”
Saturnino’s flat, dark eyes narrowed. Ravenna had the uncanny sense that she was staring back into that pitch-black cave and she’d just thrown a rock into it. Her body trembled as she waited for whatever sinister creature to creep out.
“Saturnino,” Fortuna warned. “Don’t.”
Too late, Ravenna realized there was something within that cave after all. Saturnino’s inner hostility slithered out of him, devoid of any humanity and unscrupulous to the very bone. In a voice that reminded Ravenna of the coldest nights in Volterra, when bitter winds swept over the hills, Saturnino said, “I slit his throat from ear to ear.”
Saturnino dei Luni
They escorted the little sculptress to her chambers; elegant rooms of which he was sure she had never seen the like. Ravenna went inside without protest, silent and pale. She half turned, a soft hand on the golden latch, her profile limned in the candlelight that washed her room in a hazy glow. He expected her to slam the door in a fit of rebellion, her eyes to fill with unshed tears.
But Ravenna merely lifted her eyes, meeting his own in a level stare that would have brought a mortal man to his knees. The sharp gaze gleamed like polished amber, clear and confident. Her warm-colored hair swept over her shoulders, nearly reaching her waist, and for one fleeting moment he wondered what it would feel like to run his cool fingers through it. He dismissed the thought as an idle curiosity, but then she lifted her chin high, her expression serene but somehow defiant.
She was not afraid to meet his cold cruelty.
Nor was she afraid to meet her fate or change its course with her bare hands if it came to that. A strange feeling unsettled him, like hearing a single haunting note in a quiet room, its resonance hinting at a symphony far richer and more complex than expected. Ravenna Maffei was no simple tune; she lingered, an echo in his mind he couldn’t quiet, no matter how much he wished to.
She closed the door and his thoughts scattered. He shook his head, as if to rid himself of whatever ridiculous notions had fractured his initial impression of the girl. He’d dealt with humans like her before. Sanctimonious and self-serving, with a face that knew how to look innocent and sincere. A witch hiding her powers.
It was all an act.
He was conscious of Fortuna’s assessing presence, her judgment like a blunt blade at his throat. She stepped close, her rose perfume scenting the air between them. Being around her always made him think of thorns. Of her vile potions that destroyed lives.
“What possessed you to reveal such a thing to her?” Fortuna hissed through her teeth. “We need her trust now that sheknows.” She took his arm and urged him to lead her down to the family rooms. Her slippered feet ought to have been silent, but she moved with forceful strides, her steps thudding against the stone.
“We need her to behave,” Saturnino corrected. “It’s as you said, that girl isn’t impressed by our connections, wealth, or beauty. Fear will keep her obedient.”
Fortuna shook her head. “Fear breeds rebellion.”
“I know her type,” he said. “She’s the worst sort—an accomplished liar who lies about being a decent person. Fortunately, she does have her weaknesses.”
“Which are?”
Saturnino arched a black brow. He wouldn’t reveal anything of the sort to Fortuna, who liked interfering with his plans to the detriment of his sanity.
She glared at him, peeved by his continued silence. But something caught her eye, and the corners of her lips turned downward. “Why is that cat following you?”
The tone was unique to her and she employed it often. It was partly curious, partly disdainful, as if she couldn’t believe so stupid a notion had crossed her path. She used it with servants and with Marco, and sometimes she tried to use it with him.
Saturnino glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, the black feline had returned to his side. She had locked eyes with him the second he’d arrived at the palazzo and hadn’t really left him since. “Is it?”
An almost gleeful expression crept over her face. “You’ve always been fond of animals.”
Impatience rippled through him. Fortuna had the annoying habitof trying to find any apparent weakness in him. Some hint that he cared about something, anything. But he’d cut all attachments decades earlier. None of it was worth it. “Not this one.”
