“I bumped into our resident artist,” Saturnino said, shifting away from Ravenna. He had been standing to keep her from their view but now he let them take her in. The borrowed gown and shoes, the exasperated look on her face.
“Get inside,” Marco barked.
She blinked in surprise.
“Now,” Marco snapped.
“He’s a bit of a brute,” Saturnino said in an undertone. “Been like that since I’ve known him. Absolutely no manners, and I can’t conceivably rely on him for anything.”
“Miserabili pezzi di merda,” Marco muttered, rubbing his brow. “Not before I’ve had my posca, per favore.” Then he turned away and stomped inside the dining room.
“Actually, I suppose I was being ungracious. He has exceptionalhearing,” Saturnino said in a thoughtful tone. “So he does havesomeuse.”
“I’m starving,” Signor Luni said, following his youngest son into the dining room.
His wife trailed after him, saying, “No, don’t serve yourself yet, Marco. Not until we’re all seated. How many times…” Her voice faded.
Saturnino left her with Fortuna, who regarded her coolly as Ravenna stood in place. “My brother seems quite taken with you.”
“Does he?” Ravenna asked dully. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“What a curious creature you are,” Fortuna remarked, shaking her head. “He is the most sought-out bachelor in Florence, anyone else would go down on their knees in gratitude.”
Ravenna gave her a pointed look. “And do any of those people know he’s a murderer?”
Fortuna lifted her arm, in a gesture so like the night before it made Ravenna blink. “Of course they do,” she murmured. “How do you think he earned the knighthood?”
Ravenna could only stare at her.
“An enemy of us or the Medici is an enemy of the republic,” Fortuna explained. “And Saturnino is Florence’s greatest defender.”
Ravenna stared at Fortuna in sudden elation. Saturnino’s sister, of all people, had given her an idea for how to secure a meeting with Lorenzo de’ Medici. “Is he really.”
“Yes.” Fortuna glanced at her, then glanced at her again, her lips flattening. “I don’t care for the smile on your face. Too many teeth.” Fortuna squinted at her. “What thoughts are filling that strange mind of yours?”
Before Ravenna could reply, a pair of servants ushered them into the dining room. Her gaze alighted on the seated Luni family. They were each beautiful in their own way, and they were all turned toward her, looking at her as if she were one of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s infamous caged lions. A rare spectacle, in which the lion could do nothing but do what he was told.
Ravenna steeled herself for what was to come, holding on to her idea tightly with both hands, telling herself not to sway or give in no matter what happened next. She had power; she had something this deplorable family wanted.
She was a born negotiator. She could do this.
And if she pulled it off, Volterra might forgive her and welcome her back home.
The dining room matched the splendor of the other chambers in the palazzo. Ornate tapestries hung from wooden beams stretching from one end of the ceiling to the other, paneled walls adorned in velvet brocade surrounded them, and under their feet, polished flagstones shone like melted chocolate. A long table with trestle legs took up most of the room, and at the head sat Signor Luni, his chief steward, Tomasso, standing at his elbow.
Morning light spilled in from the paned windows, creating a golden and cozy effect. The flames crackled and spat in the fireplace, a welcome warmth against the cold day. Marco sat down next to his father and directly opposite his mother, Signora Luni, which left another two chairs that would have a conversation partner. Ravenna would have no one across from her, not that she minded.
It would position her more as an observer, suiting her needs perfectly.
Saturnino sat next to Marco, immediately lounging in his seat; he draped an arm across the back of his chair. His eyes were hooded, his manner lazy. It was a stark contrast to the way he had behaved the first time they all had sat around a table. Ravenna wasn’t fooled by his change in behavior. Her senses were on high alert where he was concerned.
“Have a seat, Ravenna,” Fortuna said, indicating the chair next to Signora Luni. It would place her directly across from Saturnino.
“I don’t—”
“Sit down,” Saturnino coaxed, as Tomasso brought a silver pitcherand a matching goblet from an elaborately carved wooden credenza. He walked around the table, fetching and filling additional goblets until everyone had something to drink in front of them.
Ravenna awkwardly pulled out the chair. It was heavy and bulky, upholstered in a dark red fabric.Lung, thought Ravenna. It loudly scraped against the floor while everyone watched her. Hot embarrassment burned across her cheeks. If her family had been here, Papà or Antonio would have assisted her. She sat down—but now she had to lean forward to yank the beastly chair toward the table.
