But today there was no sight of her. There were, however, two new guards posted outside her door. She turned to one of them. “Who are you?”
“We are to escort you down to the dungeon,” he explained.
Saturnino had sent them. She ignored the stab of annoyance in her belly, still concerned for Ombretta. “Have you seen a cat?” Ravenna asked them.
Imelda puckered her brow. “The cat?”
“Yes,” Ravenna said, impatient. “She’s always here.”
“She likes to walk the path to the stables on some mornings,” one of the guards muttered. A flush bloomed in his tanned face at the sudden frown from the other guard. “What? I like cats.”
Ravenna checked her smile. “Where are the stables?”
“Past the gardens, to the rear of the palazzo,” the guard muttered. “It’s a separate building, but a narrow lane leads there.”
“Let’s go,” Ravenna said.
Imelda glared at her but didn’t dare share her annoyance. As Ravenna’s maid, it would look odd to be heard and seen arguing with her, a station above her own. “It’s cold out,” she said instead, raising her brows pointedly.
Ravenna gave her a sweet smile. “This will only take a minute. I like having her near while I work.”
To which Imelda could say nothing at all.
The guards took her down to the courtyard, then out another side exit that opened to the entrance to the garden. Once outside, Ravenna breathed in the crisp air until her lungs were near bursting. She tromped through the garden, weaving in and out of the laurel hedges and fig trees, the guards a watchful presence. She searched around the many fountains and flower beds. Pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth, she explored every inch of the garden; there was no sign of the cat. Tall walls enclosed the space, but there was a wooden door that opened to the narrow lane. Another guard paced the perimeter walls and, once he saw she was accompanied, allowed her through.
She strode down the path following the side of the garden, until it veered sharply toward the stables. “Ombretta!” she called.
The stables were ahead of her, accessible by the path and a discreet side street. Ravenna picked up her pace, feeling oddly nervous. A tight coil formed in her chest, and she chided herself. The cat was fine, probably still back in the palazzo, sprawled across her bed. But some innate sense within told her to keep looking.
The sound of loud jeering caught her attention. The exterior of the building matched the much larger palazzo, solemn-faced and stern, with matching arched doorways and windows and a terra-cotta roof. She rounded the corner, following the noise, until she came upon a group of boys—they were the children of some of the servants. She often saw them tasked with errands and taking care of the horses.
They were carrying sticks and surrounding the trunk of a tree. They were yelling at someone, something, hidden in the leaves. A loud yowl cut through their taunting.
Ravenna gasped.Ombretta.
Her cat was in that tree.
One of the boys picked up a rock and threw it at her cat. Ombretta let out a frightened hiss. She couldn’t escape their taunting, their infernal sticks.
Ravenna set out at a run, yelling loudly, the guards calling after her—
A piercing whistle cut through the air.
Her voice was drowned out by the sound, and she stopped suddenly as a great thundering noise grew louder and louder. The boys looked between them, startled, the cat momentarily forgotten. An elegant black horse burst from the stables and the boys scrambled in every direction, letting out frightened shrieks as the great animal galloped after them, stomping its hooves onto the ground so hard that Ravenna was half-surprised it didn’t quake beneath her feet.
Ravenna raced toward the tree, intent on climbing to save Ombretta. The cat meowed, a pitiful sound, but then leaped, landing on her feet. Something was wrapped around her neck, a strip of dirtyfabric. The children had done it. Ravenna tried to untie it, but Ombretta swiped a paw at her, and Ravenna barely withdrew her hand in time not to get scratched.
“Hold still,” Ravenna pleaded. “Let me help you.”
She brushed her palm lightly over Ombretta’s back, her little body trembling.
A movement from the corner of her eye drew her notice and she stopped, snapping her head in the direction of the stables. A shape materialized from within the dark corridor. He was dressed in a flowing white tunic, his red-and-gold doublet left carelessly open, his legs encased in dark hose that disappeared into knee-high polished leather boots. He leaned against the wooden door frame, arms crossed across his chest, and he stared back at Ravenna impassively.
Saturnino.
He had been the one to whistle, the one to spur his horse into action, driving away the boys, making them scatter in the cold wind. Because he made no move to approach her, nor did he give any indication that he wished to speak with her, Ravenna turned her attention back to the task at hand. Her hands shook as she tried again to untie the heavy knot at Ombretta’s neck. They’d wrapped the fabric around her neck dangerously tight.
A shadow fell over her. She glanced up in time to see Saturnino drop to one knee alongside her. She shifted the wriggling Ombretta in her arms. “There’s a dagger in—”
