Bring a servingwoman with you if you fear for your good name, Bianca. I will not be offended. I would have you at ease with me, and not fearful that I will set upon you in some shameful manner.
“Well, well,” said Agata, who was privy to her mistress’s correspondence with the prince, “he is thoughtful of you. If you were a maid, of course, you should have to refuse, but you are not. You have been very lonely, I know. As long as the behavior you and this man exhibit is proper, and I am there to assure it, I see no reason you should not talk with him, mistress. Perhaps he may even have word of what is happening in the city since your mother has not felt secure enough to write to you.”
Tomorrow,he read later that day when he opened the little piece of parchment he found beneath Darius’s collar. Amir smiled to himself. He had not been so intrigued with a woman in a long time, but like the skilled hunter he was, he had let her come to him on her own terms. He was not surprised to see her coming towards him the following afternoon in the company of another woman. Perhaps she really was a respectable woman, but how respectable remained to be seen. He considered now that she was a wealthy and powerful man’s discarded mistress, given a villa and sent away because she had become an inconvenience for whatever reason. Certainly the woman of a good house would not be alone, as she was.
He wore white trousers and a white tunic that extended to just below his knees as he walked towards her, his dark boots crunching the pebbles beneath into the sand. The white suited his sun-bronzed complexion and dark, wavy hair. The dog was by his side.
“Now he looks like a Turk,” Agata said softly. “And he is very handsome.”
She is beautiful,Amir thought as they approached,and young too. What fool of a smug Florentine has tossed her away so casually?She wore a silk gown, lavender in color. The puffed sleeves were plain and the dress had no train. It was a simple garment, but the fabric was of the best quality, he could see. Of medium height, she carried herself well. The aristocratic little face was not one of a peasant. Her hair was ebony. It wasn’t dyed to suit the Florentine fashion of blond or red. Her skin was clear and very pale. Her eyes were light, although at the moment he could not tell what color, for she had them lowered politely. Yes, whoever she was, she was of high station and had manners.
“Your eyes are blue!” she exclaimed, surprised as they came close enough to truly see each other. “I did not know that Turks had blue eyes.”
“My mother was English,” he said. Then he bowed politely to her, and taking up her small hand in his, he kissed it. “Your presence honors me,madonna.”
An odd thought struck Bianca as he released her hand. His kiss had seemed like a brand upon her flesh. She felt her cheeks growing warm with color.
“Your eyes are like aquamarines,” he said, “but then I am certain many have told you that before. I apologize I cannot be more original for you, Bianca.”
“I am told the color of my eyes comes from a northern ancestor,signore,” she responded.
“Let us walk,” he invited her. “Darius and your servant will act as our chaperones.”
It was mid-September. The warm air held a faint hint of autumn today. The turquoise sea was calm, its waves small and delicate, barely making a ripple upon the water as they fell with a gentle sigh upon the sand of the shore. Above them the ever-present gulls soared, complaining to one another in the light breeze. Bianca and the prince walked in silence for a time and then Bianca spoke.
“Why do you live here instead of Florence?”
“I do not like your city of Florence,” he admitted. “I don’t even keep a palazzo there. When I am forced to remain overnight, I sleep in a small apartment above my warehouse, but few know that. It gives me an excuse to avoid entertaining. My tastes are simple, and I have little patience with ostentation. I leave that to others who seem to need the acclaim such excess brings them.”
“Do you belong to a guild?” she asked him.
“Not really, although the Arte di Calimala have said they consider me one of their own, despite my foreign origins,” Amir told her with an amused smile.
“The cloth merchants are very important,” Bianca said, “and your carpets are fashioned of wool and some of silk,” she pointed out.
She was educated enough to know this, and he was more curious than ever. “Who are you?” he asked her.
Bianca stopped a moment before moving on again. “I cannot tell you that,signore, and I beg that you do not press me further. I will tell you that it became necessary for me to flee the city. My very life is at risk, even now. The villa in which I reside belongs to my family. I am a respectable woman, not a courtesan, but if I am to remain safe I must remain unknown to you.”
“I will respect your wishes, Bianca, if you will agree to continue to walk with me,” he said with a smile.
“I will agree, for I find your company pleasant,signore.”
For several weeks, Agata accompanied her mistress each day as she walked with the prince. Then there came a day when Agata was sniffling, sneezing, and snuffling.
Bianca bade her remain at home, for it was a windy day. “I can go without you. I believe you will agree that Prince Amir has proven himself now.”
Agata was feeling poorly enough that she didn’t even suggest that Bianca let one of the housemaids chaperone her. She just waved her mistress off.
He asked after her about it, of course. “Where is your dragon?” he teased her.
“Ill, but not seriously,” Bianca said. She bent and patted Darius. “His coat is so beautiful. How do you keep him that way?”
“Krikor brushes him daily,” the prince answered and took Bianca’s hand in his for the very first time. Though she was startled by the warm fingers suddenly curling about hers, she decided she liked it and said nothing. Agata did not come with them again, and each day Amir took Bianca’s hand in his as they walked. But soon the weather would grow rainy and chilly with the late autumn. They would not be able to walk together, and the thought of it made Bianca very sad. It had been just over a year now since she had escaped her husband and come to Luce Stellare. She had grown to enjoy the prince’s company.
Then one day a sudden rainstorm swept in on them from the sea as they walked. They were too far from either villa. Amir quickly led them into the mouth of one of the caves that edged the beach beneath the low cliffs. They stood watching the rain pour down in a silver sheet. It had been chilly before. Now the rain made it seem colder.
Bianca pulled her cloak tightly about her, but she was unable to contain her shivering. He put an arm about her, drawing her close against him, and then he spoke, breaking the deep silence that hung between them. “Tell me why you fled Florence.”
