“Prince Amir is an infidel,” Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo said quietly. “Any serious or permanent liaison between him and Bianca is unthinkable. I do not disagree with you, Orianna, but I also believe that Bianca will recover more fully away from the mother she believes betrayed her. And she will have Francesca for company. Despite the four years difference in their ages, they always get on well. Her younger sister will divert her.”
“They have not seen each other since Bianca married Rovere,” Orianna pointed out. “Bianca is already eighteen, and Francesca thirteen. My father writes that he believes she will be ready for marriage in another year. He will choose the right man for her, you may be certain, for he adores her. Now, however, he will also have to seek a husband for Bianca. Still”—and Orianna laughed—“Papa does enjoy ruling his little world. Bianca will not be able to get around him easily. He did have five daughters himself.”
“Then you agree that Bianca should go to Venice,” the silk merchant said.
“Yes!” his wife replied. “The sooner, the better, for I will admit to you, husband, that my nerves are in shreds from dealing with her.”
By chance, Agata spotted Krikor in the small market that catered to scent makers near the Ponte Vecchio. She made her way through the crowds until she was standing next to him. “Do not turn your head, Krikor. It is Agata. Tell your master that thesignorais being sent to her grandfather in Venice soon. He is Prince Alessandro Venier,” Agata murmured in a low voice.
“Tell your mistress that a troop of the sultan’s Janissaries arrived today. We leave for Istanbul tomorrow,” Krikor replied, and then he moved away from her.
Agata made a small purchase of a carved ivory bottle filled with attar of roses, and then hurried home so she might report her news to Bianca.
“Perhaps he will take us on the road to Venice,” Bianca said hopefully.
“No, that is unlikely,” the practical Agata said. “The Janissaries will travel quickly with the prince, for they will want to bring him to the sultan as swiftly as possible. But perhaps he will find you in Venice. I told Krikor your grandfather’s name, and he will tell the prince. He has promised that he would find you, mistress, and he will. Will you, however, want to go with him then?”
“Yes!” Bianca said. “I will never cease to love him. My heart is not a fickle one.” And then she began to consider the road that Amir and his escort would traverse come the morrow. They would certainly begin by taking the Venice road, although they were unlikely to go to Venice. They would go early, of course, and if she was fortunate and quick enough, she might at least get to see him pass by.
She didn’t tell Agata. Her servingwoman was loyal and loved her mistress, but she was likely to discourage such an adventure. Instead she sought out her younger brother Georgio. “I know you are responsible for Rovere finding me,” she said without any preamble. “You owe me a debt for that, little brother.”
“I had no choice in the matter,” her sibling said, flushing with his guilty shame.
“I know the man who threatened you. You were right to be afraid of him, but that does not erase your debt to me,” Bianca said in a hard voice.
“What do you want from me?” Georgio asked her.
“Two things. Your company early tomorrow, and your silence about it,” Bianca said to him.
“Will it distress our mother?” the boy asked her.
“Only if she knows, but you will not tell her, Georgio, for if you do, I will revenge myself upon you in a manner you would not like,” Bianca threatened.
“Oh, very well,” the boy conceded. “Where do you want to go?”
“Before dawn to the gate leading to the Venice road,” Bianca said. “There is something there I would see, and when I have I will return home.”
“You swear it?” he asked her.
“You have my word, Brother,” she said.
“And my silence?” he inquired.
“You will understand tomorrow,” Bianca told him.
“And all debts between us are satisfied if I do this?” he said.
“Yes,” she promised him.
“How early?” he wanted to know.
“Two hours before the dawn, for we must walk the city to reach there,” Bianca replied. “I suspect the early streets could prove dangerous.”
“They could, but if you dress discreetly we will not attract any attention,” he told her. “Do you have a dark cloak with a hood, Sister?”
“I do, and I will wear it,” Bianca said.
“Wear sturdy shoes, for the streets can be dirty and wet at an early hour,” he advised his sister. “You’ll destroy a pair of silk slippers if you wear such on your feet.”
