“Now I want you to go home and be happy and content yourself,” she continued. “Become a prosperous silk merchant following in our father’s footsteps. Respect and care kindly for your wife and children. Gain proper prestige with an envied mistress. Serve the state as often as they will have you. Be charitable, remembering your many blessings. And when you happen to think of me, Marco, know that I am happy and content as the wife of my dearest infidel. I would have it no other way, nor should you. If you still perceive that you have sinned against me, Brother, I freely offer you my full forgiveness.”
His eyes were filled with tears, which he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand. “Bianca...” he said, and then to her great surprise he broke down sobbing.
She moved quickly around the table to enfold him in her embrace as he wept.
“Dearest brother,” she said, “you must not grieve for me any longer. Please, oh please, tell me that you understand, Marco. It pains me to think you will go and not comprehend. What can I do to make you see?”
He had shocked himself with the emotions that had overcome him so suddenly. He had not cried since he was a small boy. Men did not weep like maidens or old women. And then, as the sound of her gentle voice calmed him, he came to realize that she had truly forgiven him, if indeed she had once held him responsible for her unhappiness. Her warm embrace soothed him. He gathered himself once again, easing himself from her arms. “I understand, Bianca,” he told her. “How can I not when I see you filled with such happiness and peace?”
She smiled at him, her delicate fingers brushing away the evidence of his sorrow. “I am glad then, and I can send you home without the burden of your unnecessary guilt, Marco. Give my love to Francesca, and tell her of my happiness. I will pray that she finds hers. And the others too.”
“You still pray to our God?” He had thought she would be forbidden to do so and be forced to pray to the deity of the infidels.
“Of course I pray to God,” she said, almost laughing. “Amir promised I should not be forced to give up my faith. I have no priest, it is true, but I know God hears my prayers even without one.”
He nodded, then said, “I did not ask you before, Bianca, but do you have any children? I would tell our father, who will gladly receive news of you, even if others will not.” They both knew he referred to their mother.
“No, but I hope to one day. Maysun and Shahdi are sterile, for it is not wise for Ottoman princes to have too many children, especially sons. Sons pose a danger to the sultan, to his heir, and to their family.”
“So that is why Prince Amir lived in Florence,” Marco said, fascinated.
“He told me when you are the sultan’s grandson, it is better to be a merchant than a warrior. His father even now quarrels with his brother, Sultan Bayezit.”
“Does that not put you in danger?” Marco asked, concerned.
“No,” Azura told him. “Amir has always been loyal to the sultan, whoever he may be. He does not involve himself in politics. His uncle knows he will not rebel, even for his father’s sake. We are told that the prince, Jem, now resides on the island of Rhodes under the protection of the Knights Hospitaliers.”
“I know little of politics except when it should affect the silk trade,” Marco told her. “I came to Bursa because it is there that the Silk Road ends, and I wished to speak with some of that city’s merchants. I have found a new source of particularly fine silk and silk brocade that will please our father greatly. The robe you wear is exquisite. With material like that, the Pietro d’Angelos could corner the trade in silk.”
She laughed. “You are Father’s true son, Marco. I know he is proud of you.”
“He does not say it if he is,” Marco grumbled, helping himself now to one of the small honeyed nut confections that was still left upon the plate.
They spent another hour or so in comfortable brotherly-sisterly companionship. The concerns between them were now settled. Azura knew she must be the one to end the afternoon. Finally she forced herself to rise, and he rose too.
“You must go, Marco,” she told him. “I am glad you came. It is unlikely we will see each other again in this life, Brother.”
“I know,” he admitted, “but I am relieved to see how happy you are, Bianca, and I am grateful for your forgiveness.”
The two siblings embraced, and then Azura escorted him from the salon, surprised to see Amir awaiting them outside.
“My lord?” she said.
“I will escort your brother back to the beach, beloved,” he told her.
She gave a little nod of her head. “You are most gracious, my lord.” Then she turned to her brother a final time. “Farewell, Marco. Remember my words, and go with God in your travels.” Then kissing him on both cheeks, she turned and hurried off down a corridor and out of his sight.
“Come!” Amir said to his guest.
“I am grateful that you allowed me to see Bianca,” Marco said as they exited the little palace and began the climb down the steep path to the shoreline. “She has put my mind at ease, and forgiven me for past wrongs.”
“I am glad, but you cannot come again,” Amir told him. “It was not easy for Azura to leave all that was familiar to her, but she did it for my sake. I can but hope a woman will one day love you that much, Marco Pietro d’Angelo.”
“It was difficult for me as well,” Marco told his companion, refusing to be bullied even a little by this prince. “She is my sister, the closest to me in age of all our siblings. I should not upset her willingly. If it be your will, my lord, that we not see each other again, then I accept it. My sister has already told me most firmly the same thing,” he concluded with a small smile.
Amir barked a sharp laugh. “Did she? Did she indeed? Ah, what a wonderful female creature she is.” His handsome face relaxed now as the threat of Azura’s family began to fade away.
They reached the beach, where a little boat was waiting to take the young silk merchant back to the anchored vessel.
