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I don’t answer at first, because it bothers me that I have no idea. “She was an independent woman,” I finish lamely.

“Was? Is your mother no longer with us?”

I shake my head. “She died a few years back in an accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Romeo says. It feels like the man standing before me now, with the gentlemanly attitude and sincerity in his voice, is the exact opposite of the man I met yesterday. It’s unnerving.

“Thank you,” I say awkwardly. I turn to Leo. “I’m sorry you didn’t know my father. I’d like answers as to why I was called here just as much as the rest of you.” Someone mutters a curse in the corner of the room. It doesn’t surprise me to see Narciso Rossi with a glass of wine and a cigar.

Marialena tugs me along with her. “Annnnd back to the tour. Here’s the Great Hall,” Marialena says in a loud voice with a forced smile. The Great Hall, a regal room with cathedral ceilings and heavy, solid wooden furniture that looks as if it were carved by hand, invites a large gathering. It smells of ancient wood, fresh-baked bread, and roasted garlic. My stomach rumbles. I look around the room and feel my eyes widen at the sight of a massive pipe organ, flags that hang from the ceiling, turrets and a view of the hallways that lead to various other rooms.

“Here we have many of our family’s gatherings.”

And perhaps they eat turkey legs with their bare hands and drink wine from goblets before they sharpen their swords by the roaring fire?

You don’t know who we are, do you?

It seems finding that out is the first order of business.

“Behind us is the coat room,” she says, gesturing to the small room I saw this morning not far from the reception room. “We loved to hide there when we were little,” she says with a wistful look in her eyes before she smiles and gestures for me to follow her. I marvel at the many rooms, majestic and well-furnished. The house is bustling with people, servants and family, and I imagine some are those still lingering from earlier today.

We walk beyond the Great Hall, its entrance at our back, to what Marialena calls the sun room, a small, quaint room with a huge skylight and large, arched windows that let in so much light my heart seems to lift, even as I feel Romeo’s eyes following us. Rocking chairs with hand-sewn quilts make the room look cozy and welcoming. I imagine the women like to gather here while the men conduct business, like an ancient throwback to archaic times that demanded segregation of the genders.

Something about this place makes me feel like we’ve gone back in time, as if we’re no longer solidly living in the twenty-first century. It adds to the unusual feel of this place.

Beyond the sun room sits a large pantry that flanks a formal dining room. The dining room takes my breath away. I stand in awe for a full minute before I follow her again. One wall of the dining room boasts nothing but wine—a full wall of glass with nothing but bottles of wine in reds and whites and pinks, bedecked with golden labels, and I realize that the chandelier itself is made of wine glasses. Whoa.

“I guess you guys like your wine?”

She smiles. “Romeo used to tell me Mama put it in my bottle when I was a baby to shut me up.” Either his mother’s insane or he actually has a sense of humor. I file it away on my mental list of notes.

A doorway from the dining room opens to a circular room. When Marialena opens the door, I stifle another gasp. I don’t want to seem like a country bumpkin, but I’ve truly never seen anything like this. When people hear I’m from New York, they think I’m a city dweller. What they don’t know is that I’m as far away from the city as possible. I grew up at the foot of the Adirondacks, in a one-bedroom house with well water, a garden, and heated by a woodburning stove. I rarely went into the city, and haven’t in ages. I lived a sheltered life until my mother died. I’m shocked to see an actual castle like this right here in the present day.

I stare at the library. Wall upon wall of leather-bound books, plush armchairs, another fireplace with a roaring fire, and a side table with a tea set beckon for me to come and repose.

“Forget the guest room,” I mutter. “How about I sleep here?”

She grins.

I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s nothing short of breathtaking.

“Since you’ll be here for the next month, I’m sure you’ll have time to spend in here. Come, there’s so much more to see.”

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