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“Thank you,” said Fiore.
Enzo whirled to stare at him.
But Fiore’s gaze remained fixed on Lucrezia. “In a single stroke, you’ve allowed me the personal satisfaction of revenge and kept Enzo safe from harm.”
Enzo continued staring at him.
“Masterful, really,” Fiore continued, still to Lucrezia.
“I know,” said Lucrezia.
Enzo glanced back just in time to find the ghost of a smile playing about her lips.
He couldn’t imagine that this was her original intent behind detaining him from the duel. Perhaps she’d wished to keep Enzo safe, fair enough, but she couldn’t possibly have cared about Fiore’s vengeance.
Lucrezia’s voice startled Enzo out of his whirling thoughts.
“May I speak to you in confidence, Signor Fiore?” Lucrezia asked.
Fiore nodded.
Enzo waited for Lucrezia to speak.
Instead, she served him a pointed sidelong look and still more pointed silence.
Enzo knew the look well. She’d worn it throughout their childhood whenever she wanted him to leave a room. Her audacity in casting it on him now, however, made him balk.
A long and silent moment ensued before Lucrezia broke it with a sharp sigh of disappointment. “If you would be so kind as to leave us, Enzo.”
Enzo stared at her, aghast.
Her annoyed look softened somewhat. “Only for a moment.”
“I’ll be all right,” Fiore spoke up, startling Enzo.
Enzo glanced between them. Lucrezia, wearily irritated, a mirror of his own feelings without even half his justification. Fiore, harrowed yet smiling, weak as cobwebs and insisting on his own way regardless.
And while Enzo might withstand a thousand blows from his sister, he could not deny his beloved.
Enzo took Fiore’s hand in his and brought his knuckles to his lips. He would’ve done more, far more, but for his sister’s presence. What small gesture he permitted himself would suffice to tell her all he wished.
Better still, it sufficed to provoke the ghost of a smile on Fiore’s perfect lips.
Enzo stood. To Lucrezia, he said, “If he takes a turn—even by the slightest degree—for the worst, ring for aid.”
“As you like,” Lucrezia replied, much to his surprise.
Enzo ought to have left her with that warning alone. But as he passed by her on his way out of the bedchamber, he found himself pausing to clap a hand on her shoulder. He leant to her ear and whispered.
“If he dies, I will follow him into the grave.”
Then, without waiting to see how she took it, he forced himself to leave Fiore’s sick-room.
~
Long afterward, Fiore would blame the anodyne and his receding fever for his boldness in demanding an audience with the prince.
He’d only just awoken. He hadn’t even had time to consider the why behind Enzo arriving to Isola dell’Anfiteatro only after the duel was over. Too exhausted by his fight against the poison. Too relieved to have Enzo by his side at last.
