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Now she loomed on the horizon.
And Enzo knew not what to do.
“Enzo?”
Fiore’s voice drew him out of his spiraling thoughts. He didn’t bother attempting a smile; it would never fool Fiore. Instead he turned to Carlotta.
“Thank you,” he told her. Then, returning to Fiore, he said, “I believe we’d set our course for the baths?”
While he couldn’t do anything about his mother’s imminent arrival, he could do something to alleviate Fiore’s evident—if courageously silent—suffering.
Fiore cast a curious look up at him. But he nodded nonetheless.
And so Enzo half-carried him there.
Fiore remained quiet throughout their soak. It ended when he dozed off, at which point Enzo, not wanting to risk his drowning, roused him, dried him off, and this time actually carried him off upstairs to their bedchamber. Fiore was almost asleep again by the time they arrived.
The sun had only just passed its zenith. Enzo tucked Fiore into bed anyway. Three days on the road would sap anyone’s strength, and Fiore had suffered more than most.
“Will she come here, d’you think?” Fiore murmured.
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
A spike of adrenaline shot through Enzo’s veins. Nevertheless he kept his face still and his voice low. “I can’t imagine why she would.”
“You’re her favorite. You said so yourself.”
Trust Fiore to recall even the most insignificant words that dropped from his lips. Enzo smiled despite himself. But while he might have been his mother’s favorite when she embarked on her voyage, his behavior in the intervening years could hardly have kept him so. “She’ll have plenty to occupy her in the city.”
Fiore remained silent long enough that Enzo thought he might have drifted off again. But then his voice emerged even smaller than before. “What if she sends me away?”
All of Enzo’s own fears coalesced into resolution. “She cannot. We are in our own dukedom.”
“Your dukedom.”
“Ourdukedom,” Enzo insisted. “You belong here as much as Antonio belongs in Giovanna’s realm. This is your home—if you’ll have it,” he added, suddenly self-conscious. Fiore had hardly seen the place yet. If he turned out not to like it, Enzo didn’t want to foist it upon him. “No one has the power to remove you. Not even my mother.”
If she tried, she would find her supposed-favorite child a force to be reckoned with.
Fiore fell silent. But his gaze lingered on Enzo’s face, flicking down to his lips and back to his eyes.
Enzo took the hint and kissed him.
Within a few more gentle caresses, Fiore had fallen into deep slumber.
Enzo remained wretchedly awake.
For all the reassuring truths he’d told Fiore, his own mind spun on horrible conjectures. He couldn’t begin to imagine what his mother would think of the man he’d become. Sent down from university for dueling only to issue another challenge when he got his bearings in the city. Whatever rumors she’d heard at sea of his behavior couldn’t have proved flattering. The shadows grew long as he fixed his gaze on his sleeping beloved and his mind flew down pointless pathways. The sun drifted ever lower toward evening. Yet Fiore did not wake, so Enzo did not stir.
In a dim and distant way Enzo knew he ought to go and find Giovanna. Thank her for accompanying them on their journey and for readying the villa ahead of them. Consult with her regarding their mother’s return. But he didn’t want to leave Fiore alone. While a turn for the worse remained unlikely, it was nonetheless possible, particularly after the stress of a three-day voyage.
A soft pitter-patter of a knock fell on the bedchamber door.
Enzo turned, not entirely certain if he’d heard the sound or merely imagined it. He went to answer it nonetheless.
And found Giovanna on the other side.
