AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did they?” Fiore said before he could temper his incredulity into something more palatable.
Enzo hesitated. “In their own way.”
Fiore supposed he could believe that. If only to make his heart cease trying to batter its way out of his ribcage.
“I’ve told her she can’t see you until you’re well again,” Enzo continued.
Fiore doubted a duke would have so much patience with a mere courtesan. Privately, he vowed to recover as soon as possible.
He spent the first day almost entirely supine. He took a few turns about the bedroom with Enzo and glimpsed the greater estate outside the copious windows. Enzo professed himself eager to show him more. They said not another word of his mother.
The second day Fiore spent mostly upright. He felt strong enough to sit up under his own power. Enzo walked with him arm-in-arm throughout the master suite. Not only did Enzo point out rooms that remained vacant and convenient to the bedchamber that he thought Fiore might want to claim for himself, but he also brought out architectural diagrams to show him what parts of the property he’d not yet visited.
“In case you’d prefer your sanctuary more distant from our quarters,” Enzo explained as Fiore stared bewildered at the plans laid out before him.
Fiore couldn’t fathom wanting to be anywhere but by Enzo’s side.
“For instance, here,” Enzo ran on, tapping a point on the plans to the southeast of the bedchamber where they now sat. “I’ve never found use for this tower, but at its peak there’s a room with windows all around—sunshine at every angle all hours of the day—might it suit for a drawing studio?”
When he put it that way, Fiore could hardly say no.
On the third day Fiore walked to solarium—on Enzo’s arm, but upright nonetheless. Enzo tucked him into the corner of the sofa with pillows and blankets. Vittorio slept at their feet whilst Enzo read to him. They passed a pleasant afternoon in warm sunshine.
By the fourth day Fiore felt almost himself again.
“I don’t want to keep her waiting any longer,” he told Enzo shortly after quaffing the first cup of coffee permitted him in four days.
“She’s found plenty to occupy herself in the meantime,” Enzo assured him.
“Still,” said Fiore, and this, combined with a particular tilt of his head and speaking glance, sufficed.
Fiore insisted on wearing a proper suit rather than just a wrapping-gown over his nightshirt. Enzo hesitated but assisted him in dressing nonetheless.
By then the hour had arrived for coffee in the solarium with Enzo’s mother.
Enzo installed Fiore on the sofa first, for which Fiore felt grateful. Far easier to appear strong—or at least, to not appear weak—if he was already settled in when Enzo’s mother came in, rather than staggering in to meet her and having her watch as he required Enzo’s assistance just to sit down. A maid Fiore hadn’t met yet brought in the tray with coffee, brioche, and zaletti before departing in silence. He made note to ask Enzo for her name when he was in a fit state to remember things.
And then a figure loomed in the doorway.
A woman of middling age and regal bearing, garbed in a stark black gown almost devoid of decoration but wondrous in its cut and wave. Her handsome face remained an impassive mask. For a confusing moment she looked eerily familiar. Then Fiore realized—of course—that he recognized her daughters in her. Giovanna’s figure. The prince’s arch features. He dared not hope he might see something of Enzo in her as well.
“Mother,” said Enzo, standing to greet her but keeping a hand on Fiore’s shoulder lest he rise as well.
The duke’s smile warmed her aspect considerably. Not so much that Fiore dared breathe in her presence, yet enough to make her seem somewhat less carved from marble than her eldest daughter. She sailed in as smooth and swift and silent as a sandolo.
Two chairs perched on either side of the sofa. She chose the one nearest Fiore. This did nothing to improve his nerves.
Enzo’s hand clasp, however, helped a great deal.
“Signor Fiore, I presume?” Her voice lay in the perfect mid-point between Giovanna’s warmth and the prince’s command.
Fiore nodded and wished that, just once, he might meet Enzo’s family on his feet.
“My daughters spoke very highly of you,” she continued, much to Fiore’s confusion and alarm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. And to see you looking so well in your convalescence.”
“Likewise, I’m sure,” Fiore replied before he could think of anything better.
She smiled not unkindly. “Do you gamble?”
