Page 9 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
In exasperation, I said, “La merda,woman, do you never cease your babbling?”
“Don’t be vulgar, Rosaline,” Mamma said automatically.
Nurse put on an innocent expression. “To be silent when I know the truth would be a sin of omission.”
My three sisters began circling like the brats they are. “What did he give you, Rosie? Did he give you a ring? Did he give you a kiss? Did he give his heart?”
“Definitely not his heart.” If he’d said he loved me, I might not return his affection, but I wouldn’t be quite so aggravated.
“We haven’t seen a ring,” Imogene said, “so—”
Katherina and Emilia chanted, “Oooo, a kiss. Rosie got a kiss. Rosie got a kiss. Rosie got a—”
“That’s enough, girls.” Mamma was firm, but smiling. “We must leave Rosie her secrets.”
“Humph.” Like that was going to happen in this household.
Papà staggered in, sweaty and exhausted, pushing Cesario ahead of him. Tommaso, our young footman recently promoted to the position as Papà’s manservant, stood behind him, looking equally worn. “Behold my son, perfectly dressed. Now I have to go change again. Don’t let him get dirty or tear anything. I’ll be right back!” He sprinted out of my room and down the corridor to our parents’ suite, with Tommaso on his heels.
Cesario smiled, a cheerful imp, and struck a pose. “Princess Isabella will think I’m handsome and love me more than ever.”
“You’re a blister on the bottom of humanity”—if there was a choice between diplomacy and insult, Emilia always chose the insult—“and Princess Isabella knows it.”
“I am not!” Cesario shoved her with his hand.
“Are too.” Emilia shoved back.
“She does not!” He shoved.
“Does too!” She body shoved.
Nurse caught them both by the backs of the necks and held them apart. “You will both remain clean and unwrinkled until you arrive at the palace or I’ll personally wash and iron you while you’re in your clothing.”
Both kids relaxed so abruptly, they fell to the floor, where they remained until Papà arrived clad in an entirely different outfit. “To think I used to take an hour to dress,” he marveled. “Children have an unexpected way of changing your priorities.”
Mamma put her hand on her belly and half closed her eyes. “This child is much more placid than Cesario. Probably a girl.”
“No, Mamma, it’s a boy.” Imogene threw that off as if everyone should know. “He looks like Grandpapa Montague and he’ll make famous wines.”
We stared at her. Imogene had a most disconcerting way of predicting the future, which wouldn’t be a concern if she was wrong, but she was always right.
Time to turn the subject before someone mentioned witchcraft. “One thing about this visit,” I announced with robust, if unlikely, good humor, “there’s no way it can be as bad as we fear.”
CHAPTER5
“The central atrium of the palace contains exotic trees and plants from far-distant lands, like Persia and Aksum. You can tell this tree, commonly called a palmyra by the long, hanging leaves and the rough, scaly bark.” Prince Escalus used his long fingers to display the leaves to the whole Montague family, who nodded in unison, holding their eyes open as wide as they could to keep from nodding off. “It is said to grow to great heights far to the east, in the warmer parts of Jambudv pa.”
In the big scheme of things, this oratory was nothing more than a fleeting moment of discomfort, but . . . my fault. My fault that my beloved family was bored almost to tears and we all now knew that we faced many more moments of excruciating ennui. Moments that would stretch into hours, and hours into years . . .
Because I was betrothed to Prince Escalus, soon to be married to him. I’d doomed my family and myself to an eternity of listening to him expound about his peculiar enthusiasms as if they were interesting.
I groaned gloomily.
Prince Escalus stopped talking and looked at me in inquiry.
Mamma and Katherina viewed me in warning.
Cesario piped up, “Rosie, you sound like Mamma. Does your tummy hurt like hers?”
