Page 13 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
“Because the Moors captured the island of Sicily and there spread their culture, art, and architecture. What do you think the other reason is?”
Cesario looked like a mouse trapped in the mouth of a scrawny cat. In what was clearly a wild guess based on his tutor’s current teaching, he said, “The Holy Father’s Crusades?”
“That’s right!” Clearly delighted, Prince Escalus hugged Cesario’s skinny little shoulder, while Cesario looked at me in alarm.
Prince Escalus looked around at the girls. “Come with me and I’ll show you . . . Weren’t there more children—”
Katherina joined us and widened her brown eyes, exotic in their upward tilt—Mamma’s eyes—at him. “I can’t wait to see what else you have to show us.”
He fell for it. Of course.
Imogene lagged behind as Prince Escalus led us onward through the gallery, and whenever he glanced back, she would appear to be studying a sculpture or a textile.
He seemed gratified by her fascination, and by the questions with which Katherina and I plied him, and before too long, Imogene had vanished.
When the prince failed to notice, I nodded at Katherina and interrupted him midsentence. “Cesario, do you need to use the facilities?”
Cesario was squirming from boredom, an action easily misinterpreted by Prince Escalus.
“I’ll have a footman take him,” the prince said.
Two footmen popped out from beside the drapes and hurried toward us.
“It’s a large palace and he’s a small boy. With Mamma resting and Papà tending to her, I’m in charge.” I spoke crisply, for Iwasthe oldest sister and Iwasin charge. “I’d feel more at ease if Katherina escorted him. Perhaps the footman can show them where to go?”
“As you wish, but that leaves us quite—”
Katherina snatched Cesario’s hand and fled, chased by the footman.
“—alone,” the prince finished. He looked around. “Where did the other children disappear?”
“I’m sure they’ll appear momentarily.” I saw a nearby drape move.
A pale, sad-faced female peeked out at me, but as soon as my gaze met hers, she pulled back.
“Who was that?” I asked in a low voice.
“Orsa of the kitchen. She wants to view you, I trow.”
“Yes. I do seem to be a moving display.” I had suspicions that the parade of servants worked to observe their future mistress—she who would hold their futures in her hands. Testing my theory, I said, “The palace seems well tended, if perhaps a little dusty.”
At once, two maids popped out of hiding holding cloths and wiped at vases and tables.
Craning my neck, I looked up. “Especially the cove molding and drapes. There are cobwebs!” I managed to sound scandalized.
Three footmen appeared, one carrying a ladder; in moments, the neglected upper parts of the great walk were being tended.
Prince Escalus seemed not to notice my manipulations. “Your siblings . . . as you said, it’s a large palace, and I hope they’re not lost.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.” As I prepared to launch myself into scintillating conversation to keep him occupied, a large portrait had caught my eye, a man of impressive physique and weathered beauty. His shoulder-length blond hair had been artfully highlighted, his dark eyebrows served as a frame for his alert green eyes, his unsmiling mouth, sculptured cheekbones, and determined chin bespoke a man of authority and responsibility. I wandered toward it, trying to comprehend how it was possible for mere wood plank and paint to portray a face so alert his gaze seemed to be watching me. “Who is this?”
“My father, Prince Escalus the elder. Alberti painted him as Papà received the first rumbles of rebellion, and captured a mighty likeness of his sense of responsibility for the unrest and his ongoing schemes to turn the tide. After the uprising, much strife had changed his countenance. When he rescued me from the Acquasasso dungeons, he spoke more wisely and looked more haggard, a man who’d given all for his city and feared for the future of his family.”
“When was he . . . ?”
“That very night, he was drugged and stabbed in his bed, and I, to my eternal shame, have not been able to find his killer.”
CHAPTER7
