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Cal nodded stiffly, glanced around as if seeking a glimpse of the ghost who haunted me. “Go to Nonna Ursula. I’ll find you there.” Turning, he walked toward the herb garden, Dion on his heels.

“At leastyoubelieve in me.” Elder sounded more worried than irritated. “I wish I could talk to him before . . .”

“Before what?”

“There’s not much time. Unless something happens, I’ll be nothing but a wisp of a frustrated spirit slipping through the palace corridors, unseen and forgotten.”

He alarmed me with his prediction. “You said you didn’t know what the rules were. You said there was no ‘Welcome to the Afterlife Seminar.’”

“I don’tknowanything. I simply feel less”—he waved a hand—“here.”

I stepped back and looked at him. I had thought yesterday that he looked more transparent around the edges. “Is there a deadline?” Caught by my own phrasing, I chuckled. “Deadline. An unfortunate choice of words.” Yet I couldn’t stop laughing, for the recent traumatic events had brought both tears and laughter.

With an indignant huff, Elder popped off.

I started for Nonna Ursula’s suite and behind me heard one of the guards say to Tommaso, “I’d heard your mistress was crazy, poor thing. Too bad she’s to be our new princess!”

Elder had truly complicated my life.

“Shut your maw,” Tommaso said. He followed me into Nonna Ursula’s rooms and took up guard position inside the bedroom.

Nonna was sleeping.

Old Maria scowled as I opened the window to let in the air. But she could hardly claim danger, for the outside iron bars had been repaired.

I knelt beside the bed and looked into Nonna’s face. Her skull was bandaged, her eyes sunken, bruising crossed her forehead. Even so, what a difference food and wine had made, for her cheeks had blushed faintly with healthy color, and I thanked God for her recovery.

Knowing Pasqueta’s fate would hurt her most dreadfully, and while I had no doubt that Elder spoke true, I resolved to keep it from her as long as possible.

I knelt beside Nonna Ursula and took her hand, and she woke and smiled so sweetly at me. “Rosie, my darling girl.” She ran her hand over my head and her smile widened. “Nice eye! Were you running without your bodice?”

I laughed in surprise. All the male comments didn’t come close to her humorous suggestion. But then I suppose they didn’t dare. “No, Nonna. My bubbies are so firm they don’t jiggle.”

She laughed in return. “What does the other guy look like?”

I slipped out of banter mode. “He’s dead.”

She patted my head as if I had been a well-trained dog. “That comforts me to know my future granddaughter can handle herself in a fight.”

“I needed help,” I confessed.

“Help comes when you’re a woman people love.”

A good thought, comforting when so much death pressed close to my body and my heart.

Old Maria bustled over, helped Nonna sit up on the pillows, and gave her a steaming cup of something, which made her grimace. “Rosie, I understand you handled the kitchen.”

“I did.”

“At least the gruel doesn’t taste like something died in the cup.” She toasted me. “Sadly, it’s still gruel.” She sighed. “Yago is dying. Did you know?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tackled him.”

Nonna Ursula chuckled. “He and I laughed about it a bit. If he’d married a woman like you . . . but Lugrezia caught him in her claws and he never had a chance. Poor man. Poor weak man.” She mourned him already.

I sat back on my heels. “Your countenance is also more colorful than when I first met you.”

Leaning forward, she had a glint in her eye. “I’ve been waiting for you. I wanted to tell you what happened.”