CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 26

The evening was as raucous as I had feared, and Prince Escalus as watchful and dignified. Yet because he was quiet, we all strained to hear what he said, and each word was measured and of interest. He brought a welcome balance to our madness, like salt to a bowl of minestra.

Also, and this is important, Princess Isabella had given herself over to our side, and Prince Escalus seemed to have no problem with that.

Hours later, when the meal was over and we lingered over sweet wine, Prince Escalus tore off yet another chunk of Cook's fruit and nut bread, smeared it with butter, and consumed it.

"You're very fond of that bread." Mamma's eyes sparkled. She enjoyed pleasing guests at her table.

"It's remarkable for its tastes and textures. I would have it every day if I could!" The meal had wrought a miracle; in truth, he sounded enthusiastic.

"Then Cook will gift you with a loaf to carry with you to the palace." Mamma indicated to Tommaso that it should be done. He disappeared and returned with a loaf wrapped in linen, which he presented to the prince with a bow.

The prince accepted it with many gracious thanks. He stood, took my mother's hand, and bowed low over it. "Lady Juliet, your hospitality is matched only by your beauty. My sister and I render most sincere thanks to you and your family, and now we take our leave."

Cesario groaned. "Can't she stay? I love her."

Smiles slipped around the table and were swiftly hidden. It wouldn't do to hurt the little boy's feelings.

Princess Isabella, who had risen with the prince, hugged Cesario and pressed a kiss on the top of his head. "If Lord Romeo and Lady Juliet will allow, I'll have you and your sisters to the palace to play. There are gardens and so many rooms and armors, so many places for hide-and-seek!"

Cesario's eyes grew big, and he looked to our parents.

Juliet smiled. "Such an invitation would be an honor."

Cesario was a smart boy; he took Isabella's hand and bowed over it in the same elegant manner as the prince had done with our mother. Yet his enthusiastic words told all. "I can't wait to see you again!"

Among the tumult of their leaving, Prince Escalus spoke in my ear. "It would seem my suspicions were correct, and your brother has formed a tendre for my sister."

In a low voice to match his, I replied, "I trust the age difference to slow any romance." I knew Cesario, so I added, "Although probably not from lack of trying on his part."

Thankfully, the prince gave that quirk of a smile and he and Princess Isabella took their leave, the Princess Isabella inside the sedan chair, Prince Escalus walking beside.

I took note of the neighbors' twitching drapes and resolved to tell Nurse. Ah, the satisfaction she'd get from gloating at the servants tomorrow!

Papà helped a weary Mamma up the stairs. The kids scattered to their beds, herded by our nurse and her cadre of assistants. The servants snuffed the candles, save for one small, well-protected flame to lessen night's shadows. I stood in the entry until I was sure I was alone, then pulled the pins from my cap and trinzale, the net I wore over my braid, and used my fingers to loosen my hair. If I had one vanity (which was not easy when your mother was Lady Juliet Montague and whatever beauty you had was first ascribed to her), it was my hair. The rich brown rippled with tones of cool auburn and warm copper, and unbound reached to my hips. With its thick length fanned out around my shoulders, I thought myself a naiad going out to trap a mortal man.

Okay, not really. I'm not that fanciful.

It had been hours and hours, and most likely Lysander had left; the evening air was growing chilly, and he would be hungry and heedful of my warning about the swords of my kinsmen. Also, if he'd heard Prince Escalus's observations about a person skulking in the boxwood, a speedy escape would be the logical move.

Yet I wrapped myself in a fine wool cape and strolled out on the terrace to look out over the garden.

The full moon shone brightly across the paths, trees, and hedges. Stars studded the black skies, and night-blooming flowers released their heavenly scent. Tall, pointed cypress flanked each side of the terrace, dark green in the sunlight, now enigmatically casting heavy shadows that lie oppressively along the marble floors.

I leaned against the marble rail and scanned for movement. A girl could dream, and when all the garden remained empty, dream I did. Having listened to my parents my entire life—not even a pillow over my ears drowned them out—I was naturally able to envision quite a bit, and in living color, and what had previously been an annoyance was now a much-appreciated education. I wrapped my arms around myself and imagined Lysander and our coming embrace. I imagined our kiss, our whispered words, our gentle sighs, our escalating passion....

When I was warm and weak in anticipation, I turned toward the house—and a man's hulking shadow loomed by the door, backlit by the night candle.

I took a startled breath and reached for the blade in my sleeve.

The man stepped into the moonlight.

Enter stage right: Prince Escalus.