“We’re here,” Marcello said as we emerged from the tunnel. He raised a brow and offered his arm. “Ready?”
I shook off my dark concerns. Quit with the emo thoughts, Gabi, I told myself. I was supposed to feel like a debutante on her presentation day. Or at least what I thought it might feel like to be a debutante at her first ball. In Colorado we didn’t do much of that whole Southern belle thing. Which didn’t mean we didn’t think about it…every girl, deep inside, wants her moment on the floor. That moment when she feels like a princess. Noticed. Admired. Known.
We’d had the rock-star reception in the piazza when we’d returned to Siena before, as her victorious She-Wolves. But this, this, I thought, as the entire room hushed and all eyes turned to us, was my Serious Princess Moment.
On Marcello’s arm I glided to the center. Lia and Luca, Mom and Dad, were right behind us. In the middle of the hall, Marcello brought me to a stop, and we stood in a line.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Marcello said loudly. “None is more glad than I to make this announcement. The Ladies Betarrini and Lord Benedetto Betarrini have returned to Siena.”
The room erupted in applause, and I grinned back at faces I recognized—the Nine, their wives, other nobility. Marcello gently turned me, and we greeted those behind us. There were a couple hundred people in all, but everyone stared at me like they knew and loved me.
That was the overwhelming sentiment of the moment: love. Never had I felt that kind of goodwill in one place, from so many. I was so caught up in it, so adoring My Moment, this chance to be with Marcello again—possibly forever—that I drifted in a kind of zoned-out bliss from dinner to dancing. When it finally ended, I was reluctant to let it go.
At the tunnel entrance I hesitated.
Marcello glanced back at me. “Gabriella?”
“We should go back through the piazza,” I said. We could hear that the city’s people were in full-fledged party mode. We could smell the smoke from the bonfires. “Let’s join them in their festivities.”
Marcello shook his head. “It’s far too dangerous. Come, you may greet your people during the light of day, should you still so desire it.”
“They fought alongside us, Marcello,” I said. “Many of our people gave their lives to our cause. Who are we to remain separate?”
“Remember your arrival? That was during the day, before the people were full of wine. Tonight they shall be relentless in their fervor.”
“It may take us a while, but we’ll get across Il Campo eventually. Come, love. This night has been far more amazing than I ever imagined. I’m not ready for it to end. Are you?”
He stared down into my eyes, as if searching my face for the right answer, and then he looked over at Luca.
“I’ll call in a few more men,” Luca said with a laugh. Lia had her game face on, and my parents seemed open to it.
I smiled, but Marcello frowned, as if second-guessing himself. “We will not take such risks often, Gabriella,” he warned. “But Siena would be most grateful for the opportunity to greet her She-Wolves.”
Six more of Marcello’s knights, dressed in gold tunics, assembled behind the other four that had been with us all evening. “You three will be with Lord Forelli and Lady Gabriella,” Luca said. “You three with me and Lady Lia. And you four shall surround the elder Betarrinis.” He looked to Marcello for confirmation, and Marcello nodded once, affirming his plan.
They would essentially form a barrier around all of us, but I knew it was the best I was going to get. So I went with it. We moved out, and within minutes a cry went up, waving through the crowd in a repeated echo. “The Ladies Betarrini! She-Wolves! The She-Wolves!”
We were halfway through the piazza when circles of dancers and throngs of people stopped us. People were howling like they were wolves out during a full moon, laughing and cheering. Everyone we passed kept a respectful distance, but they reached out their hands for us to touch them, like we were bestowing magic or good will or something.
“She touched me!” screamed a woman.
“I’ve been touched!” yelled a man.
And so it went, over and over as we made our way forward.
A large man dared to step forward. “Begging your pardon, m’lord,” he said, “but I wondered if the lady would be so kind as to consider a brief dance.”
I wanted to dance. Not in the provincial, hoity-toity manner of the nobility within the Palazzo Pubblico, but in the earthy, celebratory way of the people outside, moving with so much joy, so much momentum, their breath clouded before their faces in the cold, dark night as they passed by.
Marcello kind of scoffed—which really bugged me—and was shaking his head, preparing to say no. “I would be most delighted,” I said. I stepped forward and took the man’s hand, and two men on fiddle-like instruments—viellas, if I remembered the term right—immediately began to play the song they’d been playing when we arrived.
“What is your name, sir?” I asked.
“Nanni Bencini,” he said so bashfully I imagined he was blushing to his collar, though in the dark of night I couldn’t see it. “M’lady, you’ve done me the greatest honor.”
“Say no more, good man,” I said. “Simply show me the ways of your dance.”
Others filled in around us with Luca, Lia, and my parents on the far side of the circle, grinning my way. It seemed that all their dances were done in circles, reminding me of a bat mitzvah I’d gone to last year for a friend. I just hoped they wouldn’t lift me up on some sort of rickety chair. That’d really make Marcello—who was already silently steaming behind me—go ballistic.
“Come, Marcello,” I said, “Join us.”
“I’ll stay here and keep watch.”
The other three knights on guard duty exchanged a look, but Marcello remained stubbornly focused on me.
Whatever, I thought, shrugging my shoulders and turning back to the circle. He really could be so irritatingly decided at times. Maybe this would help him loosen up. Give me a little more freedom. Because, well, I had a dad again. And I didn’t need Marcello for some psycho father-figure-slash-boyfriend role. I needed him as my boyfriend. That was it.
On either side of me, men were showing me the dance steps, the women beside them doing the same. The musicians slowed the music so we could catch on to the steps, and then a man on the far side called out, “Get on with it!” and they immediately went to double time. We were off, kicking out our heels, tapping our toes, lifting our knees, and then galloping three paces to the right. Strong hands grasped mine, and then we were weaving, trying to keep to the dance steps while moving in and out of other lines of people. I laughed when I missed steps, and others laughed with me, instantly forgiving or perhaps too drunk to care.
I was concentrating so hard on the steps that it took me a while to figure out we’d joined with other circles of dancers. My family was separated, and yet the joy and goodwill among the people made it seem like they were all family to me—like the greatest family reunion ever. Like even if I didn’t know all their names, I knew I belonged with them. Pulled, I lurched forward and laughed, catching up again, smiling as people came together in the center of our current circle and clapped.
At one point I was on the high side of the shell-shaped piazza, and I could see the entire mass of dancing people below me. They were singing a new song, each on the trail of the person ahead of them, interweaving. I ducked and went under the arms of a group waiting for ours to pass by, and then when we were at the center, it was our turn to pause and let a hundred others go under our arms.
Lia and Luca passed by me, Lia laughing, Luca looking like he might be regretting the whole thing. Lia called over her shoulder, “It’s like a town-wide, medieval version of Twister!”
I laughed, and they were gone. We’d lost the guards somewhere in the mix. I hadn’t seen my parents in fifteen minutes—they were likely on the other side of the square—and I’d changed partners thirty times because every time we moved into a tight
circle, released our companions’ hands, and yelled “Vita!” we turned and were claimed by a new group of people. I had no idea why we were shouting Life! to the sky, but I’d never really understood the whole Macarena phenomenon either. I just went with it. And it was super fun. The most fun I’d had at a dance, like, ever.
But I was feeling guilty about leaving Marcello behind. He’d probably be ticked off and scared out of his mind, even though we were in the heart of Siena, surrounded by her people, probably safer than we’d be anywhere else. But if I’d just gotten him back after a fifteen-month absence…
I craned my neck and tried to see where my current line of dance partners were heading, hopefully down toward where I’d left Marcello, or up near the top left of the sprawling arc, near an entrance, where I could duck out and wait for his arrival. That was close to the palazzo. Maybe he waited for me there anyway, hoping to grab us as we came by, like netting prize goldfish from a bowl teeming with others.
I barely paid attention as new men took my hands and pulled me down toward the center of the piazza again. I was looking for my sister, my parents, any of the Forelli knights, hoping to duck out—
That was when my companions tugged me to my knees, making me clunk one on the cobblestones. I winced and looked around in confusion, thinking this might be another dance move I’d yet to learn, but three earnest faces stared at me. “M’lady, we aim to free Lord Fortino Forelli.”
I blinked several times, trying to make sense of his words. “Fortino? You can get to him?”
The one across from me nodded and looked me in the eye. “But we need you, m’lady. You and your sister.”
My eyes narrowed. It didn’t take much to remember what the Fiorentini wanted in exchange for Fortino last time.
Our heads.
“Lord Marcello and I,” I said, “we’ve discussed this. He cannot see the way in through Firenze’s gates, and he cannot abide the risk to either me or Lady Evangelia.”
The one to my right nodded. “We mean you no harm. But here’s our plan…we bring you to a city—”
“A neutral city,” amended his friend.
“…in chains,” resumed the first, “as if we’re willing to hand you over to them, but as we make the exchange, our men attack, and we get you and Lord Fortino to safety.”
“Away from Firenze, we believe we’ll have a good chance at success,” said the second.
A good chance. With Lia and me at stake. Marcello will never go for it.
I tried to rise, but the men held me down. “Forgive us, m’lady. We saw no other way to talk to you. Each of us owes Lord Fortino our lives. We served with him in the battle.”
They’d served beside Fortino. Knew him. My friend. I shoved back a wave of fear and stared sternly at each of them. “Go to Lord Marcello with your plans. He will hear you out.”
They glanced at one another, as if trying to decide how much to tell me.
The one in the middle shook his head. “We’ve gone to Lord Marcello before. And we doubt Lord Marcello will tolerate any plan that puts you or your sister in danger. Which we understand well. But the Fiorentini are so determined to have you in hand again, they will not give up on it until Fortino dies. The Nine have offered ransom after ransom—kingly ransoms—and they always receive the same answer.”
We shared a long, hard, silent look.
“We see no other way,” said the first man. “And time is running out, m’lady.”
I looked at him sharply. “You have received recent word on Lord Fortino?”
“Indeed,” he said simply. Gravely.
I considered him. I knew well how stubborn Marcello could be. And that he’d put my safety ahead of his brother’s. Every time. I found his chivalry charming most times, but in a case like this? With Fortino edging ever closer to death’s door? If there was an option, even a crazy idea? Shouldn’t we at least consider it? I knew I couldn’t live with myself if Fortino died and we hadn’t tried every avenue to save him…
“Come to Lord Marcello’s palazzo tomorrow at one,” I said. “I shall aid you in your persuasion—to at least get Lord Marcello hear you out. But release me now, before he finds us here and demands that you are sent to Siena’s prison in chains.” The three shared a look and then immediately stood.
I did too. And saw Marcello four rows away from me, looking frantically in the other direction. “Quickly,” I said, “take my hands and lead a dance line right over there, past Lord Marcello.”
Two of the men did as I bid, gradually forcing smiles to their faces. We entered another line, which broke and cheered and let us in like we were long-lost family members, and we headed right toward Marcello and his men like a churning chain pulling up anchor.
“Gabriella,” Marcello said, half in relief, half in total agitation.
I laughed and fell into his arms, waving my companions and the rest off. The people cheered, and soon my parents circled close enough for us to grab them. Lia and Luca hurried up along the top edge of the piazza, no longer dancing. Luca ducked his head, knowing Marcello was fuming. “Forgive me, m’lord,” he said.
“I warned you,” Marcello said, his voice barely discernible over the music and laughter and singing. “I warned you all.”
“Of what?” I asked, cocking a brow. “We danced, laughed, sang. What is so terrible about that?”
He clamped his lips shut and then took my hand, pulling me forward at a quick step, away from the others. In seconds we were in a relatively quiet alcove, away from the crowds. He paced before me for a full minute, running his hand through his hair, beginning to speak, stopping himself, pacing some more. Then finally, “Gabriella, do you have any idea how much I love you?”
His face was so full of pain and anguish, I melted in to a puddle of guilt and regret. “I think so,” I said in a whisper.
“Do you know what it does to me when I think you might be in danger? And particularly when I can’t get to you?”
I nodded carefully. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him I felt safe here in the piazza. This was about his feelings.
“Can you…would you be so kind as to avoid putting me in that position in the future?”
“As best I can, my love,” I said, forcing the words out.
His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled me into his arms, then held my face between his powerful hands, searching my eyes as if wishing he could read my mind, know everything in me, of me.
I lifted my chin, wanting his kiss, wanting his forgiveness, wanting to feel close to him again. After hesitating a moment, he obliged me. Then he took my hand and led me out of the alcove. I felt like All Kinds of Loser.
He was going to be seriously ticked at me tomorrow when the boys came calling. But what was I supposed to do? I wanted his brother freed as badly as he did. And if it was just me and Lia standing in the way of a family reunion, keeping him from saving Fortino…well, that simply had to be fixed.
One way or another.
Chapter Five
The men arrived when we were mostly done with our noon meal the next day. A servant came to the table and leaned over Marcello’s shoulder. “M’lord, there are three men here to see you. They say it is urgent.”
I picked at a chicken bone on my wooden trencher, a medieval kind of platter, half-full of uneaten food, unable to look at him. Or my parents. They might know something was up.
“Who are they?”
“Signores Salvatori, Bastiani, and Bonaduce,” he said.
Marcello paused, then carefully set his knife on the edge of his trencher. “Tell them to return again on the morrow, an hour later, so as to not disturb our sup.”
“Very well, m’lord.”
“Wait!” I cried. Too loud, Gabs. I sounded as jumpy as I felt. “Is it not wise for one of the Nine to listen to his people, even if he does not care to?”
Marcello paused and stared at me for a long moment. Then he said to the maid, “I’ll be in the Great Hall in five minutes. Apparently m’lady wishes to take visi
tors.”
I gave him a small smile. I knew he had done me an honor, giving in even when it wasn’t my place to jump into the mix. Way to go, Gabi. Sneaker. Betrayer. You should just tell him. Tell him, before it’s too late.
Lia, Luca, and I rose with him, but my parents stayed behind after accepting second portions of chicken and bread. “They don’t make it like this anymore,” my father whispered, lifting a woodstove-charred crust into the air.
I smiled. “They haven’t for a while.”
I placed my hand on Marcello’s arm, and we moved toward the Great Hall. I was trying to figure out a way to tell him, warn him what was to come, but he obviously already knew that these guys were after Fortino’s rescue. Was I really holding that big a secret? I had simply made sure they would be heard.
Marcello and Luca settled on chairs at the far end of the hall, and Lia and I moved to stand beside the tall shuttered windows that looked out at the piazza, cracked open for a bit of fresh air to ward off the smoke from the hearth. Lia and I stared down at the piazza as men finished packing up their tents and wooden crates from the market, heading home for their own noon meal and siesta.
That morning, I’d told her what was coming down.
And she’d agreed to take part. I didn’t know what this place had done to my sister, but I liked it. Suddenly she was all Guts and Sass and Bring It. I guess that came with the territory.
Marcello nodded to the servant, and the man moved off to fetch the visitors. They returned quickly, and I could feel my stomach clench over what was to come. It was good Mom and Dad weren’t here for this. That’d complicate it even more.
The men entered the hall, strode to the end, and bowed before Marcello and Luca, who remained seated. Totally the lord meeting his people. It was a little weird; I’d seen Marcello lead men into battle, but he’d never really assumed the lord title, with Fortino being the older of the two. Now, as one of the Nine and with Fortino gone so long, I supposed it was what was expected of him. But again, I felt a little like he’d grown up a bit without me in the year we’d been apart.
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