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eyes to let it go. I’ll fill you in later, he seemed to be saying.
    “My father discovered the treachery,” Lady Rossi said. “He went to Marcello, and they captured both the doctor and Lord Foraboschi as they tried to escape to Firenze.”
    “Trust me when I say that they paid for their crimes,” Fortino said. “Men shall think twice before aiding our enemy.”
    But the doctor and Lord Foraboschi had been close to the Rossis for years. My eyes flicked over Romana, who was adoringly looking up at Fortino. How could her father, one of the ruling Nine, be so duped?
    I wasn’t buying it, but Fortino seemed earnest, like he was trying to reassure me with this news. Perhaps Romana was innocent after all…and I was being overly suspicious. “I am glad to hear that they faced justice and are dead,” I said to Fortino. “I confess, I worried they might still be about.”
    Mom tucked her head, frowning at my radical words. It’d take her a little while to get into this It’s Us or Them mind-set. Not that I was eager for her to know that the Fiorentini were on an all-out search for me and Lia. Marcello’s odd hesitation, and the look I’d caught the brothers sharing, made me return my attention to him.
    Marcello edged closer. He shook his head a little. “Gabriella, they were tortured and imprisoned. But they were recently traded for Sienese prisoners.”
    He took my hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Romana stiffening. “They are far from here, Gabriella. No one shall harm you again. Not if I can help it.”
    They were beautiful, warm words. But I knew that no person could protect another from death. Life was life—temporary, a blip on the screen. The doctor had poisoned me while Marcello danced with Romana in the same room! And Dad had died on a road not two miles from our apartment, maybe ten minutes after talking to Mom on the phone.
    My eyes moved to Romana. Castello Forelli still might have a devil within her gates, a serious threat. Staring at her—pretty, demure, all Girl in Love—I knew I had to be right.
    Or was I just jealous, wanting her gone from my life? This woman who almost became Marcello’s wife?

 
    CHAPTER 3
     
    Fortino called for a feast that evening, and within hours, we were sitting down to a table laden with roasted hens, roast pig, figs, currants, pears in Greek-wine syrup, meat pies, and generous loaves of bread. I spread a dollop of churned butter on my bread and eyed my mother as Fortino asked where we had finally been reunited.
    “I was in Piacenza, convalescing from a fall,” she said. I had never known my mother to lie, but she did so with convincing authority. “My hired men turned on me, stole everything I had, and fled.” She shook her head in dismay.
    “How horrid,” Romana said. “’Tis not safe for a woman to travel alone. Who might we thank for preserving you?”
    Fortino coughed, and Romana immediately stood to pour more water into his goblet.
    I stared for a moment. Since when did Romana play the servant? That was a new one. But even as she was pouring, she returned her gaze to my mother, not letting her off the hook.
    “If it had not been for the kindness of pilgrims on the Via Francigena, I might have perished.” Smart, my mother was. Brilliant, really. Pilgrims on a holy road would be impossible to find and question. Gone come sunrise. Scattered.
    Romana’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Wherever did you stay, m’lady? With what funds?”
    Mom stared back at her, the hint of a smile on her lips. “The pilgrims paid for my lodging, leaving me enough to see me to health.”
    “Just like the good Samaritan,” Fortino said, patting Romana’s hand as if to say, That’s enough now. Let it go.
    “Indeed,” said my mother. “My daughters found me just before I would have been cast out.”
    “Saints be praised,” Fortino said.
    “Saints be praised,” said the rest of the table.
    But Romana’s voice was little more than a