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Authors: Fiona Paul

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“Life scars both the skin and the soul.”
—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE
twenty-two
C

ass and Maximus located the batèlas tied off a slab of
rock just where Luca said they would be. The sea had
gotten even wilder, and she stood back from the water,
her footing unsure on the slick stone.
“It’s not much, but it’ll float,” Maximus said, approaching the

sturdier looking of the two craft.

The wind threatened to steal away his hat, and he removed it,
tucking it into the pocket of his breeches, letting his dark hair twist
in the breeze. He was in the process of loosening the ropes when
Cass saw the wavering shadow of someone moving behind them.
Drawing her dagger, she spun around.

Luca stood, backlit by the moon, a sword dangling from his belt.
A leather vest hung open over his plain shirt, and a cloth bag dangled
from one hand. Cass opened her mouth to speak, but Maximus
found words before her.

“Signore? Is everything all right?” he asked. A small wave crashed
up onto the rocks, soaking his boots and breeches.
“Rowan suggested I return with the two of you. He thought a


254

proper meal and a night’s rest in a real bed would do me more good
than another half day of training.” Luca looked questioningly at
Cass. “If that’s all right with you, of course.”

“I’m certain Octavia could find you a place to sleep at Palazzo
Dolce . . . if that’s all right with you,” she said slowly. Luca was not
the kind of man who bedded down in brothels. Cass worried he
might think ill of her once he saw where she had been staying. Still,
he stood before her with his arm outstretched, and she would not
turn him away.

“Anything would be an improvement over sleeping outside on the
hard ground and eating the same beans every day,” Luca said, his
mouth tilting into a shy smile.

Maximus chuckled. “Welcome to my childhood,” he said. “I
haven’t been able to stomach a plate of beans since I came of age.”
Then, after a moment, he gestured toward the boat. “The sea’s not
getting any friendlier tonight, I’m afraid. We should go.”

The ride was dark and wild. Luca did his best to shelter Cass from
the wind and water, and Maximus expertly steered the batèla, but
by the time they reached the dock closest to Palazzo Dolce, all three
of them were damp and windblown. Flavia answered the door, her
pretty brow furrowing at Cass’s disheveled appearance, but she fell
quiet when she saw Luca standing behind her. Maximus excused
himself to find Octavia.

“This way.” Cass led Luca up the stairs to her little room. “It’s not
much,” she said.
Luca looked around at the small bed, the furnishings, the tarnished candelabra creaking above their heads. “It’s a far cry better
than Mezzanotte Island,” he said.
“Yes.” Cass smiled. She still couldn’t believe she had found him
again, and that he was looking tenderly at her. “I prefer it to being
imprisoned, I must say.”
“Imprisoned?”
Cass slipped out of her damp shoes and padded across the room
to her bed. She took a seat on the edge and patted the area next to her.
“Best get comfortable,” she said. “It seems we have a lot of catching
up to do.”
Luca shucked off his vest and sat next to her on the bed, his
warmth perfuming the room’s air and causing Cass’s heart to beat
erratically. She told him what had happened since they’d parted
ways. About the capture and the prison and the fire. She told him
about Cristian, but she didn’t tell him about Falco.
Luca’s face went red. A vein throbbed at his temple as he pounded
one fist against the bed. “I cannot believe my half brother dared to
touch you again. Is he dead, at least?”
“No,” Cass said. “At least I don’t think so. I don’t know where he
is.”
Luca turned to her. “
Santo cielo,
” he muttered, his voice practically a growl. “Cristian is the reason you’re alive? What sort of bizarre twist of fate is that? I went to that workshop the day we got
separated. I saw only a dark-haired fellow emerge. It must have been
this Piero you were speaking of.”
Cass nodded. “He’s dead now. Belladonna, too.”
Falco, too.
She
saw his bright blue eyes in front of her for a moment, and her chest
caved sharply. It would be a long time before she forgave herself for
the role she had played in his death. He never should have come to

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