The plot thickens...
The Duke D’Urbino arrived in a cloud of glitter and dust. Horsemen on gleaming mounts, carriages laden with trunks, dogs, and servants in matching livery paraded into the receiving courtyard of the palace. The duke’s carriage stopped with the door at the red carpet that had been rolled out in his honor. Clearly, belonging to a scheming, power-grubbing family did not reduce the pompousness of the ceremony if the man was marrying a princess. Her father was clearly trying to butter them up.
Gabby would have skipped this all if she could. Somewhere near her favorite tower, there was a baby being born and she needed two questions answered. Desperation clawed at her ribs. It was her only plan and time was skittering by. Of course, the king stayed inside. He would come out to see his son off to war, but never came to meet dignitaries. They had to go meet him in the throne room where he could sit on a dais and look down his nose at them just so they knew their place.
Curiosity still held some of her attention on the lead carriage. Inside was the man she would have to marry if she couldn’t act fast enough. She hoped that he would be tolerable, should she fail.
Will was torn as he watched the carriages arrive. He wanted the duke to be prematurely balding and have a lisp, but for Gabby’s sake he felt generous enough to wish that he wasn’t completely revolting. He looked around for Niccolo Machiavelli, sure that he was wetting his pants with excitement. Stupid jerk.
Somewhere in the entourage, trumpets began playing a tune and a man with white gloves opened the door to the duke’s carriage. What emerged first was a leg in silk hose, then a red brocade doublet, and finally a man with a head of shiny black hair and a gleaming smile complete with a deep dimple on the right side.
Will wanted to curse.
“Bonjiorno!” he called, waving a hand. It looked as though he’d never used them. Gabby looked down at hers. There was some dirt under her nails from working with the seedlings this morning and a bit of paint on her third finger where she gripped her brush. She smiled.
The gravel crunched under his shiny shoes as he sauntered down the red carpet, the gold embroidery on his stockings glinting in the sun. Sauntering, he flashed smiles at the crowd, making his way to Gabby as she stood at the foot of the stairs.
It was time for all those formal manners she’d been taught. Perhaps this would be the first time she did her training justice.
Suddenly, Niccolo was at her left elbow, breathing loudly. “Good morning, your grace, and welcome.” He made a low bow, which the duke acknowledged with a nod. “Allow me to introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Gabriella Persephone Almondine Jane.”
He made an unnecessary, elaborate gesture toward Gabby, who made a low courtesy. Will studied her face, but could not glean her reaction to the duke from her passive expression.
Without hesitation, and with definite appreciation gleaming in his eyes, the duke took Gabby’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I am honored,” he said. “Seniore Machiavelli told me of your beauty, but you are much more beautiful that could possibly be described with words.”
Now Will wanted to puke as soon as he was finished cursing.
“The honor is mine, sir.” She extracted her hand and gestured toward the palace’s large entrance, “Please come in. I’m sure you’re tired.”
The duke offered his arm to Gabby, who looked at it for a moment before accepting it. They made a regal couple at the head of the entourage following them into the palace. Will, a brackish taste in his mouth, trailed behind.
The ceremonial meeting between the king and the duke stretched interminably while Gabby struggled to focus. Will had wandered off somewhere without saying much, so Gabby stood with Isabella by her side and said nothing while the men discussed politics, hunting, and the weather. The king showed no sign of anxiety about the queen or the baby, no matter how Gabby searched for signs. He must not know yet, or he was a very good actor.
It took a lot of self-control to keep from tapping her foot. Surely the baby had been born by now. She reached into her pocket and ran her fingers along the golden ball’s etchings, wondering what Claudio would have been doing if he’d been there.
Eventually, lunch was announced and the king led the procession into the dining hall where each place had been set with golden plates and goblets. Gabby hadn’t seen these settings since Claudio’s birthday and knew full well that they were set out in honor of the duke, not herself.
No one seemed to think it necessary that Gabby sit near the man she was supposed to marry. He sat on the king’s right hand, the queen’s usual place. Gabby was seated further down, but near enough that she could still overhear their conversation.
Will was still gone, so she picked at her meat, setting aside bits for him without realizing what she was doing.
“So,” said Isabella in a low voice. “What do you think of the Duke D’Urbino?”
A corner of Gabby’s mouth lifted into a half smile. “He’s handsome, I suppose.”
“Yes. You suppose correctly. Anything else?”
“He seems very politically savvy. Machiavelli must like that.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged. “It’s good, I guess, to be shrewd if you’re going to be a leader.”
“I’d say he and Machiavelli have very similar ideas about leadership.”
“So does the king.” Gabby sighed. The mutton had a funny aftertaste today.
“He doesn’t seem to share your interests.”
Gabby caught her frown and straightened it back into a passive expression. “It would be silly to expect a man to share my fascination with the English, or art.”
“He said he liked art.”
“He said he liked patronizing artists because they are excellent at manipulating the ideas and emotions of the people.”
“That’s almost the same thing.” Isabella bit her lip. It almost looked like she was trying to hide a smile.
Gabby looked at her, “Do you want me to like him?”
“Will likes your art.”
“What are you getting at?” She was becoming impatient with Isabella. These comments and questions seemed so random.
“Will also wishes he could dance with you. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed the way he watches you during dancing lessons.”
This last comment left Gabby breathless and she couldn’t find words for a response.
“Claudio used to look at me like that.”
Gabby bowed her head. Her words came out a whisper, “Please, Isabella. Stop. If I can’t get out of this, you’ll only make it worse.”
“Oh!” said Isabella, her eyes brightened. “So you were planning on doing something? Why didn’t you say so?”
“I don’t have a plan. I can’t think of anything and I’ve only got two hours.” The idiocy of still trying at this point struck her and she almost laughed.
“Well, any ideas?”
“My only hope is that the baby is a boy, but even then the king must have a backup plan for me to still marry the duke. I can’t figure out what it is.”
“Ask him.”
“I don’t see that helping.”
“You won’t learn anything if you don’t ask anything. Besides, he’s in front of all these people. It would hardly keep up the façade of familial unity if he refuses to answer his daughter’s questions.”
Biting her lip, she grabbed at words and flung them out, loud enough to interrupt the jokes about the wedding night. “So, Lorenzo.”
Everyone turned their heads to stare at Gabriella, who ignored them. Instead, she gave her best approximation of an alluring smile to the duke and continued her comment, “I am very interested in getting to know you.”
The duke grinned, showing off his dimple. “And I, you.” He leaned in her direction, “But I hardly think this is the proper place to get to know everything.”
He smirked and a couple of men slapped him on the back. Gabby fought the redness that crept into her cheeks. “You are correct, my lord, but I can study your character in a dining hall, I hope.”
“I will bare everything to you.” He winked, “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
This comment led to more guffaws from the men. Gabby gritted her teeth. “How delightful.” She glanced at the king’s face. He was scowling at her.
This gave her courage. “I adore metaphors. I also adore hypotheticals. Let me give you one now. You can tell a lot about someone by how they answer a hypothetical situation.”
“I am ready for anything you’d like to give me.”
More laughter.
“Very well, I will give you a story and you will finish it with what pleases you.”
“Go on.”
“Once upon a time,” she deliberately used the fairy tale language and her father’s frown deepened. “There was a king and a queen who had only a daughter and no heir to the throne. Though they had tried for years, they had no heir,” she tried to remember Will’s wording, “or a spare.”
The duke smiled in recognition when he heard the phrase.
“They had no one to pass their kingdom on to, so they decided that they would have a contest among all the men in the kingdom to see who was most worthy of the crown and the princess’ hand in marriage.”
She paused to take a sip from her goblet, mostly to give herself time to think before she continued, “Many men came, both young and old. The competition was fierce, but finally, a young nobleman was declared the winner. He came from a powerful family and was a shrewd man. The marriage was a week later. During the feast, the new prince gave a toast to the king and queen saying, ‘I wish that you’d been able to have a son of your own, but I am glad to be adopted as your heir to fill the void.’ “
The king looked definitely uncomfortable, but no one noticed.
“A mischievous fairy was at the banquet and heard the toast. She decided to grant the prince’s wish. Nine months later, the king and queen rejoiced when the queen gave birth to a baby boy. Now they had an heir and a spare.” Gabby folded her hands together underneath the table to hide how much they were shaking. She wasn’t sure if this would work and if it did, what would happen to her. “Tell me, Duke, what do you think the nobleman prince would do?”
“Well, that entirely depends,” he said, “on whether it was reality or a fairy tale.” He raised an eyebrow and picked up his fork, “The pretty, fairy tale answer would be that he loved the baby as his brother.”
“And if it’s not a fairy tale?” Gabby flicked her gaze over to the king. It looked as though the vein on his left temple would burst soon. No one else seemed to notice.
Lorenzo de Medici leaned back in his chair, “Seniore Machiavelli could answer this one as well.” He turned to the ambassador, who hastily swallowed his potatoes, though a bit of gravy still dribbled down his chin. “Tell us, Niccolo, what should the prince do?”
Gabby’s heart was beating so fast, she worried that she might not be able to hear over the rushing sound in her ears.
Machiavelli gave a wicked smile, clearly relishing the answer, “He would have the baby killed and make it look like an accident, for if the baby grows to manhood, the king or the young prince might kill the nobleman prince and take the throne as the rightful heir.”
“What an interesting story,” burst in the king. “Gabriella, your tutors have been filling your head with nonsense if this is all the dinner conversation you can muster.” He cast a nervous glance toward both Machiavelli and the duke.
“If nonsense is what is proper to fill my head with, then that is what they have done,” she replied, lifting her chin.
Now she knew and the king knew that she knew.
Now she had a solution.
Gabby’s hands were shaking as she struggled to get out of her dress. Isabella kept slapping her hands away from the various buckles, ties, and buttons.
“Stop. You’re only making it worse,” said Isabella, batting at Gabby’s hand again.
“Faster. We have to get me changed faster.” She began pulling the pearl netting from her hair.
“I’m trying. Stop! You’re tangling everything!” The net was caught on a pin that Gabby couldn’t see. She pulled it free before Gabby had a chance to give it a hard yank that would have ruined the net.
“Isabella, I need you to find out if it’s a boy or a girl for me.”
“I have no business being up there. I could get killed. You know now that this is a life-or-death secret and I don’t dare—“
“Fine. I’ll do it myself. I’ll just be late for the ceremony.” As it was, she barely had enough time to dress, not to mention find Will and try their very last option. She couldn’t think about what she was going to have to do and what might happen to Will.
“You know you don’t have time.” Isabella studied Gabby. “Oh, fine. Just because it would be nice for one of us to get to marry the man we wanted.”
Isabella pulled the bodice over Gabby’s head. “Besides, Claudio would have wanted me to.”
Gabby grabbed Isabella’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
Running was strictly forbidden, so Gabriella felt great pleasure as she sprinted through the halls. She still couldn’t find Will, but she hoped that he remembered and was waiting at the tower. They’d discussed that it was the best place to drop him from, as it would have the greatest impact.
Isabella stopped next to the queen’s door and gave a small wave as Gabby kept going. She looked nervous.
Legs burning, Gabby finally made it up the last of the stairs and threw open the door. “Will!”
She didn’t hear anything for several agonizing seconds.
Finally, a sniffle, and then, “Yeah?”
“Whew! I found you!”
Huddled on the edge of the tower’s wall, he was looking down. Reaching up with a skinny arm, he wiped at his nostrils. “Yup. I’m here.”
“Have—have you been crying?” She knelt next to him, unsure of how to react.
Turning toward her, he said, “What does it look like?”
His face was definitely wet. Very wet. And his eyes were bloodshot.
“Oh, Will, I—“
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Probably allergies.”
Gabby shook her head. “You can’t fool me. I wish we had more time or I would wrestle it out of you. The ceremony is going to start any second and after the stunt I just pulled at lunch, I’m pretty sure the king will send guards after me if I don’t show up.”
“What stunt?” Part of him hoped she’d slapped the duke.
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
He scoffed, “If there is a later.”
“There has to be, Will. This has to be the solution.” She hoped that her doubts didn’t muddy the tone of her voice too much. “Remember, I’m doing this because I want you to be happy.” She finished the sentence in her head, because I love you.
She took him into her hands, relishing the feel of his cool skin and hoping it wasn’t the last time her skin would touch his. His heart was whirring in the palm of her hand and she was sure she could feel her rapid pulse as well.
“Let’s do this,” he said, closing his eyes as tight as he could.
Instead, she brought him up to her face and kissed him on the top of his head. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, her breath tickling him. The air around her sizzled with anticipation, tingling on her skin.
This was it.
She drew her arm back, feeling the heaviness of each bite of food she’d eaten at lunch. If this doesn’t work, I might be sick.
The breeze picked up speed and the air almost shimmered in the golden sunshine.
Will relished the warmth of Gabby’s hand and one tear trickled out of his clenched eyelids. She would marry someone else and today he would die either emotionally or physically. This was as good as it was going to get.
They could hear voices in the stairwell. “Search the tower! She has to be here somewhere!”
“Goodbye Gabriella,” he said.
She swung her arm forward and Will sailed over the edge of the wall, plummeting toward an unknown fate.
Frozen, she listened for the sound of his impact, counting the beats of her heart until she could hear it. Whatever the sound, it was masked by the stomping of feet and the door being thrown open.
“There she is!”
Several soldiers, including the one Acantha regularly flirted with, stepped forward. One on each side grabbed her elbows.
“Wait! Please!” she dug in her heels. “I’ll come to the ceremony, I promise. I just need to see something.”
They were pulling her away from the edge. She couldn’t see where Will had landed. Was he alive?
If these were his last moments, she wanted to be with him, but she didn’t know.
“No, your highness. We’ve had our orders. You’re coming with us.”
“Wait! No!” She fought to free her arms. “Please, then,” she begged, “Someone look over the edge and tell me if you can see the frog.”
The captain gestured to one of the men behind her. A second later, he called from the edge, “I don’t see nothin’.”
“Are you sure? Not a little bit of green?”
“Come on,” said the captain. “We answered your question. Enough stalling. Now you’re coming with us.”
They lifted her by the elbows so that her feet no longer touched the ground and escorted her down the stairs.
Oh no! What happened to Will? How dare I leave you hanging! Well, have no fear, the next chapter is already uploaded. Ba-Da!