Authors: Fiona Paul
“He works for the dottore who does research for Dubois, and
then he suddenly works for the Florentine head of the Order, and
you’re really naïve enough to think he’s not involved?”
“He’s not. I promise you. I can’t explain it,” she said. “I just know
it.”
“I see.” Luca paused for a moment. “So let me ask you again, Cassandra. Do you love him?”
Did she love Falco? Two months ago she would have said yes.
Two weeks ago she would have said no. And then tonight when he
showed up at the palazzo, everything had become muddled again.
“I’m not sure,” Cass admitted. “But I know I love—”
Luca cut her off. “You realize my sentence, as handed down by
the Senate, nullified our engagement contract, right?” He looked
down at the ground.
“Well, I suppose, but I—”
“Perhaps it was foolish of me not to clarify that, to assume that
you wanted things to stay as they were.” He looked up, eyes hard.
Empty. “Consider yourself officially released of any obligation to
me.”
“But Luca, I don’t want—”
“Clearly you don’t know what you want, Cassandra. And you
won’t figure it out with me by your side.”
“No, that’s not true.” Cass reached out for his hand. “Don’t leave
like this. Please give me a chance to make you understand.”
“I do understand,” Luca said. “That’s the problem.” He squared
his shoulders again and considered her disguise. “Am I correct in
assuming you have a safe place to sleep tonight?” He had stripped his
voice of emotion. She might as well have been a servant of his, a servant who had fallen out of favor.
Cass assumed she could continue to stay at Palazzo Dolce. “Yes,
but not—”
Luca cut her off. “Then you should go there.”
“But where will
you
go?”
“Do not worry about me.” His voice wavered, but only for a brief
moment. “I’m not as helpless—or naïve—as you seem to think.” And
with that, he turned his back on her and walked quickly down the
road along the canal.
Cass stood alone, watching as he vanished into the darkness.