“Our father had just passed on and he felt responsible for our mother and me, so he exercised his right to veto. The court was left with no choice but to appoint Count Gregario as temporary ruler.”
“And the only way he can regain the throne is to marry Matilda?”
Adalina shrugged. “A few months ago, my mother told him not to delay marriage any longer for our sakes. She even made him promise he’d be married by his twenty-third birthday. Just between you and me, I think she’s eager to become a grandmother,” she whispered.
Marisa’s shoulders sank. “He deserves to be happy.”
“He just turned twenty-two, so it doesn’t give him much time. It’s been a running joke in our family who will be married first—him or me,” Adalina said, giggling.
“I don’t understand. Is Prince Darian required to find you a suitable husband, or are you allowed to choose for yourself?”
“Are you asking if I must marry a Fiore prince? Well, the answer is no, but he must be of noble blood,” Adalina said, setting her teacup down gently on the saucer.
“So, basically, your options are pretty limited, then.”
Adalina nodded. “Darian has been combing the entire kingdom for an acceptable suitor. But in the end, he always says that no man is ever good enough for me. Personally, I think that’s his excuse for never marrying. No woman is ever good enough for Darian Fiore.”
Marisa stared at her plate. She wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Can you keep a secret?” Adalina whispered.
Marisa nodded slowly.
“I’ve had a secret love for several months—Gervasio. I can’t marry him, though. He’s a common man. I was ready to run away with him even though it would have hurt Darian and my mother.”
“What happened to him?”
“He left on a ship bound for Terracina. I received a letter from him a few days ago. He refused to see me ever again—not because he doesn’t love me but because he doesn’t want to stand in my way of finding happiness with someone worthy of me.”
“Oh, Adalina, I’m so sorry.”
“When I received his letter, it nearly broke my heart.”
“I know,” Marisa said sympathetically.
“What?”
“I mean, I know how you feel. Falling in love with a person you know you can never be with is pretty devastating.”
“Neither my mother nor my brother know, Lady Marisa.”
“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise.”
“Thank you, Lady Marisa.”
“Please—just call me Marisa.”
“All right, Marisa.”
“Oh, uh, Princess Adalina? About the funeral—I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or where to sit or anything.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Cozimo comes to brief you before the ceremony starts,” she said, getting up to leave.
“Thank you, Adalina.”
“You’re welcome, Marisa.”
Marisa just had to get out of the palace for a little while.
She decided to go out riding on Sienna before the pomp and ceremony later that afternoon. As she hurried back to her room to change into her riding clothes, she peeked outside at the storm clouds brewing and hoped she wouldn’t get drenched.
A few minutes later, she lifted her skirts and dashed through the main corridor as quickly as possible. It wasn’t very ladylike, but Savino was expected to reach the castle at any moment and she wasn’t ready to face him yet.
Everyone in the palace seemed to be adhering strictly to the rule of wearing black out of respect for the monarch’s death, so she hoped she wouldn’t cause a stir by wearing her brown riding outfit. The palace servants all seemed too busy to notice her as she slipped down to the lowest level of the citadel.
She entered the stables and maneuvered carefully around a pile of manure toward Siena’s stall. Her feed trough was empty. Spotting a storeroom filled with burlap sacks, she slipped in to find some oats. One of the sacks was open and as she reached down to get a handful, the door of the storeroom fell shut.
Suddenly she froze.
The sounds of men’s voices and horses’ hooves on the cobblestones grew louder as she heard them entering the stables. She stepped up closer to peek through a slit in the door and saw a man removing his saddle. It was Savino plus another man she couldn’t see. She moved to the rear of the storeroom and hid behind some sacks of oats.
The other man led the horses into their stalls and secured the iron locks. He was saying something to Savino, but all she could hear was static. The earpiece was unable to translate above the clanging noise.
“Are you’re sure that no one suspects anything?” Savino asked.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said. “Rest assured that everything shall go according to plan.” She recognized his voice. It was Gaspar.
“Well, you must make sure that the poison does not find its way into the wrong goblet. We cannot afford any mistakes at this point. One slip-up and the entire plan falls. This is war.”
“I understand, sire.”
“When I am at last seated on the throne, you shall be elevated to knighthood, Gaspar.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
She tapped on her earpiece as the men left the stables, but there was no further translation. They must have been out of range. She waited a few minutes before she cautiously peered outside. There didn’t seem to be anyone around except the guards posted down at the main gate. Darian had to be told about Savino’s plan before it was too late.
She glanced up toward the citadel and spotted Bruno crossing the courtyard toward the Knights’ Hall. She dashed up toward him and grabbed his arm, pulling him behind a low wall. After checking to make sure they could not be seen from the castle windows, Marisa turned to him, still struggling to catch her breath.
“Milady, what is this? How may I be of service?” Bruno smiled suggestively at her.
“Go get Arrie,” she managed, heaving. He looked at her with a puzzled face but didn’t move. She rolled her eyes. “Arrigo,” she said simply and motioned toward the citadel. All at once he understood her and bowed briefly before dashing off.
She waited impatiently until Bruno returned with Arrie.
“What is this, Marisa?” Arrie asked, panting. She looked at Bruno to excuse him so they could talk in private. But like a bellhop waiting for a tip, he just stood there and stared at her, waiting patiently for some sort of thank you.
Knowing he wouldn’t leave any other way, Marisa finally gave Bruno a quick peck on the cheek and shooed him off. He laughed as he left and she smiled in spite of herself.
“Now what’s this all about?” Arrie asked.
“Come! Follow me down to the stables first,” she said.
Marisa hurried down to the stables as Arrie followed her with a puzzled face. She checked all the stalls and storeroom to make sure they were alone and then grabbed her tack.
“Savino and Gaspar arrived here just a few minutes ago. I was spying on them in the stables and overheard them discussing a plan to poison someone.” She unlatched Siena’s stall. “I think they were talking about Darian.”
“Poison?” Arrie asked. “Are you sure you heard them correctly?”
“Oh, yeah. Savino told Gaspar to make sure the poison didn’t ‘get into the wrong goblet’ or something to that effect.” She fitted the bridle around the horse’s muzzle and looked at Arrie. “Savino also mentioned something about being at war. What are we going to do?” she asked.
“We are going to do nothing. I will go and alert Darian of Savino’s plan. I’m not yet certain what he’s up to, but if he’s discussing poisoning someone, that’s not good.”
Arrie stopped. “Wait—where are you going?”
“I was gonna go out for a ride, but now I’m starting to have second thoughts. Maybe I shouldn’t leave the castle.”
“Don’t worry about anything,” he said. “Go and take your ride, but be back by twelve-thirty. Cozimo will co
me to your chambers at one o’clock to run through the protocol before the ceremony starts. I shall go find Darian and inform him right away.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“I thought I’d ride out to Castle Beauriél,” she said, mounting Siena. “I wanted to take another look before I move in.”
“Well, please be careful. Do you remember how to get there?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
He pointed toward the edge of town. “You just keep to the main road out of the city for about three miles, and at a certain point, you’ll see the gates on the right side. Wait just a minute.”
Arrie felt around in his pockets and then finally pulled out a small brass key. Smiling, he handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“What? You just happen to have a key to Castle Beauriél in your pocket?” Marisa asked, laughing.
“It’s a skeleton key. It will open nearly all of the doors at the castle and some of the royal residences. Nobody’s supposed to know I have it, though, so whatever you do, don’t lose it!”
“I know, I know,” she said.
“Now, get going. I’m off to tell Darian.”
Marisa pulled the hood of her cape over her head and dug her heels gently into Siena’s belly. She rode through the rampart tunnel and passed under the portcullis into the main street.
After a few hundred yards, she recognized the house with a blue door and realized it was Celino’s. She quickly tied Siena’s reins off at the gate and knocked on the door. The old woman opened it and stared at her blankly.
“Master Celino is not at home. He’s gone away for a few days, and I can’t tell you when he’ll be back.” The woman shut the door.
Puzzled, Marisa walked back up the short path and loosened Siena’s reins. Celino had promised to come to the ball the next day. Why would he suddenly decide last minute to go on a trip?
She climbed back up on Siena and rode down to the outer walls of the city. After they had passed through the gates into the countryside, she was stunned by the emerald hues of the rolling hills. She thought about her trip out to Castle Beauriél with Darian just a couple of days before and it hit her how much she enjoyed his company.
Now that she had decided to marry Savino, Marisa resigned herself not to dwell on Darian any longer. But the memories of their journey together kept creeping back into her mind. She didn’t want to shut them off.
At last she reached the iron gates of Beauriél and climbed down off Siena. As she continued on foot, the wide lane flanked with mature trees seemed longer than she’d remembered. The branches above swayed in the breeze and the only sound she could hear was the wind blowing through the trees. It was peaceful stillness that refreshed her soul after the frantic, busy days of the palace.
As the façade of the castle slowly came into view, she gasped at the sheer beauty of it. The autumn leaves were piling up all around the house and they would need a gardener to trim back the trees and shrubs that had gotten too big, but basically the house was ready to move in.
She secured Siena’s reins around a large tree and ascended the steps to the front door. Thanks to the small skeleton key from Arrie, she entered the grand foyer effortlessly and admired its decorative details for the second time.
Marisa had only been inside for less than a minute when she felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The wave of nausea spread out through her entire body until she had the sensation of being squeezed by a boa constrictor. Her breathing became labored as she collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. She fought for air and a wave of panic gripped her.
What is happening to me?
She rested her chin between her knees and tried to take long, deep breaths. She concentrated on slowing her breathing down as the words from her father’s letter suddenly popped into her head:
You will be confronted with many choices in your life, but always strive for what is good and right, and never settle for less than that which is worthy and worthwhile.
Marisa began to wonder if she’d made the right decision about marrying Savino. She didn’t know him very well and she wasn’t sure she could spend the rest of her life with him. Her thoughts turned to Darian and Arrie. Being around them seemed so natural that she couldn’t imagine not having them in her life anymore.
She quietly began to pray.
Garon, I don’t know which path to choose. Show me which way to go. Both ways seem like a dead end. If it isn’t possible to share a future with the man I love, should I go with the other? I don’t want to make the wrong decision, and I need help. I will try to trust you to help me find my way. Amen.
Still trying to keep her breathing under control, she grabbed the railing and slowly pulled herself up. She walked into the adjacent room, but the deathly stillness made her jittery. Somehow, being at Castle Beauriél without Darian felt eerie and the stillness of the house seemed unnatural. And all of a sudden, Marisa couldn’t imagine living in the castle alone.
Her eyes roamed the room. It was a large living area that connected to a dining hall. She peeked in and saw the long table that would seat at least sixteen people. Her fingers felt the smoothness of the table as she admired its hand-carved legs and matching chairs.
She pulled out a chair to feel its velvety cushion and suddenly the entire room sprung to life. The table was instantly filled with all kinds of foods and decorated in a festive manner for the holiday season. Each chair was occupied by a different family member as they all sat down to enjoy Christmas dinner.
The room was filled with laughter, smiles, and the mixed fragrance of delicious food and warm company. A young mother sat at the table facing her, and Marisa was stunned to see it was an older version of herself. Several children, aunts, and uncles were talking and laughing, enjoying the holiday feast together.
The vision of the family faded away, and in the place of the young mother, Marisa saw herself as an old woman sitting alone at the long table on Christmas Eve. She moved closer to observe her old self, but the wrinkle-faced woman was oblivious to her.
A servant brought her food on a silver tray, but the old woman didn’t even seem to notice as she sipped her wine in lonely silence. Marisa could smell the stench of regret hanging in the air as she reached out to touch the old woman’s face. Her hand went right through her as if she was a ghost and she quickly pulled it back again. The old woman could not see or hear Marisa as she dined alone in her solitude.
All of a sudden it occurred to her that she was seeing a glimpse of two distinct pathways for her life. One of them was just a possibility, and the other was destined to be.
But which was which?
The vision of the old woman faded away, and she moved to the glass doors to view the expansive gardens. Another vision materialized as she gazed outside and saw herself tossing a ball to her young son on a bright spring day. The boy was laughing, and she smiled to him while a little girl ran to grab her around the legs.
The three on the lawn slowly faded away, and instantly she saw the old woman version of herself resting in a chair on the terrace. She was bundled up in a blanket as she stared blankly into the forest. Dried leaves blew across the grass as the woman sipped her tea. Her face was worn with grief and loneliness. A tear rolled down Marisa’s cheek and she quickly looked away. When she looked again, the old woman was gone.
Marisa climbed the steps to take a look upstairs. The antique boards creaked under her weight as she walked down the long hallway and peeked into each of the bedrooms. When she came to the large chamber at the end of the hall, she stopped. The room was filled with luxurious furnishings and there was a large bed against the far wall. There were four large windows that looked out over the front of the house onto the driveway.
As she looked at the bed, Marisa saw herself once again as a mother reading a story to four small children all squashed under the covers on either side of her. When the story was over, the mother chased them all down
the hall into their own bedrooms. Marisa watched with a smile as she kissed and tucked each one in.
Turning back toward the master bedroom, she saw herself as an old woman again, lying alone in the big bed. The woman had been reading, but she stopped to stare out the window just as the rain began to hit the window panes. She crept out of bed and sauntered down the hall, peering into each of the empty rooms. The woman’s lip quivered in melancholy and sadness as Marisa followed her down the hallway.
Unable to take anymore, Marisa flew down the stairs and out the front door. Slamming it shut, she quickly locked it with the key and ran over to her horse, desperate to get away as quickly as possible.
As Siena galloped up the gravel road as fast as she could, Marisa glanced over her shoulder and saw the old woman staring at her from the upper bedroom window and she shuddered. She dug her heels into Siena’s belly, pushing her as hard as she could go.
Once they were back on the main road toward town, she slowed Siena to a normal walk, still unable to shake the haunting visions. In her head, she was debating herself on whether she should still marry Savino. Certainly marrying him would be better than being alone for the rest of her life.
What am I thinking?
Savino was plotting to kill someone with poison. How could she marry a man like that? She sighed, completely confused about everything. Carnelia certainly was a strange place, and nothing was as it seemed.
Up ahead, a man was herding some sheep across the road but most of them had stopped right in the middle and were blocking it. The animals didn’t appear as if they were planning to move anytime soon.
The man turned his attention from his sheep and smiled gently at her. In his early thirties, the young man was dressed in old farming clothes, with a dark beard and large hat. He was tanned as if he had spent most of the day outdoors. Although his face was rather plain-looking, there was something pleasant and familiar in his expression. He smiled warmly at her.
“Good morning, milady. What are you doing out here on this chilly afternoon?” he asked.
Marisa dismounted and approached him cautiously. She shaded her eyes with her hand. “I came out to take look at my house,” she said. “It’s the big one over there with all the chimneys and the really long driveway,” she said, pointing to the forested area behind them.
The Carnelian Legacy Page 22