Conniving and a scheme or two

I slept later than I should have, but Vito hadn’t released me until the early hours of the morning, and after a series of creative humiliations. I had managed to eat my meal, however, and gained a deep respect for my uncle.

I reached out an arm and found the bed empty – I’d fallen into it beside a sleeping Prevot, but when I looked around, I found her at the desk.

“What’s that?” I croaked.

Her head snapped around to see me. “A letter.”

“To whom?”

She hesitated a moment. “House De Santis.”

“You gave me a day and a night to consider your plan, no?” I pushed myself upright and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

“The letter isn’t yet sent,” she countered, as the quill drank another draught of ink.

“How is my aunt?”

“Well enough. The pregnancy saps her strength, but she’s in good humor. She wishes to know you better, and to introduce you to the children.”

“I will love to know my family when all this is finished,” I agreed.

Prevot glanced over her shoulder at me, but didn’t answer.

“When does Renaud arrive?”

“They are only a few hours away,” she answered. “You should shave. Do you know how you’ll greet him?”

I stood with a groan and stretched my calves and back. “Vito and I discussed it.”

“I imagine Eduardo has ideas.”

“Eduardo is not Principe. He can have all the ideas he wants.”

“I don’t know about guest rights where you grew up, but if you invite bloodshed to this house, you will see severe consequences. And probably a curse.” Prevot sprinkled a liberal handful of sand over the ink of her letter and came toward me.

My brain flooded with the image of her coming into my arms, but she turned to the dressing closet instead. “Your boots are cleaned and repaired and your afternoon and dinner outfits are here. And you have riding clothes if you need them.”

“Thank you.”

“We should claim to be married.”

I blinked at her. “Oh?”

“Renaud will use any advantage against you and when you see the genius of my plan to claim Tiago as your son, they will question his legitimacy. A few words will solve it and the documents can be produced at any convenient time.”

“You are not nobility.”

“I will handle that.”

I stepped toward her. “It is dishonorable to insinuate such a bold lie. And the secret would not last long – the Contessa told me Tiago is her favorite great-grandson.”

“She told you, yes. But that is only known to we, she, and two house servants. And it is not uncommon to disguise noble offspring as wards for their safety.” She took a step toward me and ran a finger down the side of my unshaved jaw. “Sit.”

I chose a comfortable chair and she brought a basin of warm water and other supplies to the small table at my elbow. The lather was cold and after the first initial shivers of apprehension, I was able to relax as she shaved the stubble from my cheeks.

“Tiago explained to me that his father and mother have already passed – they were taken by plague four years ago.”

“He told me his father was still alive – that he had yet to inherit the title of Conte until his father’s passing.”

“The Contessa sent her son and daughter-in-law to the northern estate. When plague killed nearly everyone in the region, it left the De Santis House in dire straits. Tiago is one of the few surviving direct decedents. There are two others of merit, scattered to grow in relative safety until the line can be rebuilt.”

Prevot leaned close to my ear and whispered, “He admitted that he had sworn never to reveal his great-grandmother’s secret, but fear of death reveals all sorts of secrets.”

I remembered her empty threats with a broken crossbow and mentally agreed. “If House De Santis cannot provide an heir to inherit,” I said, “then it would revert to the Re’s ownership. My ownership."

“De Santis has nothing to lose, and everything to gain. And so do you.”

“I promised her an incredible sum for her help.”

“And she had every reason to accept. But if she cannot bring an heir to majority, and ensure they bring forth offspring of their own, it won’t matter if you promise the moon and the sea.”

She handed me the towel and I wiped my face. She twirled the razor between her fingers before sheathing it and smiled at me over her shoulder.

“That leaves the issue of our false marriage,” I pointed out. “If I claim we are wed and Tiago is our legal son, even if he swears to abdicate, I still need to marry in truth, and have children of my own to carry of the line of House Ricci.”

“Not every problem must have an immediate solution, Pietro,” she shrugged. “I have made the impossible possible, and you have an unexpected high ground that Renaud cannot foresee. Is that not enough?”

I took her hands in mine and leaned close. “It is a great deal. And I am in your debt.”

She smiled. “I’ve never had a Principe in my debt before.”