Tied with a bow

I was impressed with Pietro’s quick action and confidence. He’d seemed out of his depth more than once, but his victory in having Renaud swear fealty was a feat worthy of a principe. I kept a wary eye on Sofia Elena and Paulo Angelo but neither seemed poised to take any brash actions. The Marchesa had yet to take her eyes from her husband, but I expected she wouldn’t make any serious decisions unless prompted, so I kept my attention on Renaud.

When we started walking again, Pietro heading to his uncle Vito, no doubt to share his triumph, I saw a small portion of flowerbed had pushed outside of its barrier. His foot caught, he tripped. I reached as though I was close enough to catch him, but a sickening crack shattered the silence as Pietro’s head struck the stone bench where Vito sat.

A bloody smear marked the stone and as I watched, a pool spread out from his motionless form.

Vito stared down at him in shock. We all stared, aghast, stunned.

Captain Collo sprinted forward and touched the principe gently and then firmly. Eduardo rushed to her side, and Renaud stepped forward, eyes wide.

“He- he’s dead,” Eduardo whispered. He and his brother stared at each other; a whirl of emotions passed wordlessly between them.

Renaud turned and opened his mouth but before he could utter a word, I had one of the Viscontessa Greco’s poisoned blades braced against his shoulder, the point tickling his ear.

He froze.

Paulo Angelo stepped forward, but I drew my second knife and held it to his chest as well.

“This changes nothing,” I said softly.

“It changes everything,” Renaud snarled. “I swore fealty to a dead man.”

“You swore fealty to his rule and governance, and by those laws, you swore fealty to his son.”

“Tiago is too young to inherit the throne.”

“Your vow stands to me,” I hissed, “as regent.”

He glowered at me. “You,” he sneered. “Some backwoods commoner without a drop of noble blood.”

“This bog-grown commoner is ready to put your House in the same state as House Ricci,” I smiled with cool confidence. My heart was racing. Renaud looked at the blade poised to strike his son.

“Cirocco,” the Marchesa sobbed. She had a tight grip on Sophia Elena’s arm.

Renaud closed his eyes and let out a sigh of defeat. He sank slowly to a knee, and I kept my blade ready – I trusted snakes to act as snakes.

“Regent Lady Emeline, I swear myself in whole to the rule of your House and governance.” Renaud looked up at me with less venom that he’d had for Pietro.

“Are you satisfied?”

I arched an eyebrow.

He frowned and then blushed with rage.

I waited.

“Are you satisfied… Principessa?”

“I am. Rise, subject.”

He stood stiffly and as soon as I removed the blade from his person, he stalked to his wife and daughter, drawing his son into his wake. They strode quickly to the manse, disappearing from view.

“Captain,” I said quickly. “Fetch the medico, whomever is in residence, to prepare him for his rites, but first see that the guards are tripled around Tiago. Principe Tiago,” I corrected myself.

She hurried away.

I continued, “Uncles, I will need your assistance in sending communications to the rest of the Houses before Renaud has a chance to poison the tale of what happened here. I will go through my husband’s papers to learn what promises have been made and what debts are still owed.”

They gaped up at me, both of them crouched and bent over the body of the still warm former principe. A pang of regret struck my stomach – I’d mostly liked Pietro.

 

Back in my rooms, I locked the door and leaned against them, staring at the opposite wall in disbelief. I had little time before Pietro’s shade was prepared to return, and I was determined to make the most of it. I’d been through all of his documents and already knew the agreements and debts he’d made – the cipher in his notebook had been easy to break.

Tiago stared at me from the couch, half raised on an elbow. Four guards were posted outside the door and I knew how easy it would be to eavesdrop in a place like this, so I hurried to kneel at his side.

“Pietro is dead,” I said softly.

His eyes widened and filled with tears, but he didn’t speak.

“You are now Principe Tiago Ricci. Do you understand?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, a few tears running down his soft cheeks.

“Will I still have to abdicate?” he asked in a whisper.

I smiled tenderly. “No, but you can never ever share this secret. Not even on your deathbed. You must forget you were ever the son of De Santis. I will rule as regent until you come into your majority and will pass the throne to you, as promised. You have been sworn to wed into a House of Renaud’s choosing. If Pietro had lived, I could have escaped this agreement, but to ensure the secret is kept, you must be, in all ways, his son.”

I was speaking too quickly, but Tiago numbly absorbed my words.

“I’ll need to enact a month of mourning,” he said.

I blinked. “Mourning for a king who was never crowned.”

“And was never known to his subjects,” he agreed.

“Do you want to speak with him before his shade passes?” I asked.

Tiago hesitated and then nodded. “I should acknowledge him formally as my father.” He looked sad.

I took his hand in mine and gripped it tightly. “Never forget the names of your father and mother. They will remain secret truths in your heart.”

He smiled at me and we walked hand-in-hand down the corridors. With the wards around the medical ward to ensure shades did not return, Eduardo had allowed the proper ritual to occupy the lesser dining room.

The medico had changed Pietro’s clothes and cleaned all the blood from him, but nothing could be done about the deep cave in his skull. Tiago winced and looked away, but I saw his eyes kept flitting back to the grisly view. We sat quietly, waiting.

I had only done this twice, but I recognized the shift in the room’s pressure – Pietro was here.

He stood from the table with a smooth movement and stared at me, then at Tiago, then at me again.

“What have you done?” he asked softly.

“I would ask the same of you,” I answered in the same tone, “but I cannot ask questions of you.”

“I was this close,” he said sadly, studying his hands.

“I wish for you to acknowledge me as your son,” Tiago told him, standing and kneeling awkwardly with only one arm to balance.

Pietro looked down at him and then at me.

“You’re going ahead with this plan of yours?” he asked.

I nodded.

His expression looked pained. “Was it all to put yourself on the throne?”

“I don’t imagine I can do more damage in eleven years than anyone else,” I said tartly. “And yes. I have always wondered how high I rise, and it appears the throne is my goal.”

“What’s next, emperor?”

“And then goddess,” I agreed smugly. “Will you- If you will not acknowledge Tiago, no one will know but us. Still, it will be good to hold your blessing, such as it may be.”

Pietro stalked in a wide circle around the dining table upon which he’d rested. He traced the caved side of his skull with one finger, grimacing in distaste.

“Yes, yes, all right,” he finally said. “Tiago De Santis, I name you my heir in all things. You will inherit all that I have, my rights and holdings, responsibilities, and debts. You are De Santis no longer, but Tiago Ricci, my son in all but blood. Be true to the name, and carry the weight with pride and honor.”

Tiago stood, bowed, and stepped back beside me.

“Anything else you want from me?” he asked with a note of exasperation.

“Don’t haunt us,” I suggested.

“Little chance of that.” His eyes looked beyond me and I wondered what he was seeing. “Good luck, Prevot.”

“And you, Pietro.”

He laid again on the dining table, shifting until he was comfortable, and a moment later, the otherly presence faded.

“I only spoke to the shades of my mother and father,” Tiago said, staring at Pietro’s empty form.

“Did they give you good advice?” I asked.

He shrugged. “A lot about dignity and honor.”

I squeezed him to my side. “I’ll need your help, little Ricci,” I told him.

He looked up at me and smiled. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

“Until it’s my time to turn teacher,” I agreed.

“I do wonder,” he mused.

“Yes?”

“Will we be able to eat snake in the palace? I really did like the way you cooked it in the bog.”

I laughed and ruffled his hair. “You can make it the new delicacy, little prince. I expect many changes in the future of this country."