Uh-oh...

We watched the sun rise together – no one managed more than an hour or two of sleep between the sounds of guards patrolling, a doctor from the village arriving to examine Tiago’s healing wound, and the general high emotions of the evening.

Prevot showed me the set of poisoned knives the Viscontessa Greco had given Captain Dumas, that she’d then claimed. Of the original half-dozen given to the Captain, there were four left – one was in my possession, all but forgotten, and the other was embedded in the assassin’s skull.

When Captain Collo knocked and announced my uncle’s arrival, Prevot made sure I had my three-edged knife at hand. It seemed an unnecessary precaution to me, but when he returned the blade and I was able to show the twin, I understood that she’d wanted another layer to her insistence that I had killed the assassin, and not she. Still, she secreted two more of the blades on her person before we went down to break our night’s fast.

Everyone had dark circles under their eyes, and everyone’s gazes lingered too long on each other, wondering who had ordered the assassination attempt. Tiago was still pale and unsteady, but clearly enjoyed being out of bed. My uncle allowed my nieces and nephews and the other noble children to eat in the lesser dining hall with Tiago at the head of the table.

Breakfast was a tense affair with very little conversation, and nothing of substance. When we stood, Renaud came to my side.

He gave me a hard look and said, “I think it’s time you and I spoke in earnest.”

I swallowed my surprise and inclined my head. “Certainly.”

“The gardens are pleasant at this time of day,” the Marchesa said lightly. She took Prevot’s hand with a gentle smile.

“My children can join us. And Eduardo?” Renaud suggested.

I hesitated a moment – we would be outnumbered, but if Captain Collo stayed close, we would surely have little issue. I looked at Prevot. Yes, we’d be just fine.

“The gardens sound lovely. Shall we go now?” I suggested.

Eduardo led the way, and I could see the tension in his shoulders, though his face was calm.

The gardens were truly beautiful. I took a deep breath of the fragrant air and looked about with astonishment. More colors of lily than I thought possible lined the path in sweeping, carefully maintained beds. As we walked the path, I saw occasionally placed stone benches, the craftsmanship exquisitely detailed with various reliefs of animals – deer, fox, fish, birds, lizards. I saw peonies, sunflowers, carnations, even a small series of orchids with a gardener in close attendance.

As we rounded the bend, I saw a stone bench ahead, and Vito bent over a leatherbound book, scribbling quickly.

“If I allow you to ascend-”

“You can allow nothing,” I interrupted.

He glared at me and our voices caught Vito’s ear. He turned toward us and I saw his surprised and curious expression.

I felt my chest swell, ready to finally take up the mantle for which Tiziano had trained me. “The throne is mine by right of birth. I will allow your family three months to vacate the palace, and I will make a formal proclamation that you performed admirable duty in my absence, but you will not allow anything. I give allowances, Renaud.”

I heard Sofia Elena sniff behind us. Paulo Angelo walked behind his father, listening intently, and Eduardo did the same behind me. Prevot stayed close behind Eduardo while the Marchesa and her daughter brought up the rear, except for a watchful Captain Collo.

“Once I have my seat, the Contessa De Santis and the Viscontessa Greco have assured me of their quickly acknowledged fealty, and I will send for wards from each of them. You have two options.”

I stopped to face him and he rocked to a halt a step beyond me. “You can formally pass over Paulo Angelo as your heir and swear him into my possession.”

Renaud’s eyes darted to his son, who looked stunned. “Or?” he asked softly.

“Or you can swear fealty to me, here and now, signed by witnesses, and I will take your twin sons as wards instead.”

Renard’s lips curled, pursed, and then disappeared in a swell of emotions as he decided. “When you die, your inheritance will pass…?”

“To my firstborn son,” I said automatically.

“And Tiago is not yet promised?”

“Correct…” I agreed slowly.

“I want assurances that he will wed into the House of my choosing when his majority comes.”

I glanced at my uncle, and then Prevot. Neither of them moved, but I saw a small smile playing about Prevot’s lips.

“Very well,” I nodded. “Swear fealty to me.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here,” I snarled.

Renaud lowered himself to one knee and bent his head. He hissed through clenched teeth, “Your highness, I swear myself in whole to your rule and governance.”

I made him wait before answering, “Rise as my subject, Marchese Saverio Cirocco Palani Tadanori Renaud.”

Renaud stood smoothly, not deigning to brush the gravel and dust from his knee. He held his son’s eyes until Paulo Angelo looked away.

I turned to the others. “You will all sign papers of witness when we return. Shall we continue?” I gestured politely and Renaud gritted his teeth before continuing the walk.

Difficult as it was to keep the triumphant grin from my face, I managed to keep my fluttering stomach and energized legs in check, and my face remained impassive. I raised an arm to my uncle Vito and increased my pace as we approached.

“Uncle,” I called. He raised one of his odd hands at me.

When I was close, I lost my footing, tripped on one of the flowerbeds and careened toward the stone benc-