full, but I refused to leave the table. I would not give Raphael the chance to corner me.
Angelo must have sensed something was out of place and finally interrupted Lorenzo by rising and saying, “Gentlemen, I think it’s time we retreat to the sanctuary for amaro and cigars.”
One by one the men stood and left the table. Raphael rose and then leaned down to whisper in my ear before he left. “Sleep well, mia dolce. Tonight will be the last night you sleep alone.”
He brushed his lips against my cheek and then followed Nico inside.
I shuddered in loathing.
Only Beatrice, Gisella, and I remained. The Foscari hadn’t brought any wives or female relatives to the celebration. It only emphasized how little they valued their women.
“Would you like another slice of cake, Sterling?” Beatrice asked.
I shook my head and stood. “No, thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head up to bed.”
They both watched me, their eyes drilling into my back as I retreated.
I entered the house and heard laughter from the sanctuary. I took the servant’s staircase to the second floor and slipped into my room, locking the door and sliding to the ground.
When the house had been quiet for hours, I was finally able to sneak out of my room undetected. The night was cool, my senses in tune with my surroundings. There was enough moonlight to pad my way to the stables. When I arrived, I waited to see if a sleepy stable master would appear and alert Angelo that I wasn’t in my bed, but no one came.
As I walked through the stalls, I took an instant liking to a sorrel colored mare with white socks and patches of white on her flank. I saddled her, sending up a thought of gratitude that Hadrian had introduced me to the world of riding horses.
I guided the mare from her stall and out of the stable. After quickly mounting her, I urged her to a trot, leaving behind the vineyard. Once we had trotted clear of the stables, I brought her to a canter, and when she fell into a rhythm without hesitation, I knew I could trust her. The light of the moon lit the path forward and after a moment, a surge of adrenaline pumped through me and I brought her to a gallop, soaring across the hills of my ancestral home.
The wind tore through my hair and cut at my cheeks as hooves left their marks in the soil beneath us, beating a pattern into the earth that resounded in my eardrums as I rode. I breathed in life in all its glory—shoving away the anger and sadness, knowing those two useless emotions wouldn’t bring back the dead, or change the outcome of tomorrow.
After a while, I slowed the mare to a canter and then to a trot, allowing her to catch her breath. Sweat had formed beneath the saddle, and the smell of wet leather struck my nose. We came to rest on a hilltop, and then I turned my face up to the sky to stare at the stars.
I looked at the moon, wondering if my mother could see me. If she knew that I was here in this place. I was more connected to her in death than I’d ever been in life.
Reluctantly, I guided the mare back toward the stables, prepared to meet the wrath of the stablemaster or one of my cousins, but still, no one came to greet me. I removed the saddle and brushed the mare down while she was still damp. Then I gave her a few carrots and held my head close to her, offering her a whisper of thanks.
I trekked to the house; the sound of my boots muted from the dirt of the earth. When I arrived at the back door, Angelo stood there, waiting for me. He was my enemy, a traitor, and I would not hide my disdain for him.
“Do you know what would’ve happened if it had been your fiancé who found you riding instead of me?” he asked, his voice dangerous in the shadows.
“But he didn’t, did he?” I snapped.
“You could’ve broken your neck.” His tone was menacing. “You risked everything we’ve been trying to accomplish between our families for twenty-five years, all for a midnight ride.”
“Don’t worry, your precious legacy is still protected.”
I swept past him and padded quietly up the stairs. I slipped into my room and closed the door. I was just about to remove my riding