By the time she’d finished replenishing the shelves and then moving his collection ready to be sent to the monastery, Luna’s back ached from bending and reaching, but she was pleased with herself. The room looked neater than it had for a long time. Admittedly the top shelf was left empty; she could not reach that high, but she’d managed to spread the books across the remaining shelves so it gave the appearance of being full. Should anyone come seeking books to confiscate, they’d not think to ask if any were missing. It still saddened her that so many might be burned and she’d just stacked them ready for Savonarola’s fire. She’d taken a moment to open the small book by the Greek mathematician. Her father had inked his name on the title page, and he’d drawn the ‘F’ of their surname with a flourish that was unusually ornate. It was like a cipher to a younger, freer version of her father. She decided to keep it along with the Nogarola, already safe in her pocket.

*

Papa arrived home late the following night, having delivered his books and precious belongings safely to be hidden in the church’s crypt. He explained he’d made slow progress on the return journey because a huge bonfire had already been lit and had brought crowds into the streets. He described the enormous scaffold in the shape of a pyramid that had been erected opposite the Palazzo della Signoria and the pile of personal belongings, high as the first set of windows in the tower, spread round its base: looking glasses, velvet caps, scent bottles and pomade pots, jars of rouge, beads, fans, necklaces and trinkets of every kind. On top of these were piled books and drawings, chessboards, busts and portraits of celebrated beauties as well as sensual paintings by Lorenzo di Credi and Botticelli sacrificed by the now-reformed artists themselves. All dangerous items that might engender lascivious thoughts, according to Savonarola’s men. At the very summit was an effigy of a Venetian merchant who had offered 20,000 scudi for the works of art now about to be consigned to the flames. The huge pile was surrounded by guards and was set alight whilst members of the Signoria watched from a balcony. A choir chanted and trumpets blared as the flames rose. The church bells of Florence rang and the smoke fanned out across the city as a warning to any who thought to challenge the preacher.