Luna didn’t see her father again until the family gathered in readiness to depart for Mass at the cathedral. She was tired, having stayed up late the night prior finishing the white robes she was sewing for Filippo. But even when her head was on the pillow she’d not slept. The same alarming thought kept circling: her papa had always been loyal to the Medicis and the proclamation she’d seen in his room made any connection to the family a crime punishable by death. Surely he no longer kept favour with the exiles? She’d not been able to stop her mind from worrying so she was tired when she stepped into the carriage and took her seat beside Maria. She’d offered to accompany Filippo and walk through the streets with him in the throng of boys but Papa reminded her that no girls were allowed and laughed at the notion that she thought she could keep up and hold the red cross they were all given whilst she walked. Luna had smiled but there was a harshness to her father’s voice that was strange and unlike him. Ever since he’d returned from his business travels, she heard him shouting for bread in the mornings and complaining of the heat. One time he’d cursed so loudly and so viciously they’d all stopped their tasks in the kitchen, the servant girls included, and crossed themselves. Mamma Lucrezia had hurried off to his studiolo, but she’d not explained the outburst. Luna thought again of the Great Council’s proclamation about Medici loyalists.

She turned her mind to little Filippo. This day was his to shine, with his hair freshly cut around his ears to meet the Great Council’s strict new codes. She reminded herself to press upon her brother the importance of staying close to the other boys. They would make an unforgiving crowd as they filed through the streets and any who fell would not be helped. Luna fretted about his safety; best Pippo kept to the centre of the group. At least they would all meet up again in the cathedral and, as Maria liked to say, Papa always took care of them. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his only son and heir.

*

Luna kept close to her family as they pushed their way through the crowded nave. Her step-mamma had insisted they leave as soon as Papa had returned from delivering Filippo to the piazza where the boys gathered under the guidance of Friar Silvestro Maruffi, but it still seemed they were late to arrive. It was impossible to use her stick so Luna tucked it under her arm and grabbed Maria’s hand for support.

‘How on Earth am I going see my son from here?’ Mamma Lucrezia moaned.