Friar Bartolomeo brought news of an emissary arrived from Rome. He described the pomp and ceremony of the riders and carriage as they passed on the way to the Signoria. There was confusion and excitement at what this might portend. She heard his rosary beads click feverishly as he padded about the room, debating with himself how the errant preacher might react and even through the fog of her own grief she could sense his hope. Luna cared not what happened.

Then, just as quickly, the visitors departed back to Rome with the preacher amongst them for an audience with the Pope. Florence was left without its religious leader. Friar Bartolomeo moved about the monastery with a spritely step after that. The people of Florence bundled themselves against the cooler weather, staying close to the protection of the buildings as they walked the streets, caught in the swirling tide that had turned against their favoured preacher. None of this moved Luna.

The orange tree in the cloister had lost its leaves by the time Friar Bartolomeo led the monks in a Requiem Mass for Signore Fusili and his family. The Great Council deemed it sufficient time since the heretics’ deaths. Luna sat in a chair placed discreetly in a side altar but she did not pray. She didn’t feel anything. Her heart was numb. There were no bodies to bless and bury, nothing of Mamma Lucrezia, of her beloved Maria or Filippo. Her father too, had gone, when she did not know, only that he’d been put to death. What God would leave her breathing whilst all the people she loved were gone to Him? She remained after the monks had padded off quietly to their duties.

When she heard a muffled cough, Luna realised someone was hovering nearby. She caught her breath at the sight of the thin, hesitant figure.

‘Mother Mary, save me. Livia, it is you!’ Luna exclaimed and didn’t resist when her loyal maid pulled her up and into a hug that was so unexpectedly loving she closed her eyes and gave in to the need that it touched. Luna sobbed until it felt that all her heart and innards had been leached. Then she felt her face lifted gently.

‘It is God’s mercy that you survived. He protects the lamb.’ Livia kissed Luna’s forehead and crossed herself.

‘How did you survive?’ Luna said when her breath had steadied.

‘I’d taken Pippo off to rest that morning and when I woke, the house was in disorder; the kitchen girls unsure what to start on, their gossip fuelled by the absence of Mistress Lucrezia, who was closeted in her room. Pippo was with me and he held my hand tightly; we both felt the fear. I went to the mistress and found her standing by the window in her chamber, though there was nothing to see. She swayed as she told me what had happened. I offered to go in search of you since she was so worried. So it was that I left the house before …’ She crossed herself again. Luna did the same.