Luna joined the Novaras in the estate chapel for the daily prayers of the Novena through the days leading up to Christmas Eve. They ate only in the evening, dining on fish and rice with almond milk, and fasted through the day with the rest of the household. Nicolaus had left them and returned to his uncle’s home for the festivities.

This time of year reminded Luna of her family’s traditions. How she’d loved attending the prayers in Santa Croce with her family and Friar Bartolomeo. Mamma Lucrezia would dress them plainly but neatly to express their pious observance and show her family to best effect. The streets were bedecked with garlands as they walked to the church each morn. Luna remembered how much she and Maria loved to see the colours of the wreaths and what new decorations were chosen each year. The church was at its most beautiful, candles lit in every chapel and along the main aisles, the hush of awe alive amongst the congregation. Papa always joined them in their promenade and then the family also journeyed home together to spend the day threading decorations like the oranges she’d prepared with Elisabetta. Her papa would read to them, a fire blazing in the main hall and the children seated on mats on the floor at his feet.

Luna never wanted to forget those times, yet how could she endure the celebrations without her family? She closed her eyes and prayed, shocked by the familiar thrill that caught in her throat at the sound of the Novena prayers being read.

On Christmas Day, a massive oak branch was dragged into the hall and garnished with juniper and laurel. The professor set the branch aflame in the main hearth and sparks flitted up. There was cheering from the household servants at this good omen for the new year’s spring harvest. Luna clapped and smiled along with the rest, though in her head she heard the whispered thread of Pippo’s delighted shouts from the year when her papa had brought home a branch for them to decorate.

The Novara estate became quiet through Christmas week. Most of the workers spent time with their families and the professor and Elisabetta entertained themselves with reading or games. Luna was happy to join in when they asked, and otherwise was content to read from the professor’s collection of books. She sat with Elisabetta and helped her plan which dishes they would serve for the feast of the Epiphany.

A rich woodiness drifted along the corridor from the kitchen on the morning of the sixth of January. Luna found Elisabetta already at work preparing the celebration meal.

‘Have you added salt to this?’ Luna heard Elisabetta ask the serving girl as she stuck her finger into a bowl of creamed leeks. ‘It is tasteless on my tongue.’ The girl hurried over to the pantry to find the salt.