‘Yes …’ She paused and an image of Isotta Nogarola flashed in her mind. ‘Have you heard that a printer in Venice has finally published the Epitome of Ptolemy’s Almagest, the one Joannes de Monte Regio started with his teacher Georg von Peuerbach and finished after that great man’s death? Even their names sound inspiring. Of course, Papa has a complete set of the work.’

‘Yes, he brought the first volume to the monastery to show us, or to show it off, I should say!’

‘I would very much like to read it.’

The friar raised his eyebrows. ‘There is your overconfidence again. This Almagest is much different than reading Petrarch’s poetry. What’s more, there are very few copies of this text in circulation, not enough to share amongst the educated men, let alone a girl,’ he said. ‘But for now, we must hurry.’

Luna nodded and kicked the mule’s flank with her boot. She wanted to get home too.

*

‘Will you come in? I’m sure my step-mamma has some of the sweetmeats you so love.’ They had arrived at Palazzo Fusili. Luna stood by the central door, her slight figure dwarfed by the huge arches. Only the one door was still open as the day’s business came to an end. Inside, the horses were being moved into their stables and the sound of their stubbornness rang out into the square.

‘I cannot tarry, for tonight Friar Savonarola preaches in the robes of a poor man and our abbot has commanded us to attend, such is Savonarola’s power, even though we Franciscans do not break bread with the Dominicans. I cannot be absent. Mind you tell your stepmother it is my fault you’re late. Sleep well, my child.’

He laid a hand on her head a moment and Luna kissed the wooden cross that hung from his belt as he dismissed her with a prayer. The mule snorted loudly. Luna took her walking stick and retreated inside.

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

The Fusili household was busy with evening preparations. Luna hurried through the entrance hall to the loggia of the courtyard, ignoring the two gentlemen putting on their cloaks to depart. Business transactions took place here every day. In the courtyard, two servants grappled with the lead reins as they tried to cajole the horses into the stables. Her father’s mount, Apollonius, had fouled the paving stones and a stable boy was scooping up the manure. Alessandro, the household’s manager, watched. Luna balanced against a stone pillar as she sidestepped the stinking pile.