My heart took flight.

Mars wanted to see me.

Wanted this so much, Francesco won out on who would get to demand something of me first.

This meant, I was certain, that Mars meant to apologize.

I knew he would, and I was so very happy this dissension would finally be over, that he would come back to our bed, our marriage, me, I smiled brightly at Francesco.

“I will attend him straight away,” I said. “Thank you.”

He looked confused at my bright smile (and I did not blame him, I had not been very bright of late), bowed again, and I dashed past Angelo with another brilliant smile that had him blinking.

“And I will be with you shortly,” I told him while on the move, now being able to ask Mars questions, I’d actually be able to give Angelo answers. “Or as soon as I can.”

And I hoped that was not too soon, for after he apologized to me, I would allow him to ravish me on the carpets of his study.

I then darted down the hall, suppressing my smile (for the now), and it felt like my sandals were skimming air when I saw his study door open.

I was in such a rush, I was not able to slow (or halt) when I heard the thunder of his laughter but steps before I turned into his doorway.

Thus, it was there I stopped, only to see him leaning against the front of his desk, his head thrown back, the rich sound of his humor filling the room.

And an absolutely stunning Firenz woman sat before him in a chair.

She had clouds of thick, dark hair and was wearing not a brassiere but a top (that still cut off below her breasts) with cap sleeves and skirts of orange satin with deep purple falls of chiffon.

All of this was bespangled with tassels and beading and sequins. But there were triangular panels at her hips adorned with purple jeweled chevrons that were absolutely sheer.

She was lush. She was sumptuous.

And she was smiling white, blinding and ravenous at my husband.

I was about to step away when her head turned to look over her shoulder and her winged brows rose.

“Well, is this our little queen?” she asked.

Our little queen?

Mars ceased laughing and looked to me.

“Indeed,” he said, lifting his chin my way. “Silence, come meet Ines. Farah’s cousin.”

I moved into the room slowly.

Ines stood just as slowly, and I noted, with all the bowing and curtsying I received, she did neither.

Her eyes moved up and down the length of me.

“And all the talk is true,” she purred. “For our queen has quite a way with a garment.”

I really did wish people did not speak so much about what I wore.

That said, it was with receiving a knowing look that I had asked Tril to bring the pale pink silk that morning.

It had two very thin straps over each shoulder from which drapes of material hung, covering my breasts, with a very deep plunge in between. The drapes were held to my body by a belt of the same material.