“No, they don’t.” Her eyes met mine, tired and watery. “And whom they don’t need, they discard. I just never thought it would be me, after all I’ve—well, never mind.”

That silenced me. Adriana’s loyalty had always been to my Pope—something to do with the way he had protected her and the young Orsino when her husband died and the wolves began circling for Orsino’s inheritance. She’d been loyal to Rodrigo ever since, and that had been another thing that had once made me resentful, because who wants a mother-in-law who tattles to the Pope himself whenever she gets wind of misbehavior in the family?

And now she was to be tossed aside, after all that loyalty, with a few casual insults.

“Lucrezia will apologize,” I said. If I had to break every bone in her body, she’d apologize. “Surely then—”

“No, I’m done.” Adriana dabbed briskly at her eyes, the efficient housewife again even though her chin still wobbled. “I’m going to my niece. She’s always been like a daughter to me, and she’s worried that her first baby isn’t thriving as he should. She’d welcome a helping hand, and I’d rather go where I’m needed.”

Not mocked. We didn’t say it, but we both thought it.

“I’ll miss you, Adriana,” I said, and I meant it. Because my mother-in-law’s loyalty might lie with the Pope on most things, but she’d sealed her lips tight on one secret just for me: the little matter of the French general and that night we’d been captured, when I was invited to dine with the French officers. I’d come back with cheeks a dull red and blotches on my neck, but I’d come back with a surgeon for Leonello and a store of blankets and supplies for all the maids too. Adriana had wordlessly helped me adjust my gown and never said a word to my Pope afterward. Just parroted my bland assertions that the French general had been a perfect gentleman. I must admit I was grateful to her for that.

She patted my cheek, giving a watery little sigh. “You’re a dear girl, Giulia Farnese.”

I spent an hour helping my mother-in-law pack, folding linens beside the maids and tucking little sprigs of her favorite dried lavender between the sleeves so they would smell fragrant in their chest. I called a few of the household’s sweet-voiced page boys to give us some music, poured her wine, and got her smiling again when I bemoaned how the palazzo’s finances would surely fall down in ruins with a flighty girl like me holding the purse strings. I persuaded her to lie down for an afternoon doze, and when I had ordered a cold cloth for her head and another cup of wine, I stormed out to find my lover’s clever, lovely, newly cruel daughter.