Back in my little chamber I wondered, as I packed my few clothes and linens and Santa Marta in her box, if I’d ever cook marzipan tourtes or strawberry crostate for my mistress again. I wouldn’t stay in the Convent of San Sisto forever, of course—“You stay in hiding there until Lucrezia leaves,” Madonna Giulia had declared, “and by then I’ll have found you a post somewhere outside Rome. My brother in Capodimonte would hire you in a moment, if you can stand the country—” But somehow I couldn’t see anything past the convent.

Well, the convent and the cena I’d have to prepare this evening. My last one, and I should have been aching to use my kitchens this final time. In truth I’d have gladly taken a knife through my other hand just for the privilege of lying down on my bed with the door bolted against the world.

My apprentices and undercooks and scullions were all waiting for me when I appeared in the kitchens. They stared at me, and I saw two pot-boys whisper to each other behind their hands. Of course every servant in the house knew by now that the Duke of Gandia had tried to force me. Juan’s guardsmen had probably talked, and anyway, news like that never stayed secret in a household this size. One or two of the maids said they’d been forced by him too. “You shouldn’t have struggled, Carmelina. I just lay still and gave him a giggle or two, and it was over in a heartbeat! No bruises either. Next time just don’t fight it.”

“And end up pregnant or poxed?” I’d retorted. Or dead.

I couldn’t help another shiver.

“Signorina?” one of the stewards ventured, and I realized I’d been staring at them all in silence.

“For cena—” I cleared my throat and realized I’d planned nothing at all for the evening meal. I didn’t even remember if we had hens or geese or lamb ready on the hooks, or if anyone had gone to the fish market this morning to see what was fresh from the docks.

I cleared my throat again. “Ugo,” I said, and jerked my chin at the most senior of my undercooks. A young man of twenty-two, short and shiny-faced, who had already been told he would be taking over the kitchens in the interim before another cook was hired to replace me. He looked entirely too pleased about it. “Ugo, a menu, if you please. You will be doing this alone by tomorrow night, so you might as well begin now.”