“Bah, she’ll soon be five.” Rodrigo chuckled, the jeweled crucifix about his neck glittering. “I’ll give her a betrothed for a present. Did Orsino speak of it? ‘Laura, Comtesse de Laval’—how does that sound?”

“It sounds like something that will never happen,” I said. “Even if I have to fling myself across the road to prevent her taking one step in the direction of France.”

Orsino stopped breathing, and Rodrigo’s brows knitted together, but Caterina Gonzaga from her perch on the pontifical throne was clearly bored with all this talk that was not about her. “A game of cards, Giulia?” She fluttered an imperious hand at me to show off a clutch of emerald and sapphire rings. “Like those evenings we spent in dull little Pesaro when our dear Lucrezia was first married. Wasn’t there a silly little contest of beauty that I won?”

“Lucrezia won,” I returned. “But yes, it was very silly.” And my brother Sandro was pulling up a stool beside mine, offering his own deck of cards with a breezy “Thirty-and-one, or primiera?” And Rodrigo gave a chuckle and said, “Giulia, how did you ever talk me into giving this good-for-nothing brother of yours a red hat? He’s the most useless Cardinal in the lot!”

“But can any of the useful ones make you laugh the way I can, Your Holiness?” Sandro asked cheekily, and a game unfolded as the Venetian envoy joined us and Caterina Gonzaga made a spectacle of herself flashing her rings and her bosom, and Sandro leaned close to my ear as he filled my wine. “Careful, sorellina.”

“If Orsino and the Holy Father think they can ship Laura off to France—”

“They won’t.” My big brother’s eyes were unaccustomedly serious over his usual airy smile. “The Holy Father has his hands full arranging Lucrezia’s marriage, not to mention that Cesare’s angling now to get rid of his cardinal’s hat. Wait it out, and the Pope will forget all about this French alliance.”

I was not nearly so certain Orsino would. “Fight for Laura, Sandro,” I breathed as the cards were dealt. “If the matter is brought up among the men when I’m not there to protest—”

“Who do you think pops up with a filthy joke to distract everyone as soon as any talk of Laura or her marriage comes up?”

“Spreading dirty jokes, and you a man of God?” I managed a little smile. “Don’t you take anything seriously, Sandro?”

“My niece’s future. I assure you I take that very seriously.” Sandro gave my arm a squeeze. “I’ll work on His Holiness, and you take on Orsino. Surely you can wind him around your little finger!”