I’ll bet she did, I thought, but put on a great beam of a smile as I sailed down upon my bull. “Your Holiness!” I purred with what remained of my depleted sparkle. My red nose was hidden temporarily under a layer of powder—it wouldn’t survive the next sneeze, but I didn’t need it to. I just needed a moment’s worth of charm. “Your Holiness, I’ve just heard!” I continued as my Pope turned toward me. “Madonna Adriana told me you had decided to allow Lord Sforza to take Lucrezia back to Pesaro to see her new home!”

“I was thinking of it,” he began. “I had not decided—” But I was already nodding.

“Very wise, Your Holiness, very wise. You know there’s always plague in Rome after spring, not to mention the heat. And if the French come, well, better to have her safe in the provinces. Though surely they won’t dare invade with our new allies at our side!” I dimpled at the King of Naples, who looked magnanimous and then looked down my bodice before staggering off to find his own mistress. “Lucrezia will be so pleased to see Pesaro at last, and so will I!” I twined my fingers through Rodrigo’s caressingly. “Though I will miss Your Holiness terribly, of course.”

“Miss me?” He had been looking at goose-necked Caterina again as she came gliding down the stairs from the bridal chamber, giving her arrogant queenly stare all around her—but now he frowned and looked back at me.

“Dear Adriana and I wouldn’t dream of sending your daughter off to her new home without a proper escort.” I reached out, drawing my mother-in-law’s arm through mine with a bit more goodwill than usual. “We’ll see she’s properly settled, never fear. It shouldn’t take more than, oh, a few months?”

I felt a sneeze building and my nose beginning to run again, so I unleashed the last of my dazzle in a final smile, swept a curtsy toward my Pope, and strolled away with my head close to my mother-in-law’s. “Adriana, we must take Carmelina Mangano with us to Pesaro—your assistant cook? I may have to go without my Papal Bull for a few months, but I cannot go without her honeyed mostaccioli!”

I could almost hear Rodrigo frown behind us, and that was when I added, in an artless voice designed to carry just far enough, “And of course I know you must be pining to see your son after so many months, Adriana. How is dear Orsino faring, anyway?”

Leonello’s murmur followed me out. “Dio.”

Leonello