“Do you know why my husband is gone so suddenly?” I couldn’t help asking.

“To that I also confess.”

“What?” I stopped, hand still resting on his. “You sent him away?”

“I did,” the Cardinal said frankly.

I opened my mouth to say—well, Holy Virgin knew what. But—

“Is this her?” a boy’s voice said behind me. I turned to see a tall auburn-haired youth only a year or two younger than me, his loose shirt and hose wrinkled as if he’d slept in them. One of my younger guests last night, I vaguely remembered, though I hadn’t been paying attention to callow boys now that I had a husband of my own.

“Juan,” the Cardinal said mildly. “Go away.”

“What? I just wanted to see the new concubine.” Juan looked me up and down with a leer fit for a lecher of fifty. “You can come whore for me if you don’t want His Eminence my father,” he told me with another smirk.

“Juan,” the Cardinal said much less mildly, and the boy straightened.

“Just wanted a look! I could have a concubine too, you know. I’m old enough!”

“You are sixteen, and a nuisance. Leave us.” The Cardinal turned back to me, nonchalant, as the boy mumbled something that might have been an apology and beat a hasty retreat. “I hope you will pardon my son, madonna. He is young, and inclined to be rude in the face of beauty. A form of awe you must be well acquainted with.”

I barely heard him—the bottom had just dropped out of my stomach. “Forgive my slowness, Eminence,” I said at last. “I’m just a stupid girl, so I didn’t realize—you sent my husband away so you could have me yourself.”

“Yes,” the Cardinal said cheerfully.

The bottom fell out of my stomach, and a great tremble went through me. Astonishment, disbelief—but mostly rage, and without stopping to think, I slapped him. A good hard slap, too—I could snap a man’s head around like a whip with one of those.

The Cardinal was rocked clear back onto his heels. He looked at me, lifting a hand to his face—I saw just how dark and glittering his eyes were, and all my rage turned to horror. Oh, Holy Virgin, I’d just struck a man of God—a cardinal, no less—

Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“Stop laughing!” I stamped my foot on the garden path, and then wished I hadn’t because I felt like a child. “Nobody should be laughing after I hit them! I have three brothers and a sister who hates me; I know how to slap!” A red mark was already rising very nicely on his cheek.