He didn’t have to tell me these were the heirloom beauties I had heard so much about. The pride on his face said as much. He held them out to me with both hands, as though they were fragile.
Accordingly, I took them carefully. “How much?”
“For you, Duchessa?” Signore Caruso grinned broadly. “Free.”
My heart fluttered at his assumption that I was a duchess, wife to the duke beside me. It was an impossibility in so many ways, and I struggled to get out any syllables. “D-Duches–?”
“Thank you, signore,” Duca de’ Medici cut in quickly. “I’ll have the payment mailed to you.” He was already putting his protective gear back on, but he wasn’t fast enough for his crimson-tipped ears to escape my attention. He turned back to me after fully garbing up and said in a cool tone, “Signorina Bowling, the car should be here momentarily.”
I gave a small smile to Signore Caruso, tucked the seeds in my pocket, and rushed out. Today had been intense, to say the least.
Chapter 20: Cogli la rosa
Now that dusk had fallen, it was safe for us to roll the windows down in the car. If Duca de’ Medici could tell how strange the events of today had made me feel, he did not show it. The vampire looked utterly at peace as he watched the trees go by.
“Would you like dinner in the gazebo?” he asked suddenly.
I looked back from the window and raised a brow at him. “Dinner in the what?”
“There’s a gazebo by the graveyard. I enjoy a candlelit dinner there from time to time. I imagine you would too.”
“Sure. That might be an agreeable change of pace.”
It was strange how quickly this unlocked something within me, some calling for something lost. Here I was in a designer dress, designer shoes, and jewelry worth more than I had made in years, but I suddenly craved what I had lost: simple foods, simple activities, simple joys.
“This might sound kind of silly, but could we have a picnic? It’s been such a long time. Peachy and I used to love them.”
He studied me, not showing any immediate sentiment. I no longer found this lack of emotion off-putting; he was waiting for all the information before giving me anything in return.
I gave Duca de’ Medici a coy smile and said, “I can make somemeandeviled eggs.”
He chuckled and returned my smile. “I’ll have to take you up on it, then. What shall I bring?”
“Whatever you can make.”Which I imagine isn’t a lot.
“Well, I can make afiendishPB and J.”
“Perfect! Let’s see . . .” I recited a theoretical packing list to him and wasn’t surprised to find most of my choices for fruit and snacks unavailable at such short notice. The feast we were going to pack would be enough regardless.
The path to the hill was similar but different from my memories. The trees, rocks, and plants were all the same, but fall had transformed them. The oranges and reds were stark against the deep blues of the sky above, and only the tips of the stones were visible from fallen leaves. Instead of the small, wiry stems that had poked from green grounds on the farmlands to our sides only months ago, rippling oceans of wheat surrounded us. Although the seasonal change had altered the appearance of the environment, the autumns and winters here were supposed to be ridiculously mild. In fact, it was unlikely I would see any of this land covered in white.
Setting up the picnic was second nature to me, and all the dishes were quickly visible: trays of deviled eggs, various sandwiches, fruits and vegetables, two pitchers of lemonade and iced hibiscus tea, and shortbread cookies. Duca de’ Medici ate in the strange way he always did, able to peck at an entire meal without spilling a crumb. Meanwhile, I ate my large bites slowly, trying desperately to keep the jacket he had again loaned me clean. A cloud crept along the sky above, with stars peeking through sheets of gray for brief seconds. Those flickers, however ephemeral, were sweet enough that I kept my attention to the sky.
When Duca de’ Medici spoke, low and clear, I found myself caught off guard.
“I have never really cared for others. Perhaps if I could go outside as you can—if I could blend into the crowd—I would. Or perhaps I simply do not have it in me. Either way, the vast majority of people are little more than an annoyance to me. Absurdity plagues the human race, and once you realize that, Signorina Bowling, the game of small talk and smiles gets rather Sisyphean. We often speak of Greek myths, and that one is my favorite for a reason.”
The yolk of the deviled egg I was holding jiggled just like my hand, then plopped into my lap. I returned the white to the tray, got yolk all over my fingers while brushing it off, and attempted to steel myself once it was clear he was going to continue.
“I must sound rather melodramatic to you, and I know that I am. ‘One must imagine Sisyphus happy,’ Basilio often quoted to me when I said as much to him. ‘The pride of attempting to save humanity from death, and the fact we speak his name, must make it all worth it.’ But I cannot imagine the king to have felt anything but remorse as he pushed that boulder up the hill, day after day. Remorse for his hubris, and remorse for how foolish he was to attempt to surmount an unchangeable truth.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I couldn’t hide the offended undertone in my voice. To spring something like that on me without warning was tactless, to say the least.
He met my eyes and spoke evenly. “I saw the look you gave me back at the shop when I spoke to the owner as I did. I felt you were afforded an explanation.”
I tightened my mouth into a line and sat up fully. Why bother pretending with Duca de’ Medici? But agreeing to that much didn’t mean bowing to the rest.
“It wasn’t just the coldness that caught me so off guard. I mean, offering to buy all that for me was a lot. I’m not used toanyof that.” I gestured broadly with my arms.