Page 27 of Just for a Taste

I need to get a new pair of glasses,I thought, flicking on a lamp. I sighed. Who was I kidding? The glasses weren’t the problem here. I had been at my desk in the abbess’s suite with my latest thesis lead, and while I didn’t know exactly how long it had been, the sun had set, and I had entirely drained a highlighter. I hadn’t seen Duca de’ Medici since that night on the hill, and instead of continuing to dissect our truncated conversation, I distracted myself with my work.

“Hello.”

I raised a brow and turned toward the door, unsure if Lucia was directing her dulcet tone toward me. My heart thudded in my chest; I hoped to God that wasn’t the case. I doubted she would understand the significance of the book in front of me,The Unexpected Heir: The Untold Story of Enzo Armando de’ Medici,but that wasn’t something I could risk. I slammed it shut, looking around the room for a hiding place.

“Signorina Bowling.” Signora Carbone’s voice came through the door this time, crisp and sober as always. Everything she said sounded like a statement, a command.

I quickly stuffed the book in my drawer and replied, “Come in!”

Signora Carbone entered immediately, with Lucia waddling awkwardly behind. A flat, pink box was in her arms, tied loosely shut with a white ribbon. Balanced atop it were smaller boxes of various sizes, all of which were pink with white ribbons. Presents, quite literally overflowing in Lucia’s arms, so I only saw her lower half.

“Where should I put these?” the stack of boxes asked.

As my heartbeat returned to normal, I flickered my eyes pointedly between the presents and the end of my bed. Lucia practically fell into it. Boxes tumbled every which way, and she quickly knocked aside any stragglers when she tried to escape the fluffy mattress. I bit my lip to suppress a laugh, but eventually joined in her fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed after finally rolling off.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. Now I know why you sleep so deeply in that bed!”

Signora Carbone glared at the younger maid, but she had no room to talk, considering her empty arms. Instead, she gathered up the presents that had joined Lucia on the floor, examined each briefly, and placed them with the largest present gingerly. I looked up at her, awaiting orders from the true mistress of the house. Surely these all couldn’t be for me?

“Open them, signorina!” Lucia crooned beside me. “Signora Carbone wrapped them just for you!”

“And Signorina Lucia flattened them just for you,” the other maid added in a monotone.

Was that a joke, a jab, or something in between? I searched her face, attempting to discern her intent, but found something entirely unexpected: Signora Carbone lookedexcited. Sure, she was trying to maintain her normal stony visage, but I could see the shimmer in her eyes and her fidgeting hands. In fact, I sensed something more profound than the enthusiasm of the younger maid beside her.

What the hell was in all the boxes, and why were they here? I opened my mouth to ask as much, but a sharp look from Signora Carbone stopped me. Instead, I tore into them.

Inside the largest box was a violet satin dress. Holding it up to the light, intricate embroidered patterns and inlet gems adorned every inch. The borders of the sleeves and the collar were crafted with a web of black lace. I opened the other boxes carefully to reveal my treasures: black high heels, violet ribbons for my hair, golden rings and bracelets, and a gorgeous amethyst pendant with matching earrings.

“What is all this?” I asked once my awe subsided. “Who is this from?”

Lucia clasped her hands together and murmured something to herself in Sicilian. Signora Carbone stepped forward and gathered up the gifts. “This,” she said with a small smile, “is something I never expected to take part in.”

“Huh?”

“It may not beritus sanguinous,but I did not expect that Duca de’ Medici would allow me to perform my duties.” She was speaking mostly to herself, and to the dress in her arms. “How proud would my mother have been?”

I didn’t realize I was making a face until she reacted to it. If her abrupt, forced sobriety said anything, I had been gawking.

In my defense, however, even Lucia appeared taken aback by the whimsy that had possessed such a stoic individual. Signora Carbone spoke again, this time more soberly: “We must prepare for tonight. You must have the traditional meals. There is sizing to be done. We must bathe you and give you sacrament.” Signora Carbone pulled a list from her apron, muttered to herself a bit more, and left after giving a quick bow.

I looked down at the silks and satins surrounding me, not entirely unconvinced I was dreaming. Lucia helped me up, and I dazedly followed her through the gardens to the dining hall.

I hadn’t thought it was possible before, but the table was more abundant than usual, though the food was simpler. Rather than the herbed omelets or tarts I was used to, my breakfast consisted of various cheeses, boiled eggs, fresh breads, and local fruits. Instead of the fine china I was used to eating from, all the plates on the white tablecloth were metal. I recognized the scene immediately:panis largitoris, the traditional meal given before vampires drank from theirbeniamini, an ascetic meal meant to cleanse the spirit of worldly sin.

Now this felt real.

“You will do your duty soon,” Doctor Ntumba told me last month, when drawing my labs. “Zeno wants to drink from you, and he wishes for you to offer him company.” Even after that conversation, I had convinced myself she was wrong. There was no way a Medici would want to drink my blood, no way my host would want to engage in something with such romantic undertones after we had just had such an awkward exchange.

But now, with the meal before me, I couldn’t deny it any longer.

That meant the dress in my room had been chosen in lieu of more traditional robes, the bath would be filled with traditional cleansing herbs, that I would be given Eucharist, and most of all, that my blood would soon be on the Duca de’ Medici’s tongue.

Too stupefied to do anything else, I forced myself to eat before I was fetched for the next steps.

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