Page 58 of Iron Crown

He flipped, one to another, the images speedily moving from newborn, to infant, to toddler.

“The great secret of Eugenio Durante is that his precious heir had a child out of wedlock,” I said, as coolly as I could, even as the words stabbed my heart. “Her name…”

“Her?” He interrupted, but I talked right over him.

“…is Giovanna Durante.”

His eyes widened as he went back to the first photo and watched the sequence again.

“In honor of Cosima’s missing godfather,” I recited the words with unscrupulous coldness.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath, pushing down the lump that formed in my throat.

“Giovanna?” He said the name like a prayer. “Giovanna!”

He laughed, his voice sounding young again. He was overjoyed.

I was grateful that I could give him that.

“Giovanna?” Morelli asked the question again. The silent, unspoken question asked if this girl could possibly be his.

But he already knew the answer. He was Giovanni Morelli, the Durante’sconsigliere. The man could see the end of the game before the first move was made.

He fucking knew, as I did, that he was looking at his future.

He went through the photos again and then smiled to himself, his head slumped.

Then, with a tragic joy, he said, “Giovanna.”

He began to weep, his shoulders shaking, as he brought his fingers to his eyes to staunch the flow of tears.

“A little on the nose, if you ask me.” I tried to make a joke, to lessen the tension.

Then I regretted it. Maybe it was best that I just let us feel the entirety of this sadness and joy. The ambivalence of such news under these terrible circumstances.

He downed the glass of Brunello di Montalcino, then poured the rest of the bottle into the stemware. He shook out the last few drops before he put the photos down in front of him.

“A daughter.” His smile was so bright, it broke my heart anew. “She always wanted a daughter.”

He wiped at the moisture on his cheeks and tried to wipe at the ones on his nose.

I would have given him a handkerchief, if I hadn’t already used it earlier.Damnation…

“Does she seem happy?” he asked, as though he was speaking to me, but he wasn’t. I knew that when he answered himself. “She looks happy. They both do.”

“She’s healthy,” I said, even as I choked on the words. “The girl, I mean. Mother too, I suppose. From what I hear, Giovanna began walking at nine months old. She’s been running the household staff ragged, screaming the house down with her demands.”

I had demanded every detail, even the ones that were of dubious “sources”. He deserved to hear as much as I could give him.

Giovanni began to nod with his approval. “A strong-willed girl, then. Like her mother.”

“Yes,” I chuckled.

Strong-willed was theniceway to refer to the Cosima I met today.

“This changes things, you know?” Giovanni said. “It… it… changes… things…”

I knew that he was a smart man. We understood the score and the role we played in this game set forth by our fathers.

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