Page 195 of Fiorenzo

“No moreso than before,” said Enzo.

“May I see him?”

Enzo stared at her.

His mother stood her ground. “If this man is so important to my son, I should very much like to meet him.”

“And you shall,” Enzo promised her. “Fiore wishes to meet you, as well.” Fiore’s wishes were the only reason Enzo even considered allowing her anywhere near him, but he didn’t think she needed to know that just now. “At present he is far too delicate for any interview.”

His mother studied him. “When do you think we might meet?”

“When he’s strong enough to walk to the solarium under his own power.” Not in the sickroom. Not even in the antechamber. Not anywhere near their private quarters—because this was Enzo’s house, and therefore Fiore’s house, and Enzo was determined to draw and hold the line he ought to have drawn and held twice-over already, when Giovanna had insisted on seeing Fiore after his kidnapping and when Lucrezia had intruded on Fiore after the duel and both times Enzo had allowed them to encroach on Fiore’s peace and comfort, to trespass in what ought to have been his sanctuary. Enzo might have failed him then but he would not fail him now. He would not suffer Fiore’s sanctuary to be invaded by anyone. Not even his own mother.

Who now gazed upon him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. It reminded him of Lucrezia. Or rather, Lucrezia reminded him of her.

Enzo hesitated. He dared not hope. “You don’t disapprove, then?”

“I like to form my own opinion,” she admitted. “But from what Giovanna and Lucrezia have said, he seems an amiable fellow.”

“He’s far more than that,” Enzo blurted.

Something like a smile flickered across her lips. “He’s a lucky man to have you looking after him.”

“I’m a lucky man to have him to look after,” Enzo replied.

A truer smile shone on her face now. Wan and wistful, but a smile all the same.

And all at once, Enzo realized that—of course—she alone in his family could understand what torment he now suffered. She, who had secluded herself with her dying husband for the protection of their children. She, who had watched his father wither and perish in three short days, but how long those days must have seemed whilst clutching her beloved’s hand and hearing him breathe his last, and herself helpless to prevent it.

“I would still like to hear—in your own words—of all that’s happened whilst I’ve been at sea. When he is well enough to spare you,” she added.

Enzo knew not what to say. The sudden and unaccountable lump in his throat precluded all speech. His eyes burned. He took in a tremulous breath.

His mother held out her arms.

Enzo seized her in a crushing embrace and buried his face in her shoulder.

He knew not how long they stood there. He remained conscious only of a comfort he’d missed more than he’d realized over the years. His breath came in shuddering gasps, but tears did not fall.

His mother broke their silence.

“When you have a moment,” she said, very softly, “you might consider apologizing to Giovanna.”

Enzo said nothing.

“She was only doing what she thought best,” his mother continued. “She wanted to spare you from having to make long explanations whilst preoccupied with greater concerns.”

Enzo relented with a sigh. “And I suppose you want me to apologize to Lucrezia as well?”

A pause ensued. “If you like.”

Despite himself, a huff of laughter escaped Enzo’s throat.

~

Fiore’s first words upon Enzo’s return were, “What of your mother?”

Enzo balked but told him, “She’s eager to meet you. For good reasons,” he quickly added as a spike of panic stabbed through Fiore’s chest. “Both Giovanna and Lucrezia spoke very highly of you to her.”

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