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C al walked into the palace with Dion in time to see me cover my face with my crooked arm and do as Elder feared—I wept. Poor Pasqueta! Wrong place, wrong time. Seen too much and now she paid with the price of bloody death.

Cal hurried to me, enfolded me, lifted my face, and scrutinized me. “You were hurt. You should have stayed in bed.”

“It’s not that. I’m better. Truly.”

“What evil tidings break your womanly heart? Tell me, Rosie.”

New tears welling up, I said, “Pasqueta’s under the rosemary hedge. Dead.”

Shocked, Cal asked, “How did you find her?”

“Your father did.” Cal froze, and I saw the remnants of disbelief in his face. “Cal, I haven’t been out there, but I don’t doubt your father.”

Cal nodded stiffly, glanced around as if seeking a glimpse of the ghost who haunted me. “Go to Nonna Ursula. I’ll find you there.” Turning, he walked toward the herb garden, Dion on his heels.

“At least you believe in me.” Elder sounded more worried than irritated. “I wish I could talk to him before . . .”

“Before what?”

“There’s not much time. Unless something happens, I’ll be nothing but a wisp of a frustrated spirit slipping through the palace corridors, unseen and forgotten.”

He alarmed me with his prediction. “You said you didn’t know what the rules were. You said there was no ‘Welcome to the Afterlife Seminar.’”

“I don’t know anything. I simply feel less”—he waved a hand—“here.”

I stepped back and looked at him. I had thought yesterday that he looked more transparent around the edges.

“Is there a deadline?” Caught by my own phrasing, I chuckled.

“Deadline. An unfortunate choice of words.” Yet I couldn’t stop laughing, for the recent traumatic events had brought both tears and laughter.

With an indignant huff, Elder popped off.

I started for Nonna Ursula’s suite and behind me heard one of the guards say to Tommaso, “I’d heard your mistress was crazy, poor thing. Too bad she’s to be our new princess!”

Elder had truly complicated my life.

“Shut your maw,” Tommaso said. He followed me into Nonna Ursula’s rooms and took up guard position inside the bedroom.

Nonna was sleeping.

Old Maria scowled as I opened the window to let in the air. But she could hardly claim danger, for the outside iron bars had been repaired.

I knelt beside the bed and looked into Nonna’s face. Her skull was bandaged, her eyes sunken, bruising crossed her forehead. Even so, what a difference food and wine had made, for her cheeks had blushed faintly with healthy color, and I thanked God for her recovery.

Knowing Pasqueta’s fate would hurt her most dreadfully, and while I had no doubt that Elder spoke true, I resolved to keep it from her as long as possible.

I knelt beside Nonna Ursula and took her hand, and she woke and smiled so sweetly at me. “Rosie, my darling girl.” She ran her hand over my head and her smile widened. “Nice eye! Were you running without your bodice?”

I laughed in surprise. All the male comments didn’t come close to her humorous suggestion. But then I suppose they didn’t dare. “No, Nonna. My bubbies are so firm they don’t jiggle.”

She laughed in return. “What does the other guy look like?”

I slipped out of banter mode. “He’s dead.”

She patted my head as if I had been a well-trained dog. “That comforts me to know my future granddaughter can handle herself in a fight.”

“I needed help,” I confessed.

“Help comes when you’re a woman people love.”

A good thought, comforting when so much death pressed close to my body and my heart.

Old Maria bustled over, helped Nonna sit up on the pillows, and gave her a steaming cup of something, which made her grimace. “Rosie, I understand you handled the kitchen.”

“I did.”

“At least the gruel doesn’t taste like something died in the cup.” She toasted me. “Sadly, it’s still gruel.” She sighed. “Yago is dying. Did you know?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tackled him.”

Nonna Ursula chuckled. “He and I laughed about it a bit. If he’d married a woman like you . . . but Lugrezia caught him in her claws and he never had a chance. Poor man. Poor weak man.” She mourned him already.

I sat back on my heels. “Your countenance is also more colorful than when I first met you.”

Leaning forward, she had a glint in her eye. “I’ve been waiting for you. I wanted to tell you what happened.”

“Tell me who hit you?” I was all eagerness.

She frowned. “No. I don’t remember anything about that. ”

“But . . . but that’s what we need to know.” If she could only recall who had entered her chamber and struck her down, all this mystery would be solved, the constant guards canceled, and fear could be vanquished. “While you were sleeping, did you see Elder?”

“Escalus? My son? Was he here?”

“He was, and furious about the attack on you.”

As if saying his name was an invitation, Elder popped in. He placed himself close to her head, leaned close, and said, “That night she was attacked, she remembers being awake, and angry.”

As before, Nonna Ursula seemed to almost hear him. “I remember being awake. So much had happened: the séance, the knowledge that my son spoke to you, that he sought his unknown killer even from beyond the grave. I sent Pasqueta off to make me a posset.”

I checked that off in my mind. Pasqueta had told the truth. She’d left on Nonna’s orders.

Nonna continued, “I remember being angry that I didn’t yet know the answer I sought. After so many years, I should have discerned the villain who had killed my son.”

“Nonna, you age, but the weight of your duties grows greater. You helped raise Princess Isabella, comforted Cal in his grief on the deaths of his father, wife, and child, counseled him in his reign.”

“And all that time, the poison viper waited to strike us all down.” She lowered her voice. “I saw him, savage and cruel, come into my room with iron tools, a man who spent time on the streets.”

“Was it the same man who killed me?” Elder asked.

“I don’t know if it’s the same man who killed my son Escalus, but the villain walks a path of vengeance and destruction.

Most of all, he seeks to save himself. He believed that in my séance, I’d discovered his name and he didn’t hesitate to strike me down.

I did know his face. I did!” She leaned back, straining to view what was in her mind’s eye.

“If only I could recall that moment of recognition. But those vengeful, angry eyes . . . that’s all I can see. That’s all.”