I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. He backed away from her. I warned her not to say a word, for it would mean the death of everyone in the Palazzo, including you. ” When he brought home papers from Florence verifying that she had been declared dead having committed suicide the fateful day at the manor, she could barely believe Gianfrancesco’s signature at the bottom of the page. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob.
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