Raven stared the vampyre in the eye. “Send him with us.”
Niccolò smiled triumphantly at William. “It would seem your pet’s affections have been alienated. She wishes the Curia to execute you.”
“If you won’t send him with us then let me stay with him. Please.”
Machiavelli’s eyes bored into hers. “Tell me, would you still be willing to write to the Curia and ask for peace, after I execute him?”
Raven flinched. “I don’t think sentient beings should be killed indiscriminately—whether the being is a vampyre or a human. Peace between you and the Curia is better for everyone, including humans.
“I know you know this, Signor Machiavelli. I’ve read your works. You reject tyranny. But if you execute William for no purpose other than to show your political power, you will become what you despise—a tyrant. And after everything I’ve read, I can’t believe you’d do that.”
Machiavelli scowled. “I have evolved. The human I was no longer exists. I’m flattered you read the works I wrote when I was human, but I’m not convinced by your argument. The action most likely to yield results is the one I’ve described. You will go to the Curia. And the former prince will be executed.
“General, choose the soldiers who will be escorting the females to the Vatican.”
Ten soldiers moved forward at the general’s indication, and William handed over Cara to one of them.
“William, please.” Raven clung to his arm, even as a soldier began to pull her away.
He gestured toward her and lifted his voice. “May I have my jacket?”
Raven’s jaw dropped. “Your jacket?”
“Think of Cara,” he whispered, in English.
A soldier helped her out of the jacket and delivered it to William, who put it on, discreetly patting the pockets.
“Stefan,” Niccolò said, addressing him. “You will accompany the humans to the Vatican, ensuring they arrive in good health. Take the letter from the priest with you.”
The physician stood and bowed. “With respect, my lord. We don’t have permission to travel through the intervening territories. Our neighbors will see the soldiers and kill us.”
“Couriers will be sent before you, offering an explanation. I’ll see to it a messenger is sent to the Curia tonight, announcing your arrival.”
“But what about hunters,” Stefan protested, “or ferals?”
“You will be traveling with a detachment of Florentine soldiers. I trust they can handle a few predators.” Niccolò beckoned to one of the soldiers who were guarding him. “Remove the signet ring from the hand of the former prince. I have need of it.”
The soldier approached William warily, sword at the ready. William grimaced and removed the signet ring symbolizing the principality of Florence. He relinquished it without a word.
Niccolò smiled triumphantly, placing the ring on his own finger. “Stefan, leave for the Vatican at once. I’ll pen letters for the couriers when I’ve disposed of the former prince. The couriers will overtake you.”
“William, you promised we’d stay together.” Raven struggled against the soldier who had hold of her arm. Her mind spun wildly in several different directions, trying to think of a way she could stay in the city. She was furious with William for agreeing to her removal and for placing her and Cara in the hands of their enemies.
“William!” Raven pleaded, hoping she could change his mind even as she was dragged to the door. “How could you do this?”
His eyes never left hers as his lips moved silently. “Je t’aim.”
“If you love me, then help me,” she cried. “William!”
Raven and her sister were taken into the corridor and the large chamber door was shut behind them with a resounding crash.
Chapter Fifty-five
“Now that the minor problem is solved, the major problem remains.” Machiavelli stared down at William.
“Your problems are only beginning,” William responded. “Have you checked the borders recently? Tonight I scented an old enemy who somehow infiltrated the city.”
At this, the new prince straightened. “Who?”
William’s eyes flickered to Aoibhe and back to the new prince. “That is for you to discover.”
Niccolò lifted his hand, and a line of soldiers moved forward, surrounding William. “It is time for me to solve this problem.”
William turned, surveying the soldiers’ faces.
“Then let me offer you a fresh solution—I appeal to the Roman.”
Once again, silence rang out in the large chamber.
Niccolò scowled. “Your appeal is pointless. I am lord and master here.”
“The King of Italy allows principalities at his pleasure. When the Prince of Palermo insulted him, Roman soldiers marched on the city and executed him. Even now, Palermo remains under Roman control.”
“That was three hundred years ago. The Roman no longer interferes in the affairs of city-states.”
“When he learns of the circumstances of my death, he will make an exception.”
Something flickered in Niccolò’s eyes. “That is a bold claim.”
“One I am prepared to defend.” William rummaged in one of the inner pockets of his jacket and withdrew a missive.
A soldier carried it to Niccolò, who opened it. “I’ve seen this before.”