Wolf Omega: The Lykanos Chronicles 2

Chapter Twenty

Sempronio led me through the castle down a maze of halls and doors.

"If you sense their excitement, know that it's only from their longing to meet you."

"Is there anything I shouldn't discuss among them," I asked, unsure if he meant his revelations to be solely for my ears.

"You have nothing to fear from anyone under my roof," he remarked earnestly. "Say what you will or won't. We have not had another lycan join us in some time. I think you will find them eager to enfold you into the pack, regardless of what you might say."

Sempronio brought me at last to a grand dining room, as ornate as any church, set with a wide table down its length. The others had already assembled, including Duccio, who rose first when we entered.

"Beloved, I present your new sister, Gabriella of Dazio," Sempronio announced.

Duccio, who sat at the nearest end of the table, moved to replace a footman and pull out my chair for me. I was grateful to see him again and glad to be seated at his side.

Across from me was Pompeia, who smiled with hesitation when I took my chair. I didn't have feelings one way or the other about her bizarre intrusion earlier, and I smiled back as honestly as I could.

Taking his seat at the head of the table, Sempronio nodded that the other men should sit.

"You may introduce yourselves," and he nodded to the other end of the table to start.

"We have already met," Duccio said to the group. "This is my bride, Pompeia."

"Welcome," the lovely woman told me, and she allowed Duccio to take her hand.

Thank you, I told her with the silent voice, looking down at the exquisite gown she'd shared with me.

A smile came to Pompeia's face, and I could tell our communication meant the world to her. The blonde beauty dressed in a red garment that was, if possible, even more stunning than the one she'd brought me. Its finery may have meant little to such a woman, but I couldn't have brought myself to sit among these people in the rags I'd arrived in.

After Pompeia's introduction came the others in succession around the room: Domenico, Ambrosius, Zacharia, Dionisio, and Maximo, who sat on my left. Each was a name I'd never heard before, save the last. From each man came gracious looks of welcome. This was a room filled with nothing but aristocratic, genteel manners, and it was both as dazzling as it was foreign to me.

Only Sempronio and Dionisio appeared to be older; the latter looked nearly fifty. The rest could not have been older than thirty, and even if they had not dressed as noble gentlemen, no one could dispute how refined and handsome they each were. It was just as true for Sempronio who, despite his closely cut white hair and weathered skin, was indisputably a striking figure. He was robust and limber when other men his age might seem frail and immobile.

Footmen, dressed in formal livery, presented us with three different wines, one white and two red. I hoped the white was the same Moscato that Francesca had given me in my room. Each was a unique vintage, Dionisio assured me, that he had selected to welcome me.

"I come from the Veneto," he said. "Even after all these years, I know so few people in Lombardia. Won't you share with us some of your experiences?"

I didn't quite know what to tell him, but they had all gone to such trouble that I wouldn't refrain.

"I doubt there's much of my life that might interest you, I'm afraid, but I'll try. I am the eldest of two daughters—my father was a farmer before he passed away."