Wolf Omega: The Lykanos Chronicles 2

Chapter Thirty-Five

Francesca worked silently to dress my hair. The behavior struck me as odd when I noticed it. We usually spent our time discussing a range of topics: from castle life, to my studies, to the fashions in which she dressed me. Perhaps I'd been too quiet, and the woman took it to mean I preferred quiet this evening. But from her mind, I sensed that she too was preoccupied.

"They'll be expecting me soon," I said.

"Yes," she responded absentmindedly. "You'll be ready in moments."

When Francesca stepped away from her work, I noticed in the looking glass that she'd dressed my hair extravagantly. In my distraction, she'd styled it as if I were to attend a ball instead of dinner at home. When she returned seconds later from the closet seconds later, I saw a new gown in her hands that shocked me.

Though it bore an elegant cut and was finely made, as were all the clothes she'd ever brought me, this dress was a salacious red. It was almost the bold crimson that Duccio often wore in rich velvet. The dress was so loud I thought even the learned men of the castle might consider it indecent for a woman to wear.

She must know, I decided.

"Where did that come from?" I asked without expression.

"Don Lupofiero had it sent from Milano last week for tonight's occasion."

"Oh?" I questioned after a silent pause. "That's an unusual color, isn't it? What's happening tonight?"

Francesca looked to me with undisguised confusion.

"The visit of the Sforza ambassador from Milano," she whispered as if distressed that I'd forgotten.

I stared in bewilderment but laughed to put her at ease when I regained my self-control.

"Of course," I answered.

I doubted any other lycan in the house knew of such a visit. Maximo and Pompeia didn't know, I was sure. But perhaps I fooled myself that anything happened under Sempronio's roof outside his knowledge.

As promised, Francesca had me dressed and away before seven o'clock. When I entered the hall outside my suite door, I found Pompeia at a distance walking toward the salon. She paused and looked back when she heard my door. Wearing a white gown, her eyes bore no emotion I could discern, and she soon turned to proceed toward our destination.

Entering the grand salon, heads turned to see the severe red of my gown. Though they didn't remark on the dress, both Domenico and Zacharia couldn't mask the color of their provocative thoughts. I had taken Maximo by undisguised shock. Even Dionisio, whose mind wasn't attracted by the feminine, seemed astonished by the indecent choice.

I at once caught Duccio's eye. He had dressed in the finest clothes I'd ever seen him wear. He'd chosen a combination of black silks and velvets, each tailored with startling beauty, and the whole accented by golden thread and highly polished golden buttons. They each depicted a wolf's head, a symbol found throughout Castello Palatino.

Duccio always looked like a prince. Tonight, he looked like a king.

Beside him stood a man I didn't recognize, but I knew at once that he too was lycan.

"Ambassador, may I present Gabriella d'Dazio," Duccio said.

"Good evening," the stranger bowed his auburn head with a satisfied grin.

The distinguished guest took my hand and raised it to his lips.

"Signorina," he said.

"This is Ambassador Visconti," Duccio said. "He joins us from Castello Sforzesco of Milano."