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Amoro took his entourage home to Genoa. It consisted of all men-at-arms well enough to travel, and his aunt who rode with Morena in a small cart. Those with serious wounds remained at the convent where the sisters would care for them until they could travel without undue pain.
Amoro led the retinue on horseback. His men flanked the cart. He set a leisurely pace. They stopped frequently to eat or to rest the horses.
Word of what he and Morena endured while in Savona must have spread. The closer they came to Genoa, the more people came out to cheer them as they made their way through the various towns and villages.
It pleased Amoro to see how well the crowds accepted Morena.
People waved ribbons and handkerchiefs. They called out blessings and threw flowers. It filled his heart with so much pride that on several occasions, he had to choke back his emotions. Instead, he managed to maintain his composure and smiled to acknowledge the many good wishes shouted at them.
Nothing compared to the feeling that overcame him as he rode through the castle gates and into the courtyard of his home. Familiar faces of long-time servants and friends greeted him. His mother beamed with joy.
Amoro dismounted and tossed the reins of his horse to a stable lad.
Before he could make his way to the cart to help his aunt and Morena, family and friends surrounded him. A blur of arms reached out to embrace him, with pats on the back, kisses on his cheek, embraces from all who loved him.
When Caterina reached him, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek. “It feels wonderful to be home.”
“I have missed you, Amoro.” She clung to him longer than usual.
“Grazie a Dio! You returned to me sound and fit. When I heard of your injuries, I feared the worst, but Maria reassured me by way of a messenger that you would live.”
“Come and greet your sister, Mother. I brought her with me.”
The group grew quiet as he opened the door of the cart, took the hand of his aunt, and helped her step down. Reunited after a long absence, the sisters shared a tearful embrace.
When Amoro reached into the cart a second time, all activity stopped and no one spoke. An air of anticipation swept the group. When Morena stepped forth, a burst of applause and cordial shouts of salutation broke the silence.
“Your future duchess,” Amoro announced with a wide grin. He lowered his head and kissed her. “Welcome home, cara,” he whispered.
***
TIME PASSED LIKE A dream. On the day before the nuptials, Morena sat on a bench beneath the shade of three ancient Cypress trees in the castle gardens. Caterina and Maria sat on either side of her.
They fanned themselves in the warm heat of the day. To plan a royal wedding had proved hectic. Amoro wanted to be married right away.
Caterina wouldn’t hear of it and insisted upon consulting an astrologer to choose the most auspicious day. The astrologer chose Sunday.
Caterina hired the best Genoese craftswomen to create a special needlepoint veil with threads of silk imported from Venice. Such a veil, she assured, was necessary to protect Morena from malignant spirits.
Just this morning, she barged into Morena’s bedchamber with a bevy of maidservants who carried a green over-tunic. Caterina insisted she don the garment because the colour brought good fortune and abundance for a bride on the day before a wedding.
To all of these requests, Morena complied, grateful for the love and attention. Much to Caterina’s dismay, however, Morena kept one secret from everyone. Her wedding gown.
“All is ready for tomorrow. There is one more thing we want to give you.” Caterina and Maria exchanged a brief look. Maria nodded and Caterina dipped her hand into the pocket of her tunic, removed a small bejewelled box, and handed it to Morena.
Morena looked fondly at the two women she had come to love.
“Another gift?”
“Open it, cara, ” Maria urged.
With great care, Morena lifted the lid from the box. A small sack of red velvet rested inside. After she handed the lid to Caterina to hold, she opened the small sack. A gold ring caught her eye. When she held the ring to the light, Morena gasped. A large gem sat at its centre, the same size as the fingernail of her index finger.
“It’s...” Morena struggled to find the right words.
“A diamond,” Maria finished the sentence.
“I’ve never seen one before. It’s...”
“Beautiful,” Caterina added. “It’s been in our family for many centuries, passed from duchess to duchess on the occasion of a new marriage. It is my turn to pass it to you.”
“They say a diamond is created by the flames of love, hence a bride should always wear a diamond on the day she is wed,” Maria advised warmly.
“It’s marvellous. My father would have been proud to know of such a gift.” An awful ache of loss affected Morena with such might that her hands trembled and she nearly came to tears.
Caterina reached out and touched her cheek. “I, too, have grieved since Bartolomeo died,” she said markedly. “Your losses are somehow greater because you have lost a family.”
Tears fell from Morena’s eyes without restraint. It provoked even more kindness from the two older women.
“Family bonds,” Caterina went on, “don’t magically appear, Morena.
They are cultivated and nurtured for days, even years.” She paused. “I can never replace your mother or your father, but I consider you a part of my family, the daughter I never had. I hope that before too long you will come to trust and love me.”
Morena could not find appropriate words to express her gratitude.
Instead, she let the two women wrap their arms around her. Beneath the heat of a Genoese sky, all three women wept with joy. A triad of kindred spirits.
***
THE DAY OF THE WEDDING dawned with brilliance and warmth. Amoro broke his fast in the great hall with his closest friends and men-at-arms.
Convivial banter and ribald teasing of Amoro’s upcoming loss of freedom and performance in the marriage bed filled the room. Even he could not help but blush and stare at the ground because of the bawdiness of some of the jibes.
His companions kept his tankard full, but Amoro had anticipated this. Earlier, he paid a serving-maid very well to ensure she filled his cups with well-watered wine. He wanted his wits about him when he wed, to savour the memory of their joining for the rest of his life.
As the men fell deeper in their cups, Amoro found an opportune moment to slip away. A warm bath in a polished silver tub awaited him in his bedchamber. While he soaked in the scented water, his valet polished his ceremonial sword and scabbard and laid out his clothes and ducal coronet.
An unexpected knock on the door interrupted them. The valet opened it slightly. In hushed tones, he spoke to a person on the other side. When finished, the valet closed the door. He approached Amoro with a square bundle wrapped in a cloth of gold and tied with a large red bow.
“My lord, a gift from the lady Morena,” the manservant said.
The unexpected gesture from his bride-to-be intrigued Amoro.
Unaccustomed to receiving gifts from women, he rose from the water with curious eagerness. His valet proffered a warm a drying cloth. He wrapped it around his waist, dried his hands with it and took the package. He untied the large red bow and unfolded the wrapping. A glimmer of crimson and gold silk caught his eye. As he lifted the cloth into the air, the material unfolded to reveal an exquisite under-tunic of golden silk with long, close-fitting sleeves. Affixed to the neck, a small decorative broach in the form of a golden dragon would close the neck flaps of the garment after he donned it.
Amoro handed the garment to the wide-eyed valet who laid it out on the end of Amoro’s bed. Next, Amoro raised a magnificent crimson over-tunic also of fine silk. The ankle length tunic possessed long tapered sleeves slit at the wrists to allow his hands to pass through. Small golden dragons sewn at the cuffs would fasten them closed. Ruby and emerald studded dragons decorated the gold band around the neck and cuffs. He turned the garment around. An embroidered dragon of incredible handiwork and studded with various gems decorated the back. The beauty of the two garments rendered Amoro speechless.
“The lady Morena wishes you to wear it for the ceremony, my lord,” the valet said with obvious admiration at the gift.
“I would not think otherwise. It’s far more splendid than my finest ducal garments.”
The body-servant helped Amoro dress. Then he stood before the Venetian silvered glass in his bedchamber, almost speechless at the sight of himself in the new attire. No other gift could have pleased him more.
“It is time, my lord.” The body servant stepped to the door, opened it, and waited patiently. As Amoro approached, the man bowed. “I wish you and your new lady-wife a happy life, my lord.”
“I’m grateful for your help.”
The body-servant returned a hearty smile. “It is my pleasure.”
Amoro exited the bedchamber at the same time, Caterina and Maria approached from the opposite end. Tradition dictated that he and his family collect the bride and walk to the church together, gathering family and friends in a small procession.
After warm-hearted kisses and embraces from his aunt, Amoro studied his mother. Caterina still wore black, but she lightened her over-tunic with white and gold trim to mark the occasion.
“You look splendid,” Caterina commented as she took in her son’s ornate over-tunic.
“A gift from Morena.” Amoro grinned.
“She has good taste,” Caterina added.
“Yes indeed. She is marrying me, is she not?”
This brought a laugh to both women.
“Some things never change,” sighed Maria who rolled her eyes beneath the wimple of her habit.
After the brief interlude of laughter, the three ran out of words. A lifetime of gratitude swelled within Amoro’s heart at the love he bore for his mother and aunt, so identical in every way.
“I cannot seem to find the words to tell you just how proud I am of you, my son.” Caterina’s eyes glistened with tears.
“There is no need for words, mother. Your love followed me like a stalwart soldier my entire life.” He turned to Maria. “Love from both of you.” He took each woman by the hand and kissed one sun-freckled hand and then the other. “Come, let’s not tarry. I have a bride to escort to the church.”
He led the two matriarchs down the hall and stopped at Morena’s bedchamber. His legs trembled with anticipation as he raised a sweaty palm and knocked on the door.
“Enter,” he heard Morena call out.
Thoughts of how she would look this very first moment kept him from sleep the past few nights. He envisioned her in a beautiful over-tunic and veil, but the vision that greeted him was beyond anything he had imagined.
Morena stood with her back to him. She looked out of the window at the Ligurian Sea. The sun surrounded her like an aura. When she turned to face him, the vision she projected forced him to catch his breath.
Intense pleasure and pride emanated through him and coursed through his entire body until it became almost unbearable. In his eyes, no woman ever looked so magnificent. Her garments matched his in every way, including the same splendid dragon embroidered upon the back.
Morena smiled. A delicate veil covered her face, transparent enough for him to see through to the beauty beneath. She raised her eyes boldly to his and left them there. A deliberate smile crossed her lips. Her luxurious hair sat in a coil atop her head. Curly tendrils framed her face.
The gold chain around her slender hips swayed gracefully with each step. Her garments glowed against the sunlight in the room. A duchess in all her spectacular wonder, composed but not arrogant, confident and impressive, yet proud. A jewel beyond reach.
“Oh, bellissima,” Amoro whispered as he stepped forward, resplendent in his own clothes, a perfect match. He took her hand, smiled, and pulled her into his arms. “Buon giorno, amore mio,” he said as he gazed down upon his beautiful bride. His chest expanded with gentle pride.
Maria and Caterina both sniffled at the sight of Morena at Amoro’s side. Simultaneously, they raised handkerchiefs to their eyes.
With Morena’s arm wrapped around his, Amoro led her from the bedchamber followed by his mother and aunt. They passed through the castle and out to the street. Guests who waited along the way took their place in line to follow them to the grandest church in all of Genoa.
There, spectacularly, they spoke their vows and bound themselves to each other as husband and wife forever more.
***
MORENA HAD NEVER PARTICIPATED in so grand a wedding feast.
Hundreds of guests crowded the great hall. A multitude of servants strode about with rosewater and drying cloths for each guest to wash their hands. Exorbitant platters of roasted capons and pigeons, sausages, a festooned boar’s head, roast sheep and suckling pig, venison, beef, roasted chicken, and peacock sat upon each trestle. Fruit juices and wines and beer flowed freely. The copious quantities nudged the guests into boisterousness.
Dancers and tumblers, jesters and fools, and men who could breathe fire entertained throughout the night, each more spectacular than the one before.
Morena remained transfixed throughout. With Amoro attentively at her side, it felt as if she existed in a charmed dream from which she hoped she would never awaken. Happy beyond words, she savoured each moment and seared it into her mind to relive in memories in forthcoming years.
Although she never wanted the day to end, it must. Soon, she and Amoro would make their way to their bed-chamber. Her heart quickened for she knew the best was to come.
***
OUTSIDE THE BEDCHAMBER, the raucous celebrations continued. The moment Morena and Amoro found themselves alone, he caught her in his strong arms. His lips met hers, tentatively at first and then with more passion. Shockwaves flowed through Morena’s body as she clung to him.
His tongue glided over her lips to entice hers to part. Their tongues met in torrid desire. Amoro held her so close, it felt as if the heat of his desire would burn her.
Amoro stopped his kiss and pulled back. He drank in the sight of her as he peeled away her clothing. With each garment he removed, her body grew more inflamed. A feral wantonness ruled her. She would do anything to please him. She stood before him naked, fearless. Free to taste, to feel, to embrace.
Amoro scooped her into his arms and carried her effortlessly to the bed. He laid her down without removing his eyes from her. Then he stepped back.
Morena tried to help Amoro remove the clothing from his muscular body, but he stopped her. “No, tesora, I have other ideas for us. I want to savour and remember this night for the rest of my life.”
Amoro tantalized her as he removed his own clothes and came to lie beside her. The heat of his body radiated towards her as he lowered his mouth once again to hers. At the same time, he guided one of his hands to her heaving breasts, brushing his thumb across her nipples. Desiring more of his touch, Morena’s nipples seemed to reach out to him as they grew erect and hard, screaming to be touched, caressed, and sucked into his succulent mouth.
His tongue encircled hers in a deepening kiss as Morena ran her fingers through his hair pulling him closer to her. Ever so slowly, Amoro lowered his mouth to kiss her neck as he worked his way down, kissing lower and lower until his tongue danced across her nipples. Taking first one then the other into his mouth, he forced her to moan with desire.
The heat of their bodies together inflamed their desire. Morena became lost in his touch as he glided his hand over her breast, across her stomach and brushed against her womanhood, but not stopping, working down her thigh and leg, teasing and caressing every part of her body.
Amoro’s hands felt soft against her hot skin as they moved over her, his eyes watching her every reaction and movement. His mouth found the center of her desire. Amoro buried his finger deep inside Morena while his tongue encircled the most sensitive part of her, causing her to writhe as he pushed another finger deep inside. In and out of her torrid honey pot his fingers moved as his mouth and fingers quickened over her center. Morena burned with lust as her body tightened for release, but before it came, Amoro stopped and when again, he kissed her, Morena’s desire to please him grew boundless.
He lifted her, poising her body to straddle his. She felt his hardness beneath her as it entered her, filling her as if it were a dream. She raised herself so just the head of his shaft remained inside her and lowered herself to bury him deep within. Harder and faster she rode, meeting each of his thrusts with thrusts of her own. He caressed her breasts, squeezing them. Then she felt him tense and grab a firmer hold of them as he released his seed deep inside of her.
His shuddering brought her to the edge and over it with him. With their bodies in perfect unity, they shared the bliss of marriage together.
***
AFTERWARDS, THEY KISSED and embraced for what seemed like a lifetime. Amoro plumped the pillows and drew her against his chest.
“While imprisoned in Ernesto’s dungeon, in my mind, I held you every night. I pictured you thus, your eyes bright, waiting for me. It didn’t do much for my peace of mind, but it gave me hope. I burn for you, Morena.
You are the half of me that I have missed my entire life.”
“Forever until the end of time itself, I’ll love you and hold you in my heart. This is my promise to you, Amoro. Even if I dreamed it, I could not be any happier.” She nestled her head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck.
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong, dolce cuore. I have something planned to take you beyond happiness and into the realm of euphoria.”
He lowered his head and pecked a gentle kiss upon her mouth. “Be ready to ride tomorrow at midday.”
***
AFTER BREAKING THEIR fast, Amoro led Morena blindfolded from the bedchamber.
“Where are you taking me?” she tittered faithfully as he guided her down the corridor. “Capturing me again?”
He swept her into the cradle of his arms and descended a set of stairs.
When they reached the bottom, he didn’t put her down, but continued to walk, so that she lost all semblance of direction.
When finally he set her down, Morena felt fresh air and a warm breeze upon her face.
“You can look now,” Amoro declared as he removed her blindfold.
Morena blinked to adjust to the brilliant spring sun. She stood at the top of the stairs of the castle keep and looked down at the deserted courtyard.
“Roberto, bring the men!” Amoro bellowed the command so loudly, that the entire bailey must have heard. From the rear of the keep, Roberto emerged with a troop of twenty guardsmen who carried shields and lances emblazoned with the Monterossa family crest, the unicorn and mountain.
Amoro led her down the steps. As she neared the guardsmen, Morena noticed the crest had been altered. A fire-breathing dragon stood beside the unicorn. She stared at Amoro in surprise. He had combined their crests.
“From this day forward, you shall have your own troop to command, to escort you wherever you wish, whenever you desire. You shall have complete independence while being protected.”
“Oh, Amoro, the crest...” Far too overwhelmed to express the vast emotions that shook her to the core, Morena shed tears.
“The new crest signifies the end of the feud and the joining of our families.”
The troop halted in two lines before them. Amoro took her closer.
“The Monterossa crest bears a mountain for steadfastness. The Dragone crest signifies power and protection, and you, Morena, are my treasure to protect. Appropriate to our situation, do you not think?”
Morena could not respond for the emotion. No one had ever presented her with such a precious gift. Her father left no male heirs and when Morena married, the Monterossa name died. This tender man found a way to preserve her family name and crest. No other single gesture could have secured her heart in so vigorous a manner.
Amoro brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. Blood coursed through her veins like an awakened river. He encircled her with his arms, one hand in the small of her back. The warmth of his arms felt so male, so robust. Her knees weakened.
He lowered his head and kissed her with a hunger that belied his outward calm. Their kiss lengthened as she lost all sense of time. Only when they heard the men rap their shields in an encouraging cadence did they reluctantly part.
Amoro cast the men a stern, but indulgent glance. Then he broke out into a wide smile. “Bring out the horses,” he commanded.
From around the corner came two grooms each leading a majestic horse of the purest white. Both bore crimson and gold saddle blankets with the new crest on their backs. Golden disks decorated the sides of their bridles.
Amoro proffered his arm. “Come, my duchess, we have a small journey to undertake.” He smiled eagerly, alive with affection and delight.
“Where to, my husband,” Morena asked as she accepted his arm and he helped her mount.
Amoro vaulted onto his horse. “To Monterossa Castle, there is something there we must attend to.”