City of Flowers by Mary Hoffman Read Free Book Online Page A

wondered whether the wedding invitation to Arianna was partly a ruse to bring Luciano to Giglia.
    Sulien had been thoughtful too. He knew this young sprig of the Duke’s family only by reputation, but he seemed quite unlike his father and his proud brothers. He was aware that Gaetano knew about the Stravaganti, had been on friendly terms with several of them, and would not betray their secrets to the Duke. And he was handy with tongs and glass vessels, something that made a good impression on the friar.
    Brother Sulien came to a decision. ‘I must tell you,’ he said, ‘that I have today been visited by a new Stravagante from the other world.’
    Gaetano put down the vessel he was holding very carefully on the wooden bench. ‘But that is fantastic!’ he said, trying hard to contain his excitement. ‘Where is he now? Has he gone back?’
    â€˜No,’ said Sulien, getting up from his stool and walking over to the door into the cloister, to assess the quality of the light. ‘He should be here soon. I told him he must go back before sunset.’
    As if on cue, a flustered young man in a novice’s robes burst into the room from the inner door. Gaetano thought him remarkable-looking with his skin like chestnuts and his long hair like golden-brown catkins.
    â€˜I hope I’m not too late,’ said Sky, casting an anxious look in the direction of Sulien’s visitor. ‘I lost track of time in the Duke’s chapel.’
    â€˜Ah, that is easily done,’ said Gaetano, smiling. ‘It has happened to me often.’
    Sky looked at him properly. He was clearly a noble, dressed in fine clothes and wearing silver rings. But, if it had not been for his clothes, he would have seemed rather plain. He had a big nose and a very big crooked mouth. He reminded Sky of someone he had seen recently. And then he remembered. One of the kings with a silver crown in the chapel fresco had looked like that.
    â€˜Let me present myself,’ said the young man. ‘I am Prince Gaetano di Chimici, youngest surviving son of Duke Niccolò. And if you have been looking at the frescoes in my father’s chapel, you have seen a likeness of my grandfather, Alfonso. I am supposed to look rather like him.’ And he made Sky a deep bow.
    Handsome he might not be, but he seemed so warm and friendly, and not a bit conceited, that Sky liked him immediately. He glanced towards Sulien as he replied, ‘And I am Tino – Celestino Pascoli. I come from Anglia.’ And he tried to copy the prince’s graceful bow.
    â€˜It’s all right, Sky,’ said Sulien. ‘Prince Gaetano knows you are from a lot further away than that. In spite of his father, he is a good friend to us Stravaganti.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ said Gaetano eagerly. ‘Do you come from the same place as Luciano? Or Georgia? Perhaps you know my brother, Falco?’
    A strange feeling was creeping over Sky. ‘Georgia who?’ he asked.
    Gaetano thought for a bit. ‘When she was here – well, not here in this city, but in Remora – she acted as a boy and was known as Giorgio Gredi. I don’t know what her real surname was.’
    â€˜I think I do,’ said Sky slowly. ‘You must mean Georgia O’Grady. She goes to the same school as me.’
    His head was spinning. Georgia O’Grady was Alice’s fierce friend, the girl with the red hair and tattoo.
    â€˜But if you know Georgia then you must know Falco!’ said Gaetano, his eyes shining. He came round the bench to grasp Sky by both arms. ‘A beautiful boy, not like me. A boy with curly black hair, a fine horseman and fencer . . .’ His voice broke. ‘He is my little brother,’ he went on, ‘and I shall probably never see him again. Please, if you know anything of him, tell me.’
    It had been the talk of the school at one time, Sky remembered, the friendship between Georgia and the boy who