Lost in the City of Flowers (The Histories of Idan Book 1) by Maria C. Trujillo Read Free Book Online Page A

There was a stove with a fire pit below it and several pots waiting to be useful.

    “The bread is dry, but you see I was going to go to the Mercato Vecchio but God thankfully put you in my way,” she said, placing the wooden block on the table. “We will go as soon as we are well fed. Oh, Viola, could you please get a knife from the cupboard?”
    In reply, I walked over to the shelves, where there were knives with leather handles.
    Zia cut some slices of goat cheese, small green apples, and dry bread. Also on the block was a small bowl with olive oil. “The oil will soften the bread … eat!” she encouraged.
    Although eager, I took little bites. While we ate in silence, my mind started to wander. When was the last time I ate? It was the fruitcake with Mrs. Reed, and before that the pastries with my dad … My stomach lurched and my appetite left. I missed my dad already and it had been less than four hours since I went through the tunnel. Where in the past was I exactly? A knock at the door stirred me from my thoughts. Zia peered out the window and then opened the door.
    A woman in her early twenties with a baby in her arms stepped through the entrance. The baby had rolls at his ankles and neck that made him extra adorable.
    “Was that the young Medici in front of your house?” she asked as the baby grabbed her long red hair.
    “It was,” added Zia, wringing her wrists. It was then the visitor noticed me.
    “I beg your pardon. I had no idea you had guests,” she said, but made no move to leave. Tied around her tiny waist was an apron with scalloped edges, and the white dress underneath stretched across her shapely hips.
    “Oh, this is not a guest. This is my niece, Viola. She is visiting from the country.”
    “How wonderful! Have you come to spend time with our dear Zia or to find a husband?” she asked, looking me up and down.
    “At least for now, to keep me company,” interrupted Zia. “This is Giulia Bianchi and this is young Luca. Giulia, this is Viola Orofino.”
    “How lovely she is! Are you feeding her? She looks like she’s been frightened half to death,” observed Giulia. Baby Luca was growing restless in her arms.
    “We were just getting to that,” said Zia. “Who is looking after the other baby?”

    “My husband, I just ran over to see what on earth that handsome young man was doing in your house.”
    “My niece fainted at the execution this morning in Piazza della Signoria. I tried to lift her up but could not, so the young Medici helped me as he was near us.”
    “How romantic,” said Giulia, her green eyes sparkling. “Well, I will leave you to your meal as it’s time for feedings anyway.”
    “Does Giulia have many children?” I asked a few moments after she left.
    “Just one, the prettiest little girl you ever saw.”
    “And Luca?”
    “Oh, she is a wet nurse.”
    Since when do people have wet nurses? My thoughts drifted to the pocket watch and its inscription. Did the diamond’s face give me any clues about where I was in time? It said the word “December.” Did that mean that today was still my birthday, December 19 th ? What about the other numbers thirty and 1469?
    Judging from the clothes, the wet nurse, as well as bits and pieces of history class, I decided that I must be somewhere in the Middle Ages. All I knew about the period was that there was a lot of war, sickness, and people were really dirty. After looking around the room, I decided everything looked clean. But what if I got sick? When was that terrible plague again? Cursing myself for not being a better listener in history class, I decided to take a risk.
    “Zia … do people here get sick often?” I asked trying not to sound too concerned.
    “Well, that depends. I suppose you mean the Moria?” She frowned. “Well the city has strict rules about who they let into the city and where our dead can be buried so as to avoid sickness. Much of my family was killed by the terrible disease you speak of. But it