MUCH ADO ABOUT MISTLETOE: A Daughter of Montague Christmas Novella

            Prince Escalus appeared in the entrance to the Montague family atrium followed by his three stalwart companions, Dion, Marcellus and Holofernes.

            My little sister Emilia subsided. “Oh. It’s you.”

            Everyone else in the family rose to their feet. We girls curtsied and Baldissere bowed, and Katherina poked Emilia in the shoulder until she rose and curtsied, too, but not without a muttered, “Lessen this formality, I pray. He’s family lest there be another stabbing.”

            The kid had a way of cutting right to the bone.

            Heh.

            My brother-in-law Baldissere winced — he had, after all, been one of my suitors although he’d been fortunate enough to survive without a scratch — and in a distracting flurry, I hurried toward the prince, who held held an ornately painted ceramic pot containing a lily blooming white and gold. “Cal, how lovely. Thank you!”

            Proving he could be as gauche as a seven-year-old, Prince Escalus moved the pot out of range of my questing hands. “Where is Lady Juliet? I wish to present it to her.”

            I stopped. “Oh.”

            His sister, Princess Isabella, brushed past him and patted my arm. “He didn’t sleep. He’s grouchy.” She sailed over to the table and into the midst of my younger sisters, and in no time was picking the nut meat out of the shells.

            “I grew this plant in my conservatory so it would bloom at this time of year; the lily symbolizes the purity of the virgin birth.” Cal frowned. “How does bringing your mother a plant make me grouchy?”

            “Not grouchy at all,” I assured him. “Rather, very well thought out. May I keep it for her?” I shouldn’t have assumed he’d brought it for me, and it was most seasonally appropriate for him to bring a grateful gift to the woman who had delivered me, his betrothed, into the world. Indeed, the painting on the pot (which was slightly out of round) presented the nativity and glowed with rich colored robes, gilded halos and the shaggy brown beasts that populated the stable.

            Although…a couple of the beasts looked like giant frogs. And the star was frankly lop-sided.

            Cal saw me examining the images. “One of our local artists has an apprentice who tried his hand at this. He did a fair task, I think, for someone learning his trade.”

            I smiled at the pot and at the lily. “Yes. Very much so.” I handed the plant to Tommaso and instructed him to take it to Nurse to be placed close by Mamma and Susanna and the babies, to be seen as soon as they woke.

            Cal strode forward to shake hands with Baldissere. “A happy occasion to see you returned to Verona. With your lovely wife, I assume?”

            Baldissere beamed. “Susanna is indeed lovely, and here with me for the gladsome occasion of your marriage to our dear sister Rosaline.”

            I knew what he was doing. Baldissere had been my betrothed before I adroitly steered him toward my sister, knowing they would fall in love, and now he was refuting any interest in me, past or future, to the powerful man who had laid claim to me.

            Cal inclined his head. He knew, too. “Rosie, I beg you accompany me to the Christmas market in Piazza dei Signori. I’d appreciate your suggestions for the gifts the palace will give to Verona’s orphans.”

            Emilia jumped to her feet. “Toys! I want to see the toys. Can I go?”

            Katherina put her hand on Emilia's arm and in a not-quiet-enough tone, said, “Not after your blunt welcome.”

            “I simply said unless there was another stabbing—”

            “I know what you said. Don’t say it again.”

            “But it’s true,” Emilia muttered.

            Katherina cast a patently fake smile at Cal. “I’m sure Rosie would be delighted to advise you.”

            Imogene had to put her florin into the conversation. “Katherina, have you taken leave of your senses? Mamma would not approve of Rosie going alone with the prince into the city. She must have a chaperone. At least one.”

            “For what reason, Imogene?” Baldissere asked.

            Imogene turned to him. “To protect her virginity. He’s proved himself to be less bloodless than we imagined!”