Lair of the Lion

with a man capable of betraying his wife.
    Violante shrugged. "I see the way women flirt with him. And they think me old and barren."
    "It matters little what other women think," Isabella said softly, "only what your husband thinks. And he sees you with the eyes of love. You must know you are beautiful." Isabella sensed that Violante was becoming uncomfortable with the private disclosures, so she searched for a distraction. "Oh, look! The marketplace."
    Gratefully Violante turned her attention to the wares. They hurried to the long rows of stalls, exclaiming over the various treasures they found.
    Isabella found the people of the holding pleasant and informative. They crowded around her eagerly, wanting to meet her. Violante stayed close, agreeable and friendly but making certain Isabella had room to move through the many stalls and stands. Violante became distracted when she spotted a carved box the perfect size for trinkets she had acquired, but as she reached for it, another woman lifted it up for inspection.
    Isabella shook her head as an argument broke out between the two women. She knew the other woman would not get the carved box if Violante wanted it. Violante could be tenacious.
    A fluttering of color caught Isabella's attention as a woman with a mane of flowing black hair disappeared around the corner of a building. She moved much as Francesca did and was of her height and build. Few women wore their hair unbound. The color of her gown was unusual, too—a starburst of royal blue she had seen before. Certain it was Francesca, Isabella hurried down the row and turned up a narrow walkway. No one was in sight. She quickened her steps, peering down several side paths that led to small courtyards and also to a network of other walkways that meandered through the city. After several minutes of searching, Isabella sighed and turned back toward the marketplace. No one managed to disappear quite as quickly as Francesca.
    A long row of large buildings caught her attention. They were beautiful and carved with the inevitable lions. She walked slow toward them, studying the various renditions of the huge beast. Isabella found them fascinating. Something about their eyes, no matter how they were depicted, drew her attention. The eyes seemed alive, as if they were watching her from every direction. She turned first one way and then another, but always the eyes were watching.
    Although the buildings blocked the wind, she shivered, drawing her cloak closer. It was growing late, and she found she was inexplicably weary. Shadows were lengthening, and the multitude of stairs and pathways grew gray. She became aware of the silence, and a chill slid down her spine. Isabella turned to head back in the direction of the marketplace.
    She slipped on a patch of ice and went down hard, striking her back against the corner of a building. The talon marks were healing, but they throbbed now, reminding her of her frightening encounter. She sat up carefully, looking around, wishing she were in out of the snow.
    It took several tries to get to her feet on the icy walkway. As the shadows grew, the temperature dropped, and the cold was piercing. The walkway glistened with ice. It might be wiser to choose a less slippery path. Isabella took a narrow, less steep walkway without stairs and began to walk down it. She was hoping it would lead straight to the marketplace at the center of the city, but the path opened into a courtyard. Sculptures were scattered around, but she saw no people.
    She stood still in a moment of indecision. If she took the time to find her way back to the marketplace through the unfamiliar maze of buildings and paths, it might be dark by the time she made her way out. It seemed a better idea to return to the palazzo. It was high above the city, and all she had to do was make her way uphill. There would be no missing the enormous castello. She was certain Violante would go there as soon as she realized Isabella had lost her way.
    Lucca would laugh at her for getting lost. It wasn't often she managed to lose her way, yet twice now she had gotten turned around. Almost as if everything had deliberately shifted on her. The thought was chilling and brought back the strange sense of being watched. Isabella clamped down on her wild imagination. Buildings couldn't move. But then, men couldn't become lions.
    The feeling of being watched persisted. Isabella glanced around. There was a large statue of a lion in the courtyard. It