Free The Born Queen by Greg Keyes Page A

juniper trees are swaying in a slight breeze. It’s hot, and it hasn’t rained in a month. The vines are heavy with little purple grapes so ripe that some have already begun to ferment. The
familia
is picking them, old men, young men, girls and boys, handling each grape like a little jewel, fruit from the same stock their grandparents and great-grandparents picked two hundred years ago and more. They put the grapes in a big vat, and as the afternoon cools, they feast on roast pork, they open last year’s wine, and there’s music while they smash the grapes with apple-wood pestles. They ferment it carefully, the way they’ve done it for centuries. They take their time, and the method never leaves the family. They let it ripen in a cellar, not too cool, not too hot. Perfect.” He took another sip. “Taste. The oregano, the lavender, the juniper. The smoke is their cooking fire, where they roasted the boar for the vatting feast. The art, the care…”
    He suddenly felt breath on his lips.
    “Hush,” Anne said as she kissed him.
    She smelled like the wine and apricot and fresh green apple. Her tongue searched against his, and his whole body flashed hot. He fumbled his wine down and stood, reaching for her head, cupping behind her ears, and drawing her up against him. She laughed and pressed close.
    Cazio took a breath—and lifted his head.
    “Wait,” he said. “What—
what
?”
    “I had to shut you up,” she said, reaching back up with her mouth. “You would have gone on like that all night. Come on; you know you wanted this.”
    He released her and stepped back a little. “Well, yes,” he said. “But you weren’t interested, and then Austra…” He floundered off.
    “So all of those things you said in Vitellio, when we met, and on the road home were nothing, just lies?”
    “No,” he said. “No, but it was before I knew who you were and before—”
    “Austra,” Anne finished, crossing her arms. “Before you and Austra.” She frowned. “You’re no good for her.”
    “No good for her but fine for you?”
    “I’m different,” Anne said. “Austra—you could hurt Austra.”
    “But not you?”
    “Once, maybe. Not now.”
    “Well, I’ve no intention of hurting Austra,” Cazio said.
    “No. Otherwise you might do something like, oh, kiss her best friend.”
    “You kissed
me
!”
    “That’s how
you
tell it,” Anne replied.
    “Now, wait,” he began, suddenly feeling that everything was out of control.
    Anne suddenly laughed and picked her wine back up. “Hush, drink,” she said. “Your virtue is safe. I just wanted to know.”
    “What?”
    “If you really love Austra. If you’re really faithful to her. If you can be trusted.”
    “Oh,” he said, his head whirling. “Then this was all for her?”
    “Well, it certainly wasn’t for you,” Anne said. “Now
tacheta,
and drink your wine, and don’t try to explain it to me anymore.”
    Cazio did as he was told, desperately trying to sort out what had just happened. He’d felt more competent on his brother’s boat, and he not only knew nothing about the sea but never felt adequate around his brother. He tried to sneak a glance at Anne, to see what the expression on her face was, but was a little afraid to.
    When he’d first met Anne, she’d been in love with a man named Roderick, or thought she was, the way girls often did with their first paramours. Still, Cazio had always felt he had a chance. Anne had never given him much hope, though, and when he’d discovered she was in line to be queen of one of the most powerful nations in the world, he’d given up the matter for lost. Besides, his feelings for Austra had been strengthening that whole time, and he was happy with her, missed her even now.
    So why did he want to grab Anne and return her kiss? Why did he find it so hard to picture Austra at the moment?
    A light rap at the door caught his attention. He glanced up and saw that it was one of Anne’s Sefry