Page 332 - The Grotesque Children's Book

Zaccario frowned. “I'm sorry, my lady, my hearing isn't what it once was. What did you
say?” The truth is that Zaccario had noticed Bianca's odd linguistic lapses such as these
becoming more and more frequent, often accompanied with that peculiar twitch of the head.
Zaccario wondered whether anyone else had noticed. If you weren't looking directly at her, into
her eyes, you might honestly mistake these lapses for your own momentary distraction. Their
cadences were stilted but rational, and the sound of the sentences were like the surrounding
sentences, but...they were unsettling.

“I said,” Bianca continued, still smiling, “It's an historical fact that rulers and dukes and
duchesses, and high-ranking men of the church, have a greater chance of meeting some dreadful
end than the common man. It's a consequence of our elevated lives, and we accept it. I'm not
fearful, if that's what you're thinking. I don't really believe that anyone will do anything terrible
to me, like they did to Joanna of Austria. But it's a common enough occurrence in the Medici
court that you can grade from air to elemental light and from this one to the fire principle.”

There it was again, thought Zaccario. Elemental light? Fire principle? “I'll bring you
antidotes, yes, my lady.”

“Secretly, though. Secretly! I don't want to worry the Duke into thinking that I myself
am worried. I just want to be prepared. Now, Zaccario, there's that other matter we discussed...?

The amulet, thought Zaccario. Inevitable she would bring this up. This was integral to
the first lure -- the smaller sum of money. “Yes, my lady, a powerful amulet which could keep
your skin look looking as youthful as it looks today.”

“Oh, now that flattery is just plain fawnery. We all see how I'm aging.”

“I assure you I do not.”

“Then your assurances are worthless, so you may as well spare both of us from them.
How is it I have not heard from you about the amulet?” She tapped her foot, theatrically, like a
little girl pouting for candy.

“I have been waiting for you to come to me in private.”

“You have not. You're lying to me!”

“No, my lady. Here, let me show you.” Zaccario pulled open a small drawer and took
out a small vial of white powder. She will want this. But the lure was still to come. “This is
astragalus.”

“Say that again,” said Bianca, “How do you pronounce it?”

“A-strah-gah-lus.”

“Astragalus.”

“It's Greek. Procured from some membranous plant called the vetch.”

“I want it!” She reached for it.

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