murmur of her maid.
He stood that way for an eternity. Angelina reached out toward his face, as if to touch his swelling nose, then stopped herself. She seemed at as much of a loss as he was.
'Marco--'
He turned, grateful for a chance to look away.
'Marco, whatever you did, it was right,' Doctor Rigannio said, getting painfully to his feet, while the maid held Rosanna against her shoulder, letting her cry herself into calmness. 'You broke her out of her hallucination--'
'She thought I was someone she knew,' Marco said carefully, not sure how much of his background the House had been told. 'My mother, I guess, and she knew that my mother is dead. I guess she never got a good look at me before this. I think I might have thrown her into the hallucination in the first place. I--I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean it.'
'Of course you didn't,' the doctor said smoothly, one eye on Rosanna as her maid helped her to rise. Rosanna turned a tear-streaked face toward the sound of their voices, and blinked.
'Who are you? she asked, voice hoarse with strain.
'This is Marco Valdosta, Rosanna,' Doctor Rigannio interposed smoothly. 'You remember; Petro told you. He's going to the Accademia under Dorma sponsorship. He is a grandson of Duke Dell'este of Ferrara. The duke has made some trade agreements with us in return.'
She turned away from her maid and looked at him with wondering eyes. 'Marco Valdosta--you must be Lorendana's boy. She had two, I heard.'
He bowed to her. 'Yes, milady.' The mention of Benito made him nervous.
'It's uncanny,' she said, 'you look just like her.'
'So I've been told, milady.'
'I--' Her eyes clouded for a moment, then cleared and she drew herself up, taking on a dignity and poise that reminded him sharply of his grandfather, and a beauty that had nothing to do with tear-swollen eyes, blanched cheeks and trembling hands. 'I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude.'
He interrupted her gently. 'Milady, you owe me nothing. You were ill, I simply stayed with you until Angelina could bring the doctor. That is, or will be, my duty--I'm studying medicine after all.' He was amazed at himself; he sounded years older and he wondered where the words were coming from.
They were evidently the right ones. She flushed a little and lowered her gaze.
'Rosanna, you should go rest,' the doctor prompted.
'Yes,' she replied vaguely. 'Yes, I should. Forgive me.'
As the corridor door opened and closed behind them, Doctor Rigannio cursed savagely. 'Angelina, where is she getting it?' He stopped then, as if only now realizing that there was an outsider not of Dorma standing awkwardly at his elbow, privy to every word he said.
Marco cleared his throat. 'It's none of my business, Doctor Rigannio, but--that looked like a lotos flashback to me.'
The doctor pivoted, face blank with surprise. 'Lotos flashback? What in the name of God is that?'
Marco flushed and stammered: 'If y-you take enough lotos, it changes your head. Even if you never t-take it again, you can get thrown into hallucinations by any strong stimulus.' He shrugged. 'That's why a lot of Jesolo- marsh folk are crazy. Stuck in lotos dreams.'
Doctor Rigannio closed his eyes and cursed again. 'So that's why--thank you, Marco. Again. I trust we can rely on your discretion?'
Marco managed a feeble smile. 'What discretion, milord? Milady Rosanna had a dizzy spell and I just stayed with her until you came. Nothing terrible and she certainly didn't say anything except to thank me.'
'Good boy.' The doctor clapped him on the shoulder and he staggered a little. 'I'll go see what needs to be done.'
That left him alone in the corridor with Angelina.
