Chapter 104: Theirs, Apparently

The voyage north had found its rhythm days ago, the sort that could the sailors forget they were standing on a piece of wood in the middle of the sea.

Below deck, in the low-beamed cabin, Caterina sat across Vito’s lap with her knees on either side of his hips. She had ended up there once before, back when three cups of wine and a tedious report had done most of the thinking for her.

There was no wine involved tonight. Her back was straight, her chin held high, and her eyes were wide open and stared down on his.

Vito’s grin began and worked its way up.

"Mighty comfortable, moglie."

He tipped his head against the cushion behind him.

"Last I checked, you needed the better part of a bottle to find your way to exactly this spot."

Her fingers moved from his neck to his chin, gently, before she answered. "Consider it a reward, Vitale. I’m told a wife ought to spoil a husband who actually turns a profit for once. Rare enough species, worth the encouragement."

One eyebrow went up.

"You should thank me."

"Ma va’. Thank you, for making me your throne."

Caterina smiled.

"For rewarding you."

Her voice rose with mock outrage.

"There is a great difference."

Vito laughed and let the matter go. He had no real interest in winning it.

Her hand remained against his chin for another heartbeat, then moved to his chest, and the teasing in her face let way to ordinary curiosity.

She asked it as casually as she might have asked what was being served for supper. "What do we mean to do once we reach the lagoon? All of it, Vitale. Trade, Crete, your family, mine."

The word slipped out as though it had never been dangerous at all.

Vito caught it, and considered the term amusingly.

"We."

He rolled the word around once, grinning.

"Since when do you speak for both of us, moglie?"

Her eyes rolled so sharply that he nearly expected them to make a sound. "Since a courtyard in Candia, marito, and a proposal you still haven’t finished making."

She tapped his chest once.

"It’s ours now, all of it. Try to keep up."

Vito leaned back, though his arm stayed around her waist. "Trade first, then. The Rialto is where we need to be once we make port, mia cara. Every family worth dealing with does business there, right out in the open, with silk sleeves and sharp tongues and plenty of both."

"I am no stranger to the Rialto, marito. But what of the contacts there?"

"Naturally, this mighty me got a banker in mind, reliable enough."

Caterina reached for the account book on the table without getting off his lap and set it against his chest so she could write. "Only a name? I can name three merchant houses that owe me money before you finish naming yours."

"Show-off."

She gave the closed book a light tap against him. "And your name has probably done half the work for us already. I hear whispers travel across those streets faster than any ship."

Vito chuckled lightly, content by the recognition.

"And Crete?" Her voice remained even, but she snuggled a little closer against him.

Vito’s smile faded by a fraction. It didn’t disappear.

"Crete, mia cara, I don’t know what they’ll make of me there."

He put it simply. "Name a man, send him out, and let the paperwork catch up afterward. I’ve made enough noise on that island by now that the paperwork may not know where to begin."

She tilted her head, waiting on the rest of it, unbothered by his own uncertainty.

"So, no plan."

Vito shrugged, as if it wasn’t that important. "So it’s simple enough, capisci? Stay loud, make sure that whatever decision is taken about Crete, I made my opinion clear enough to the old foxes."

Caterina thought about that for a moment, her fingers idly brushing his collar.

"We’ll need more than just you, enough mouths to make your voice seem a monolith."

"Then we’d better start talking, moglie."

She let the account book fall closed and put it aside on the table, still looking at him.

"It’s a pity the old Doge isn’t in Venice this year."

She said it lightly, twisting a strand of his hair around two fingers.

"Not a soul in that city ever opened a door as easily as my nonno’s friend."

Vito made a small noise of agreement and left it at that.

She had no reason to know how close that door had come to close forever. To Caterina, Dandolo had simply always been in Constantinople, safe behind his walls, the way some old men who had earned the right to survive somehow managed to be.

Vito kept the rest to himself and kissed her hair.

The cabin went silent around them. There was only the creak of the timber and the slap of an oar against the water beyond the hull.

Neither of them knew what sort of welcome waited at the end of the voyage.

His house had never thought him worth betting on, not before some island made his name worth something. Hers had never found her a match worth the pride, not before a fortune made from cheese and pepper gave every family in Venezia reason to look twice at the woman they had spent years overlooking.

Old grudges had a stubborn habit of surviving heavier purses.

Caterina found his hand and laced her fingers through his. When she spoke, her voice had lost its brightness.

"Whatever they decide, Vitale, it changes nothing between us."

That was all, and it was enough.

Vito tightened his arm around her waist and rested his forehead against hers. For a while neither spoke, neither needed to.

Outside, the oars kept their steady rhythm, patient and indifferent to whatever was happening in one little cabin.

Caterina broke the silence first. She straightened against him, slipping back into her composed manner, though her hand never left his chest.

"Since we’re speaking of what is owed."

Her voice had dropped into the tone he’d learned to distrust, warm enough to pass for affection and sharp enough to remind him that affection, in her hands, could also come with an invoice.

"There’s still the matter of a marriage you promised me in a courtyard, Vitale, on half a sentence and without a ring."

"An outstanding account, is it?"

She tapped one finger against his chest, the gesture she used when a creditor had an unpaid debt.

"Long outstanding. I’ve allowed worse debts than yours to sit that long, and every one of them came due eventually."

Her lips curved.

"With interest."

Vito laughed and gave her the grin that had brought him past customs, archbishops, and at least one Doge. "A Barozzi doesn’t name his terms before the right moment, moglie. You’ll have your ring, your priest, and whatever else needs to be written down before witnesses. When I decide the moment is right, not a breath sooner."

Caterina made a cry that was neither quite a laugh nor quite annoyance and dropped her head onto his shoulder rather than pressing him any further.

"Insufferable."

"Endlessly."

The ship carried them north all the same, one oar stroke after another.