"Pietro, my blood is like liquid fire when I think of him and my mother's wrongs." "Wait, Zara--wait.

The wheel will turn and our time come.

And now for breakfast!" She whipped off the pot, removed the lid, and a savory gush of steam filled the room.

The man Pietro laughed.
"Our poached hare smells appetizing.

Keep the choicest morsel for the mother, Zara, and tell her I will be with her presently.