“King Marcello won’t be pleased,” Benedetto muttered, watching the sulking toddler glower at him.

“I wanted to sweep with Zuzu and Mwarcello. Take me to them,” Rio demanded, pushing away his food.

Benedetto had spent the night at the boy’s side, but Rio had refused sleep, restless and stubborn, insisting on going back to Azzurra. It had taken both a bedtime story and a painfully off-key lullaby before the child finally drifted off. Come morning, Rio was back to his protests ...