"Sir?" Amanda touched Luther's shoulder. The stout, pudgy, man who hovered over Amanda by only a few inches jumped.

"Oh, my lady, you startled me." His chubby cheeks grew rosy.

"I'm lady Amanda," she smiled with a shallow curtsy.

"I know who you are," he said, not with arrogance but with slight awe, and nervousness. "What I mean to say is, word of new nobility travels around this city pretty quickly. My name is Martin Luther."

"Charmed." She cocked her head with a pleased smile. "Tell me Mr. Luther, why is it that you stand here alone?"

Luther bit his lip so hard Amanda thought he'd chomped right through it. He eyed the ground nervously. "I'm not well versed in the art of socializing, as many here are. I certainly don't have the talent that Machiavelli has."

"You envy him," Amanda tried to meet his gaze, but he was focused very deeply on the floor.

"Yes," Luther said quickly. "I envy all those who have charismatic charm. It's not a dangerous envy, but a healthy envy in the way that I admire them." Finally his eyes left the ground to glance at her. Amanda shot him an encouraging smile. He looked away quickly, but did a good job trying to make it look casual. "You have it."

Amanda's smile grew, "I appreciate that compliment, but I don't pretend to be important like many of the nobles here…I am but a simple girl."

This brought Luther's eyes directly on her, his face now displayed real conviction. He reached over and took up both her hands. She glanced down at her hands wrapped in his thick hands. "You are not merely a simple girl ma'am, you are caring…for you are the first person who has spoken to me this night."

Amanda's face softened, "I don't deserve your kindness, Mr. Luther."

"Please call me Martin."

"As you wish."

"There you are!" Both Luther and Amanda jumped at the interruption. John grabbed Amanda's wrist, the assumed Duke of Poland nodded to Luther, "Mr. Luther, it is a pleasure to see you again. Please…excuse us."

Luther nodded quickly, "Of course."

Amanda didn't look back as her "father" led her away.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

"Machiavelli."

"What do you mean?"

John looked around, "We have to go, unless you want to be the center of another of his games. He's very interested in what you have to say in regards to his asking for your hand in marriage."

"What?!" Amanda shrieked, "You didn't give him permission to do that did you?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly! Well, exactly what did you do?"

"I told him you had enough sense to do things on your own, and he could take that how he likes. I hadn't realized that he would seek you without my written consent, but somehow I had forgotten who I was talking to – Machiavelli does as he pleases one way of another. You're more of an experiment to him than anything, and he's awed by your behavior."

Amanda looked disgusted, "Between his craziness, Columbus's pig headed-ness, and Raphael's arrogance I don't think I could stand another minute here anyway."

"You're doing a fine job," John said.

"I appreciate your confidence and wish I shared it."

John smiled as he hurriedly led her from the grand hall.

"Wait." Amanda stopped on the steps. "I didn't get to talk to Michelangelo."

"Don't worry, I'll explain the situation in detail to him; if you think it's necessary."

"I do," Amanda nodded to him.

He looked over his shoulder at her, "If it means that much to you I will, but I have to warn you…though I'm sure you're aware, you can't get too close to these people."

"I understand that, but that doesn't mean I have to be rude while I'm here."

"I'll talk to him…for you."

"Thank you."

John sighed, "And that brings up another point I've been meaning to bring up. You must, in the future, be mindful of what you are saying. You're lucky they haven't gotten annoyed with you thus far. You are the topic of discussion among everyone in Florence, through the noble crowds word travels fast. You have piqued their curiosity…that curiosity could turn to shame instantly."

"But I haven't been mouthing off."

"My dear, in the culture you are from you have been soft spoken and mild mannered, lady like; but as I'm sure you know, women here a silent."

"I do know, I know better than anyone probably. This is my focus, my passion. Christine D'Pizzon wasn't silent."

"And she was ridiculed through her time, only recently has she become admired."

Amanda sighed, "Yes I know. I'll do my best to behave, and mind my Renaissance manners."

"Thank God you are still in the Medici's blessing. They are the ones you need to be mindful of. Lorenzo is following Nicola's lead, so you should stay in their circle of favorable friendships. Just be weary, that's all I ask."

Amanda nodded, "You're wish is my command." She bowed gracefully. "How was that?" She grinned.

"Perfect." John nodded. "Now, let's get you back to the villa."

…

Amanda was standing just in her corset, the white moonlight was washing down into her third floor bedroom, as she hung her blue gown on a wooden hanger. Beatrice and Mary watched her for a moment. Beatrice gave Mary a nudge.

"Ma'am," Mary said stepping toward Amanda, "you shouldn't be doing that. I'll take care of your dress for you."

"That's alright," Amanda smiled over her shoulder at Mary. "I don't mind taking care of it."

"My lady," Beatrice stepped forward. "Tell us…tell us about the ball? Was it lovely?"

"Oh yes," Amanda sighed happily, "it was beautiful. I wish it hadn't ended so suddenly. You know," she placed the dress in her closet and turned back to the girls, taking her place back up as a lady she went to Mary to have her corset loosened (for she knew if she didn't they would start to question her motives for doing her own chores), "I went into the evening being afraid; that's I'd trip or say the wrong thing." She shrugged, "In my home country I would never have a worry like that, but it's so much fancier here. But once I got there," Amanda pulled away from Mary and spun, "it was like a dream." She went back to Mary and lifted her hand, "My Lady," she pretended to kiss the back of Mary's hand, "please tell me that you find my party suitable." Beatrice and Mary both giggled and Amanda turned so that Mary could go back to loosening her corset. "Everyone treated me as if the party was just for me, it felt wonderful; and I met so many people I've heard so much about. It really was perfect, though I must admit, some of the men have something to be desired in the way of manners…but most of them," she sighed dreamily again, "were just what the doctor ordered."

"My lady?" Mary questioned.

"Oh," Amanda shook her head thoughtfully, "they were charming."

"Was Mr. Buonarroti there?" Beatrice asked slyly.

"He was," Amanda grinned playfully. "It wouldn't have been perfect without him."

All three girls giggled.

"I'm tired now though, I don't think my feet could carry me another step. I am disappointed that I wasn't able to dance."

"Come my lady," Mary said leading Amanda to her bed. Mary drew the sheets for her and then fluffed the pillows. Once Amanda had crawled under the comforter Mary tucked her in, "Sleep well future duchess."

…

It was warm and comfortable snuggled under the sheets of her bed, but Amanda thought she heard her name being called from somewhere in the distance. She was jolted to consciousness when she felt herself being shaken.

"LADY AMANDA!"

Amanda bolted upright at the abrupt awakening. "What's happened?"

Mary was staring horrified at her, "You have a visitor."

"At this hour?" Amanda moaned. She peeked out the window, "It can't be eight yet."

"Seven thirty," Mary said. "Beatrice is preparing a drink for him. You didn't tell us you were expecting company today."

"That's because I wasn't. Who could possibly want to see me at seven thirty in the morning?" Amanda frowned. "I hardly know anyone here." As soon as Amanda stood Mary was putting her robe over her shoulders.

Mary grabbed Amanda's arm as she went for the door, "We have to get you ready first my lady."

"Oh," Amanda shook her head as if she'd been acting silly. She smiled, "of course, I'm still tired and I wasn't thinking."

"Quickly then," Mary pointed to the lavatory, "I've brought you up some warm water to wash your face and such. I'll prepare your dress and stockings. Hurry."

Amanda did as the girl said. She hurried into the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth, then she rinsed off her whole body with the sponge; it was going to take getting used to not taking a bath everyday. Amanda had insisted on one every other day thus far, but somehow she knew that was going to end soon too. "Was it Michelangelo?" Amanda finally asked hopefully from the bathroom.

"No," Mary called in response. "I'm not sure who it is."

"Please don't let it be Raphael," Amanda said quietly to herself.

"Are you ready?" Mary poked her head in the bathroom.

"Yes," Amanda nodded. Within ten minutes Mary had Amanda well dressed, hair fixed, and bright eyed, though she was sweating with fatigue after those ten minutes. Amanda smiled at Mary sitting tiredly in the arm chair in the corner. "You may stay here and rest."

"Thank you my lady, you are kind," Mary nodded, and meant it; for she was prepared to go with Amanda, as most ladies would require. Mary was thankful that she had been granted to Amanda, for she thought the woman she knew to be the future duchess of Poland was a very kind mistress to serve.

Amanda paused to look over her reflection in the mirror before heading to the door, "Mary, you've done a fantastic job."

Amanda nearly ran to the stairs, she paused once she got there, took a deep breath and smoothed her purple velvet gown. She lifted it just enough as not to trip as she floated gracefully down the stairs, silently she continued to pray that Raphael wouldn't be waiting for her. She stopped just at the foot of the staircase upon seeing the back of a stout man, holding his formal hat in his hand.

Amanda tipped her head, "Martin?"

Thank you so much for reading, I do hope that you enjoy this installment. Please review if you have a moment. I also tired to address some of the concerns about behavior and such…I hope that my answers are suitable. Again thank you for reading!