gondola is still with us.
“What about you?” I say eventually. “What was your childhood like as a prince? No barred windows for you, I’m sure!”
Halim shakes himself as though waking from a dream. “Maybe not, but there were other … constraints. My father …” He hesitates.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say.
“He was very strict,” Halim continues. His dark eyes cloud over. “For many years, my life wasn’t my own.”
I think back to my own father, either drunk at the dinner table or ensconced in his library or toadying up to the Doge and his Council. But always, always telling me what to do for the good of the family.
“I know all about strict fathers,” I say gently. “Why do you think I ended up in a convent?”
“But you escaped!” Halim says, his eyes brightening again. His hands grip the sides of the gondola. “You had it in you to forge your own path. Look at you now! That’s what I want too. I’ve emerged from the shadow my father cast—it was a long one. But now it’s time for me to make my own mark.” Color has rushed to his cheeks. He looks almost feverish.
“Are you feeling well?” I ask.
“Of course!” He grins at me. “Never better. Gondolier! Moor here, please!”
16
We pull up to the side of the canal and I glance over my shoulder to ensure that our sudden stop won’t cause a collision with the gondolas behind us, carrying the guards. But the other boats have disappeared down another canal.
“Your security …,” I manage to say. “The men have gone.”
“Never mind that.” Halim is already standing on the dock and reaches out a hand to me. I take it and brace my foot against the side of the canal. My corset constricts my breathing and I find myself panting slightly. I hop onto the bank and move apart from Halim, pulling my hand out of his grasp—I don’t want him to see how flustered I am.
“Aren’t they meant to be guarding us?”
Halim gives me a boyish smile and holds out the crook of his arm. “I dismissed them. I want to walk these streets like a normal person. All the pomp and ceremony becomes fatiguing after a while. Have no fear—I will protect you.”
“That wasn’t really my concern,” I say. “We shouldn’t be seen without a chaperone.”
Halim’s face takes on an exaggerated crestfallen look. “Don’t you trust me?”
I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I find myself slipping my arm through his. “Of course,” I say weakly. I glance around one last time. I am alone with a prince.
We enter the cool of the church of St. Mary of the Friars and approach the high altar, where Titian’s Assumption adorns the wall. The church is empty but for an old man on a ladder replacing candles.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I say.
“It is,” he replies. I see his lips are slightly parted as he takes in the rich reds and golds of Mary’s ascent to heaven. “Christ’s mother is a sacred figure to Muslims too,” he replies, “but we have nothing as beautiful as … I wish my sister could see this.”
“Perhaps one day she will.” I take his arm again and together we walk along the nave. “It could be dangerous for us to be alone together,” I murmur.
“You mean, for our reputations?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, for our lives. Venice is full of assassins. Surely you know that.”
I don’t have to look at Halim to know that he is smiling. I’m teasing him, just a little bit.
“Then let’s live dangerously. I’ll run the risk of being killed. Will you?”
“I’m taking my life in my hands, you know, just being here.”
We turn to face each other, then begin to walk back down the center aisle.
“How reckless we both are,” he says.
We step out into the sun and for a moment I squint into the harsh light. Out of nowhere, five shapes resolve. Five men, all looking at us with cold expressions, and spread in a fan to block our route. They aren’t constables of the city; that much is clear from their ragged
“What about you?” I say eventually. “What was your childhood like as a prince? No barred windows for you, I’m sure!”
Halim shakes himself as though waking from a dream. “Maybe not, but there were other … constraints. My father …” He hesitates.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say.
“He was very strict,” Halim continues. His dark eyes cloud over. “For many years, my life wasn’t my own.”
I think back to my own father, either drunk at the dinner table or ensconced in his library or toadying up to the Doge and his Council. But always, always telling me what to do for the good of the family.
“I know all about strict fathers,” I say gently. “Why do you think I ended up in a convent?”
“But you escaped!” Halim says, his eyes brightening again. His hands grip the sides of the gondola. “You had it in you to forge your own path. Look at you now! That’s what I want too. I’ve emerged from the shadow my father cast—it was a long one. But now it’s time for me to make my own mark.” Color has rushed to his cheeks. He looks almost feverish.
“Are you feeling well?” I ask.
“Of course!” He grins at me. “Never better. Gondolier! Moor here, please!”
16
We pull up to the side of the canal and I glance over my shoulder to ensure that our sudden stop won’t cause a collision with the gondolas behind us, carrying the guards. But the other boats have disappeared down another canal.
“Your security …,” I manage to say. “The men have gone.”
“Never mind that.” Halim is already standing on the dock and reaches out a hand to me. I take it and brace my foot against the side of the canal. My corset constricts my breathing and I find myself panting slightly. I hop onto the bank and move apart from Halim, pulling my hand out of his grasp—I don’t want him to see how flustered I am.
“Aren’t they meant to be guarding us?”
Halim gives me a boyish smile and holds out the crook of his arm. “I dismissed them. I want to walk these streets like a normal person. All the pomp and ceremony becomes fatiguing after a while. Have no fear—I will protect you.”
“That wasn’t really my concern,” I say. “We shouldn’t be seen without a chaperone.”
Halim’s face takes on an exaggerated crestfallen look. “Don’t you trust me?”
I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I find myself slipping my arm through his. “Of course,” I say weakly. I glance around one last time. I am alone with a prince.
We enter the cool of the church of St. Mary of the Friars and approach the high altar, where Titian’s Assumption adorns the wall. The church is empty but for an old man on a ladder replacing candles.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I say.
“It is,” he replies. I see his lips are slightly parted as he takes in the rich reds and golds of Mary’s ascent to heaven. “Christ’s mother is a sacred figure to Muslims too,” he replies, “but we have nothing as beautiful as … I wish my sister could see this.”
“Perhaps one day she will.” I take his arm again and together we walk along the nave. “It could be dangerous for us to be alone together,” I murmur.
“You mean, for our reputations?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, for our lives. Venice is full of assassins. Surely you know that.”
I don’t have to look at Halim to know that he is smiling. I’m teasing him, just a little bit.
“Then let’s live dangerously. I’ll run the risk of being killed. Will you?”
“I’m taking my life in my hands, you know, just being here.”
We turn to face each other, then begin to walk back down the center aisle.
“How reckless we both are,” he says.
We step out into the sun and for a moment I squint into the harsh light. Out of nowhere, five shapes resolve. Five men, all looking at us with cold expressions, and spread in a fan to block our route. They aren’t constables of the city; that much is clear from their ragged
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