and her face
fell. “ Caspita. This is all wrong. Perhaps we should take it off and
start from the beginning.”
“What?” Cass considered her reflection, wondering what Flavia
was finding fault with. Her freckles were hidden, her lips looked
fuller, the kohl around her eyes almost made them look gray. She
looked beautiful, and more important, she looked almost nothing
like herself. “I think it’s perfect.”
“Too perfect,” Flavia said with a pretend pout. “You’ll already
get most of the attention as the new girl. I’ve gone and made you so
gorgeous that the men won’t even notice the rest of us.”
“I’m sure there will be plenty of men to go around,” Cass said
drily. She couldn’t imagine wanting attention from anyone Donna
Domacetti might invite to a party. Who would be there? Dubois?
Angelo de Gradi? Other members of the Order of the Eternal Rose?
Cristian? Cass shuddered at the thought of the macabre mementos
hidden on the lower level of Palazzo Viaro. She hoped Dubois had
the good sense not to let Cristian attend a party full of nobles. Luca’s
half brother was clearly unbalanced. Insane.
Dangerous.
“I just need to fetch something from my room,” Cass said suddenly. She crossed the narrow hallway and ducked down to reach
beneath her bed. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger
Maximus had lent her. She tucked the weapon into the waistband of
her skirts.
She couldn’t be too careful.
The four girls Octavia had selected for the party—Cass, Flavia,
Seraphina, and Arabella—all took a gondola to Palazzo Domacetti
together.
“Capricia, you look lovely,” Seraphina said.
Flavia giggled and nudged Cass in the ribs. Once again, Cass had
forgotten she was supposed to respond to the name Capricia. She
feigned interest in something she could see through the slats of the felze for a moment before turning to respond to Seraphina. “ Grazie. I have Flavia to thank for that.”
“Nonsense,” Flavia said graciously. “All I did was bring out the
beauty that was already there.”
Arabella rolled her eyes. “Someone is already practicing her
charm skills.”
In her golden wig, Cass’s hair was almost as light as Arabella’s.
Cass wondered if the blonde courtesan was naturally fair-haired or
if she also wore a wig. Arabella caught her staring and raised a pale
eyebrow. Cass quickly looked down at the boat’s leather interior. She
took comfort in the hum of the women’s voices, smiling at their lighthearted teasing of one another. Was this what it would have been like
if she’d had sisters? Feliciana and Siena were the closest thing Cass
had to sisters, and now Siena was dead and Feliciana was mourning. Cass couldn’t shake the thought that what had happened in
the Doge’s dungeons had forever changed her relationship with
Feliciana—that they would never be close again.
The gondolier navigated a narrow stretch of canal, muttering as
his boat scraped up against a stone retaining wall. They turned into
a wider stretch of water that eventually met the Grand Canal. There
were several other boats out on the water, mostly gleaming gondolas
adorned with royal crests and filled with well-dressed nobles. Unlike
the intimate atmosphere of the Florentine Palazzo della Notte parties, it seemed as if all the nobility in Venice was heading to Palazzo
Domacetti.
The boat glided past Palazzo Rambaldo and Cass thought of Madalena still in Florence with her husband, Marco, possibly expecting
their first child. She wished she could be there for her friend. She
knew it was an exciting but scary time for Mada, whose own mother
had died giving birth.
Palazzo Domacetti loomed in the distance. It was one of the largest and most ornate homes on the Grand Canal, at least twice the size
of the palazzos on either side of it. A gondola carrying two men
dressed in fine embroidered doublets and wide-brimmed velvet hats
pulled alongside the girls as they approached.
“Good
fell. “ Caspita. This is all wrong. Perhaps we should take it off and
start from the beginning.”
“What?” Cass considered her reflection, wondering what Flavia
was finding fault with. Her freckles were hidden, her lips looked
fuller, the kohl around her eyes almost made them look gray. She
looked beautiful, and more important, she looked almost nothing
like herself. “I think it’s perfect.”
“Too perfect,” Flavia said with a pretend pout. “You’ll already
get most of the attention as the new girl. I’ve gone and made you so
gorgeous that the men won’t even notice the rest of us.”
“I’m sure there will be plenty of men to go around,” Cass said
drily. She couldn’t imagine wanting attention from anyone Donna
Domacetti might invite to a party. Who would be there? Dubois?
Angelo de Gradi? Other members of the Order of the Eternal Rose?
Cristian? Cass shuddered at the thought of the macabre mementos
hidden on the lower level of Palazzo Viaro. She hoped Dubois had
the good sense not to let Cristian attend a party full of nobles. Luca’s
half brother was clearly unbalanced. Insane.
Dangerous.
“I just need to fetch something from my room,” Cass said suddenly. She crossed the narrow hallway and ducked down to reach
beneath her bed. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger
Maximus had lent her. She tucked the weapon into the waistband of
her skirts.
She couldn’t be too careful.
The four girls Octavia had selected for the party—Cass, Flavia,
Seraphina, and Arabella—all took a gondola to Palazzo Domacetti
together.
“Capricia, you look lovely,” Seraphina said.
Flavia giggled and nudged Cass in the ribs. Once again, Cass had
forgotten she was supposed to respond to the name Capricia. She
feigned interest in something she could see through the slats of the felze for a moment before turning to respond to Seraphina. “ Grazie. I have Flavia to thank for that.”
“Nonsense,” Flavia said graciously. “All I did was bring out the
beauty that was already there.”
Arabella rolled her eyes. “Someone is already practicing her
charm skills.”
In her golden wig, Cass’s hair was almost as light as Arabella’s.
Cass wondered if the blonde courtesan was naturally fair-haired or
if she also wore a wig. Arabella caught her staring and raised a pale
eyebrow. Cass quickly looked down at the boat’s leather interior. She
took comfort in the hum of the women’s voices, smiling at their lighthearted teasing of one another. Was this what it would have been like
if she’d had sisters? Feliciana and Siena were the closest thing Cass
had to sisters, and now Siena was dead and Feliciana was mourning. Cass couldn’t shake the thought that what had happened in
the Doge’s dungeons had forever changed her relationship with
Feliciana—that they would never be close again.
The gondolier navigated a narrow stretch of canal, muttering as
his boat scraped up against a stone retaining wall. They turned into
a wider stretch of water that eventually met the Grand Canal. There
were several other boats out on the water, mostly gleaming gondolas
adorned with royal crests and filled with well-dressed nobles. Unlike
the intimate atmosphere of the Florentine Palazzo della Notte parties, it seemed as if all the nobility in Venice was heading to Palazzo
Domacetti.
The boat glided past Palazzo Rambaldo and Cass thought of Madalena still in Florence with her husband, Marco, possibly expecting
their first child. She wished she could be there for her friend. She
knew it was an exciting but scary time for Mada, whose own mother
had died giving birth.
Palazzo Domacetti loomed in the distance. It was one of the largest and most ornate homes on the Grand Canal, at least twice the size
of the palazzos on either side of it. A gondola carrying two men
dressed in fine embroidered doublets and wide-brimmed velvet hats
pulled alongside the girls as they approached.
“Good
Similar Books
