the room.
Cass started to follow her but then stopped.
Joseph Dubois stood near a table laden with enormous pies and a
giant roasted bear, a gleaming baked apple tucked between its sharp
canines. Dubois accepted a slice of meat from a servant who was dutifully carving the bear to order, and then turned back to the woman
he was chatting with: Donna Domacetti. Cass’s insides twisted with
revulsion. It made her sick the way that all of Venetian nobility refused to see Dubois for what he was—a liar and a murderer. Even
Feliciana seemed to be back under his spell. How could his influence
make people so blind?
Shaking her head in disgust, Cass hurried to catch up with Flavia,
and both girls blended into the group of dancers. Cass followed the
lead of the man across from her, switching dance partners occasionally as she worked her way closer to Dubois. Just as she was about to
close in on him, another familiar faced floated into view.
Belladonna! Cass’s heart went still in her chest. She had known it
was possible the Florentine leader of the Order of the Eternal Rose
might be at this party, but the room blurred for a second as all the
horrors Cass had faced in Florence came rushing back: Hortensa’s
execution, the dog attack, waking up with her wrists bound to her
bed, Piero drugging her and stealing her blood. And the worst of all:
Belladonna bathing in the blood of an innocent Florentine girl whom
Piero had murdered in the name of the Order.
“Signorina, are you all right?” A man with dark hair and a feathered cap looked down at her curiously.
Cass realized she’d stopped dancing right in the middle of the
song, and the man had nearly collided with her. “Fine. Sorry,” she
murmured. Dropping her eyes to the ground, she took his hand,
moving once more to the music as she darted looks at Falco’s patroness. Belladonna carried her shimmering teal skirts over to where
Dubois and Donna Domacetti were talking.
Belladonna gestured at a doorway on the far side of the portego.
Dubois nodded but didn’t move. Donna Domacetti threw back her
head and cackled at a joke no one else seemed to find funny. Eventually the donna was pulled away by a woman wearing a ridiculously
large hat. Belladonna and Dubois turned away from the festivities.
Cass waited until they left the portego and then hurried off in the
same direction. She was grateful they hadn’t gone in the direction of
the lower floor. She would have had a hard time explaining why she
was trolling the damp storage areas if anyone caught her. Instead,
they wandered into a small salon full of Greek sculptures across the
hall. Cass loitered just outside the doorway, her ear pressed to the
marble as she struggled to hear.
“I know you have it, Joseph,” Belladonna said. “My patience
wears thin.”
“Bella, I already told you. I have my best men seeking out the
criminal who stole your book. After all, my name is on certain pages
of that book that I should not like to see spread around the Republic.” Dubois’s words were calm, slick, as always. Cass had never
heard him raise his voice.
“I know you sent your mangy old physician to Florence to steal it
from me. It’s the only thing that makes sense, though how he contrived admittance to my chambers I shall never know.”
Cass’s hands started to shake. The book was still missing, but Belladonna seemed to think Angelo de Gradi had stolen it. Luca had
gone to Angelo’s workshop the previous day. Perhaps he had seen
something. Or perhaps Angelo had passed the book on to his employer and Dubois was lying to Belladonna.
“Certainly not, since you felt the need to kill him,” Dubois murmured.
“How was I to know a person could bleed to death from a few
severed fingers?” Belladonna said. “I’m really impressed by how
long the old man held out. Clearly, he was more loyal than I ever
imagined.”
Cass’s stomach churned. Belladonna had tortured and murdered
Dubois’s physician in
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