the powerful Mini st er of Culture, was supposed to be neutral. If he shifted his views in favor of the Absoluti st s, it might adversely affe ct her people. Northern Portugal had always leaned in that dire ct ion anyway.
Heriberto ignored her reminders. “Your access to the ari st ocracy ju st fled to Paris. The papers claim you went with her, but I hear her mother threw you out on your ear.”
Her blood pounded in her ears, and Oriana pushed down the sick feeling that welled up at his claim.
How did he know
? She glanced down the st reet at the door of the boarding house. Her expulsion would have been fodder for servants’ gossip up and down the Street of Flowers for the pa st few days. It wouldn’t have co st him more than a beer or two to hear
that
tale, but only Carlos had known she was coming to st ay with his elderly kinswoman. He mu st have told Heriberto where to find her. Oriana lifted her chin, trying to appear confident, and lied through her teeth. “When she gets back, Isabel will give me a reference. I’ll find another position then. I ju st need a couple of weeks to get my feet under me.”
“Weeks?” Heriberto snorted and made an obscene ge st ure with his hands that, fortunately, no human would recognize. “To get your feet under you? I heard you’re going to be spending that time on your back to pay your rent. Are you st upid enough to tru st a human with the color of your st ripe?”
Mo st sereia had skin too thick to blush. Oriana was grateful for that at the moment. The warmth flooding her face wouldn’t show. People were passing them on the st reet, none looking very intere st ed in a petty squabble. Fortunately, the reference to the color of her dorsal st ripe—a euphemism for promiscuity back on the islands—wouldn’t mean anything to the passersby who overheard it.
Oriana had no doubt Carlos had claimed she’d agreed to become his lover, but Carlos had never had a chance of seeing her dorsal st ripe. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” she told Heriberto.
“Oh, I never do.” He st epped closer, grasping her sleeve to keep her from escaping. He kept his voice low. “No one’s
ever
seen your st ripe, from what I hear. You know, I could make your life here a great deal more comfortable, girl, if you’re intere st ed. And I’m well liked back home. I could get you a better position in the mini st ry.”
She’d heard that other girls who’d come to the city had done ju st that, taking Heriberto as a lover in exchange for easier assignments and fa st er advancement. It bothered her that he had that much influence. Not because he was male. She had no problem with males in positions of authority. But no one should have that much influence over his workers, especially when he was inclined to abuse it. He made a mockery of his po st ing. She would take Carlos as a lover before Heriberto. No, she would rather turn herself in to the Special Police fir st .
He laughed shortly, as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll give you two weeks. If you don’t have a sound position by then, I’m sending you home. I’ll even make another appointment with the do ct or for you, next Friday. I expe ct you to show up this time. My superiors aren’t as tolerant as I am, and I’m tired of making excuses for you.”
“I under st and.” Oriana jerked her arm free and turned away before Heriberto could say more, almo st colliding with a burly carter carrying a cask on his shoulder. She managed to side st ep out of the man’s path, an awkward dance set to the sound of Heriberto’s laughter. Clasping her notebook closer to her che st , she st rode away.
“Be there Friday at three,” he called after her.
She glanced back and nodded sharply in acknowledgment. She’d won one concession.
“And someone is hunting for you on the st reets,” he yelled. “Asking for you by name. Don’t bring trouble back to my door.”
There was little chance of that. His “door” was a little fishing
Heriberto ignored her reminders. “Your access to the ari st ocracy ju st fled to Paris. The papers claim you went with her, but I hear her mother threw you out on your ear.”
Her blood pounded in her ears, and Oriana pushed down the sick feeling that welled up at his claim.
How did he know
? She glanced down the st reet at the door of the boarding house. Her expulsion would have been fodder for servants’ gossip up and down the Street of Flowers for the pa st few days. It wouldn’t have co st him more than a beer or two to hear
that
tale, but only Carlos had known she was coming to st ay with his elderly kinswoman. He mu st have told Heriberto where to find her. Oriana lifted her chin, trying to appear confident, and lied through her teeth. “When she gets back, Isabel will give me a reference. I’ll find another position then. I ju st need a couple of weeks to get my feet under me.”
“Weeks?” Heriberto snorted and made an obscene ge st ure with his hands that, fortunately, no human would recognize. “To get your feet under you? I heard you’re going to be spending that time on your back to pay your rent. Are you st upid enough to tru st a human with the color of your st ripe?”
Mo st sereia had skin too thick to blush. Oriana was grateful for that at the moment. The warmth flooding her face wouldn’t show. People were passing them on the st reet, none looking very intere st ed in a petty squabble. Fortunately, the reference to the color of her dorsal st ripe—a euphemism for promiscuity back on the islands—wouldn’t mean anything to the passersby who overheard it.
Oriana had no doubt Carlos had claimed she’d agreed to become his lover, but Carlos had never had a chance of seeing her dorsal st ripe. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” she told Heriberto.
“Oh, I never do.” He st epped closer, grasping her sleeve to keep her from escaping. He kept his voice low. “No one’s
ever
seen your st ripe, from what I hear. You know, I could make your life here a great deal more comfortable, girl, if you’re intere st ed. And I’m well liked back home. I could get you a better position in the mini st ry.”
She’d heard that other girls who’d come to the city had done ju st that, taking Heriberto as a lover in exchange for easier assignments and fa st er advancement. It bothered her that he had that much influence. Not because he was male. She had no problem with males in positions of authority. But no one should have that much influence over his workers, especially when he was inclined to abuse it. He made a mockery of his po st ing. She would take Carlos as a lover before Heriberto. No, she would rather turn herself in to the Special Police fir st .
He laughed shortly, as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll give you two weeks. If you don’t have a sound position by then, I’m sending you home. I’ll even make another appointment with the do ct or for you, next Friday. I expe ct you to show up this time. My superiors aren’t as tolerant as I am, and I’m tired of making excuses for you.”
“I under st and.” Oriana jerked her arm free and turned away before Heriberto could say more, almo st colliding with a burly carter carrying a cask on his shoulder. She managed to side st ep out of the man’s path, an awkward dance set to the sound of Heriberto’s laughter. Clasping her notebook closer to her che st , she st rode away.
“Be there Friday at three,” he called after her.
She glanced back and nodded sharply in acknowledgment. She’d won one concession.
“And someone is hunting for you on the st reets,” he yelled. “Asking for you by name. Don’t bring trouble back to my door.”
There was little chance of that. His “door” was a little fishing
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