Starling (31 page)

The girl’s dark skin reminded Cass of Piero. She wondered if she or
her parents had come to Venice from one of the Mediterranean islands.
“That’s Octavia,” Maximus whispered, gesturing toward the
older woman. “We’ll just wait here for her to finish.”
Octavia had high cheekbones and a bit of gray hair showing at her
temples. She sat with her chin high and her shoulders back, managing
to look regal despite the plunging neckline of her dress. “So you see,
dear,” she said to the girl across from her. “There’s more to your position here than being good at carnal affairs. A man wants to be with
a woman who is sophisticated and worldly, or at least appears so.”
“Yes, Octavia.” The girl nodded vigorously, and her tight black
curls bounced up and down. She tapped one of her feet repeatedly
and fidgeted on her chair. Cass noticed she was wearing a ring on
every finger of her left hand.
“This is not the first time one of our clients has had words with
me regarding your . . . demeanor.”
“Perhaps we ought to come back later,” Cass murmured, backing
away from the doorway.
“Nonsense,” Maximus said. He rapped delicately on the doorframe, and Octavia looked up.
“Maximus, darling,” she trilled. She rose from behind her desk,
smoothing her low-cut bodice. Cass tried not to stare at Octavia’s
breasts, but it was difficult. They were so large and round, just waiting to spill out of her dress the first time she bent over even slightly.
Yet she somehow managed to curtsy to Maximus and still remain
decent.
“Who is your little friend?” Octavia asked, settling back into her
chair.
Cass hated when people spoke about her as if she wasn’t even in
the room. She cleared her throat as if to speak, but Maximus nudged
her in the ribs.
“Let’s just say she’s a noblewoman who fell upon a bit of bad luck.
Her betrothed has cast her out, and she’s here to inquire about lodging for the night.”
Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “Cast her out, you say?” She turned to
Cass. “Did you take another lover, dear?”
The olive-skinned courtesan’s eyes widened at this. She turned
completely around in her chair, seemingly delighted at the idea of
such a scandal.
Mannaggia.
Cass should have known enough to come up with a
story before arriving at the brothel. She glared at Maximus before
responding through gritted teeth. “I did.”
“Flavia, you may be excused. We will talk more of your studies
later.” Octavia made a shooing motion with her hands, and the courtesan reluctantly headed for the corridor. “Close the door behind
you, please,” Octavia added.
“Goodnight all,” Flavia said. She dipped into a partial curtsy before leaving the room.
“Now then, where were we?” Octavia said, once the door had
clicked shut. Her eyes flicked from Maximus to Cass. “That’s right.
You were about to tell me who you
really
are and why you’ve sought
refuge at my establishment tonight.”
Cass looked over at Maximus. He nodded gently. Turning back
to Octavia, Cass licked her lips, but no words came out.
“You can trust Octavia,” Maximus murmured, resting a reassur