Starling (42 page)
Authors: Fiona Paul
that she would grow to love Luca over time. Was that what was happening? They hadn’t spent that much time together since he had returned to Venice. But somehow his touch, his kisses, they had begun
to affect her differently. A fit of anxiety gripped her. Did she do the
same for him? Or was he just as beholden to his parents’ wishes as she
had been? Would he rather spend time with someone like Seraphina?
“I fear I have overwhelmed you,” Seraphina said. “You look so
worried. Things will be fine, Capricia. If you do not win back your
betrothed, you will find another match, if you so desire. Shall we go
inside and see what Octavia was wanting?”
Cass nodded. “I was thinking that I wanted to know more of your
secrets,” she admitted. “I hope we can speak again like this. I want
to . . . understand the right things to do.”
Seraphina leaned in to give Cass a kiss on the cheek, tucking an
unruly shock of Cass’s hair back behind her ear. She let her palm
linger on Cass’s jawbone for a second. Cass inhaled the scents of vanilla and rosewater from the courtesan’s skin. She could feel Seraphina’s heart beating through the tips of her fingers. “You need only do
what your heart tells you to do,” Seraphina said. “That will be
enough for the right man, I promise.”
does the sun begin to rise.”
—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE
eleven
s she prepared for the party that night, Cass went
over her conversation with Seraphina repeatedly,
practicing her smile, pretending to hang on an imaginary man’s every word. She still wasn’t sure she could
fool anyone into believing she was a courtesan. And worse, she was
Forcing herself to remain calm, she went through all of the reasons why it was important for her to go to Palazzo Domacetti: to
eavesdrop on anyone who might know the location of the Book of the
Eternal Rose, to learn if Dubois was now working with Belladonna,
to identify other Order members, and to see if these parties were
anything like those thrown at the Palazzo della Notte in Florence.
One of Octavia’s courtesans was dead, and a second girl was missing.
They routinely attended parties like this one. Octavia had risked
being arrested to shelter Cass. If she was unwittingly sending her girls
into danger, the least Cass could do was inform her of the risks.
Cass went to the window and flung open the shutters, inhaling warm
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breaths of humid air. The breeze ruffled the threadbare coverlet on
her bed and made the old candelabra dangling from the ceiling sway
back and forth. Normally servants’ rooms weren’t adorned with such
frivolities, but evidently a past owner of the house had seen fit to
emulate the grander rooms downstairs. She glanced nervously at the
tarnished fixture, tracing the rope from the brass candleholders
down to where it was tethered to the wall for raising and lowering.
The rope’s fibers were fraying in places, and the way the candelabra
groaned in the wind made Cass worry it might come crashing down
at any moment.
“Capricia? Are you getting ready?” Flavia’s musical voice carried
from across the hall. “Do you need assistance?”
Cass had borrowed another of Octavia’s gowns for the event, a
burgundy bodice with layers of silvery-gray skirts and lacy gray
sleeves. She could put on the skirts herself but would need help lacing her stays and bodice. Perhaps Flavia also had a wig she could
borrow or at least some heavy eye and lip color she could use to disguise herself. Cass tugged the skirts over her slim hips. “Coming.”
She slipped across the hallway into Flavia’s room.
Flavia laced her stays so tightly that for a moment Cass thought of
Siena, and her eyes welled with tears. Why had she always been so
short with her handmaid? As she threaded her arms through her
bodice, she squeezed one hand into a fist, focusing on the pain of her
fingernails digging into her palms. She couldn’t break down. She had
to be strong.
“Stunning,” Flavia declared as she secured the bodice and
stepped back for a better look. “What were you planning to do with
your hair?”