She broke away suddenly, straightening to tower over me once more. I was astonished by her formidable height. As she stepped backwards, her skirts shifted and exposed her shoes. Her heels gave her an extra ten inches at least. She gestured for the servant to come forward. ‘Tallow will not harm you – will you, Tallow?’
‘Of course not.’ I looked at the woman called Hafeza. How could I reassure her? Hafeza gave a slight bob of her head and moved past me quickly, placing the tray on top of the fireplace. She picked up the cup and offered it to me. Her hand trembled slightly and she continued to avert her eyes.
‘Please,’ said Giaconda. ‘Drink while the cafe is still hot.’
‘Grazie.’ I gently took the cup from Hafeza who, with the merest flash of a smile, almost ran back to the fireplace. From there I felt her watching me, sizing up the menace I posed.
Giaconda clicked in exasperation. ‘I should apologise for Hafeza. She has been with the family for a long time. We bought her when she was just a young woman. She’s actually very clever, just superstitious – like all her kind. Over the months, you will find her services indispensable. I certainly don’t know what I would do without her.’ She allowed herself a private smile.
I turned to the slave. ‘Grazie, Hafeza.’
Hafeza lowered her head in acknowledgement, but she did not answer with the customary ‘Prego’.
‘She cannot speak Serenissian?’ I asked Giaconda.
Giaconda raised an eyebrow. ‘She cannot speak at all. Hafeza is mute. Essential in a servant who knows the secrets of the boudoir and who is privy to your presence.’ Before I could consider what she meant, she gestured to the cup. ‘Enough chatter. Drink.’ Giaconda left my side and perched herself on the end of the bed. Her dress collapsed in obeisance at her feet.
I carefully sipped the cafe. It was bitter and sweet all at once. My head began to clear. Poor Hafeza. I wondered what it would be like to not be able to express yourself through words. Pillar’s mother, Quinn, had always said that Serenissima was a country that traded in words as much as it did in products. That we were all born with a gift for language – even my kind. And to what secrets did Giaconda refer? What happened in a boudoir that could not be spoken of openly? I almost blushed as I pondered the naïvety of my question. Only the presence of Giaconda brought me back to the moment. This woman also implied a long-term arrangement – months, she’d said. What had I agreed to on the gondola?
I needed some answers. I put down the cup on the cabinet. ‘Signorina,’ I began. ‘Grazie. For rescuing me and for this.’ My arm swept the room. ‘Grazie mille.’
She lowered her head graciously. ‘Prego.’
‘But I have a few questions for you. I know we spoke on the gondola …’ I glanced out the window again and a thought occurred. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘The bells for Nona rang some time ago. I suspect the Maragona will chime soon,’ said Giaconda, referring to the great bell in the campanile that sounded at various times of the day, reminding workers of their obligations.
Midday had passed and I’d slept right through. It was late afternoon. Now I understood why my body was so sluggish, my thoughts initially jumbled: I’d been asleep for hours. Then, I tasted it: the sour tang at the back of my throat. ‘You drugged me,’ I accused.
Giaconda laughed. It sounded like a bell itself. ‘Such a harsh word for something that was administered with the best of intentions; for medicinal purposes. You have been through so much, Tallow. From what you told us, you have experienced such loss, so much tragedy. More than most people endure in a lifetime. You needed time to recover – and not just your body. I simply ensured you were given a little.’
I considered her words. They sounded sincere. Thoughts of Dante pricked the edges of my mind. The weight of anguish sat beneath my breasts, a burden I would forever carry. ‘You’re right. I did, I do need time. Grazie. You have saved me in more ways than one. But I don’t understand. Why? Why have you brought me here, to your casa? You know what I am, what keeping me here means, the risk you’re taking.’
She sat very still, her eyes on my face, her hands folded in her lap. I