Heart of Glass - By Sasha Gould Page 0,55

and my skin prickles with anxiety.

“They’re in the parlor,” she says.

And then I’m at the doors, and my thumping heart almost stops. For it isn’t only Allegreza in the room. Others from the Segreta, at least ten, including Grazia, are ranged about. To anyone else, it would look like a gathering of well-to-do ladies taking tea. But my eyes travel among the aging faces, and see they all wear the silver rings on their middle fingers. These are the most senior of our number.

“Well?” Allegreza says. “What brings you here?”

I bite my lip. “I went to the convent.”

Women exchange startled glances. The temperature of the room seems to drop. “What?” Allegreza’s fury is not far from the surface of her face.

“Forgive me, please. I wanted to find out her secret! Roberto, his reputation—his life!—depend on it. I was just trying to do the right thing.”

Allegreza nods to her servant, who closes the doors.

“She wouldn’t speak to me at first,” I continue, “but when I mentioned Aysim she became angry and defensive. I told her about Halim’s distress and I also told her that … that I knew her.” Several of the women frown in confusion. “When I was disturbed at the meeting on Murano … it was her, I’m sure of it. I’m sorry I went against your orders, but …”

Allegreza’s lips are pale, her eyes dark and deadly. “And what did you learn, Laura?”

And so we come to it. In a halting voice, I tell her of the escape, and with each word my shame grows. The glares I receive tell the same story. None of these women would have made the same foolish mistake.

Our leader turns her back on me and addresses the other women in a trembling voice. “You’ve heard what happened. It is of primary importance that this woman be found again. I ask you all to do what you can. You have contacts, you know the city’s secrets. Talk, persuade, bribe—whatever it takes. But find out where this girl is!”

The women nod and begin to filter from the room, leaving me with Allegreza. She still has her face turned away from me.

“I specifically forbade you to go to that place,” she says, her voice cold. I don’t know what to say in response. Finally, she turns and the curl of disgust at her mouth makes the blood drain from my face. “You can go now.”

I think about speaking once more, but what can I offer but pleading and excuses? I leave, back into the harsh daylight of a city that no longer seems to be my friend.

I’ve failed Allegreza, and I’ve failed the Segreta.

But worst of all, I’ve failed Roberto.

27

“Chaos,” Father grumbles. His eyes dart over to see if I’m listening—clearly he has something on his mind. “Nothing but chaos.”

We’re dining, just the two of us, as Lysander and Emilia are visiting friends. The food turns to mush in my mouth, and I struggle to swallow. I cannot stop thinking about how badly I performed today. But I must humor my father.

“What do you mean?”

He pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it down greedily, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Then he shrugs. “People are talking.”

“People are always talking in Venice,” I say.

He watches my face carefully. “Yes, but this is different. There are men who …” He allows his words to hang in the air.

“Men who what?” My nerves are suddenly alert. “Is this about the Grand Council? What have they been saying?”

Father twists a napkin round and round between his knuckles. He hangs his head to one side, as though unsure about what to share with a simple woman.

“There’s a faction,” he says eventually. “I think I see their side of things.”

“What side of things?” Venice doesn’t need more intrigue, not at a time like this.

“They think that the Doge is handling the city’s affairs badly, that he is too compromised by everything that is happening in his family—one son dead and another a murderer.”

I flinch at his words. “How can you talk about Roberto like that—your future son-in-law?” I ask.

“Do you blame me?” he replies. “All of Venice says the same thing.”

“What else do they say?” Father pushes his chair away from the table, as though preparing to leave. “Tell me!” I say, my voice dark with warning. “You’ve started, so you may as well finish.”

Father throws his napkin down on the table. “The Doge’s position is becoming untenable,” he says, staring me brazenly in the face.