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you.”
    Cass tried not to flinch. Siena’s sister smelled almost as bad as the marketplace.
    Feliciana pulled back and held the end of her sleeve up to her face. “Ugh, I smell like rotten squid.” She looked pleadingly at Cass. “For the good of everyone here, would it be possible to wash up?” She turned her eyes on Siena.
    “Absolutely,” Cass said. “Siena will get you anything you need.” She cleared her throat meaningfully. “Just be discreet.”
    Siena scampered off. Cass still hadn’t worked out exactly where she could hide Feliciana. The servants were notorious gossips, and all of Venice would know of her reappearance by the end of the week if any of them spotted her. Cass wished she could stash her former handmaid in the butler’s quarters; she was in no danger of being spotted there. Bortolo was so blind that if spindly Feliciana stood holding out her arms, he’d probably mistake the girl for a coatrack.
    That gave Cass an idea. Just across from the butler’s office was Agnese’s storage area. If Cass could manage to sneak the key, Feliciana could hide out on the villa’s lower level with minimal danger of being discovered. It would be much safer than if Siena tried to hide her away in the servants’ quarters.
    Siena returned with two clay jugs of warm water and a bundle of clothing tucked under her arm. She poured the water into the basin that sat in Cass’s tiny bathroom. Stripping out of her cloak and dress, Feliciana stepped into the bathroom in just her chemise. She had grown so thin over the past month that Cass could see her ribs through the thin garment. “Burn those clothes, will you?” Feliciana said.
    Siena gathered her plain skirts and sat daintily on the bed next to Cass. Her eyes flicked back and forth from the doorway to the bathroom to the tiny prayer alcove just outside. Below the crucifix mounted on the wall, a small statue of Cass’s favorite saint sat on a marble pedestal. San Antonio. Cass often prayed to him about things that were lost. Now she thanked him for things that were found. Warmth bloomed inside of her as she heard Feliciana singing to herself as she washed up. She might be thin and bruised and bald, but Feliciana was still the same vivacious girl who had been Cass’s handmaid for the better part of four years. At least her ordeal had not dampened her spirits.
    “I think we should hide her downstairs for the time being,” Cass said quietly, knowing this would disappoint Siena. “Agnese’s storage.”
    “I was hoping she might stay with me.” Siena picked at her skirts.
    “It’s too dangerous,” Cass said. “Someone will see her, and then the whole marketplace will be buzzing with the news that she’s been found.”
    Siena nodded slowly. “You’re right.” She shot Cass a weak smile. “And I suppose your aunt’s storage room is better than the nunnery or the Ghetto. At least we can bring her food. And visit her whenever we want.”
    Feliciana emerged from the bathroom wearing a plain white bonnet and Siena’s newest servant’s outfit, a royal-blue-and-gray ankle-length dress that hung loosely on her gaunt frame. She flounced down on the bed between Cass and Siena. “Are you discussing what to do with me?” she asked.
    “We’ll keep you in my room until everyone falls asleep,” Cass said firmly. “Then we’ll sneak you downstairs. The servants don’t even dust some of those rooms, so at least we know you’ll have privacy.” Still, Cass didn’t know how long they could stash Feliciana down there before someone noticed Siena’s visits—or before Feliciana went crazy from boredom. But she wouldn’t worry about that now.
    A stern rapping sounded at the door. Cass froze. Siena let out a yelp. Feliciana sprang up from her seat on the coverlet and crawled beneath the bed, disappearing just as the door to Cass’s bedchamber flew open. 

four
“The Church foolishly equates the victimless act of heresy with the crimes of robbery and