Color Song (A Passion Blue Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

take her drawing board into the courtyard, Domenica called her away almost at once, instructing her to dust the containers on the already dust-free supply shelves.
    “What did you do to annoy her so?” Angela asked that evening after Vespers, when she returned to help Giulia finish the day’s work.
    “What do I ever do?” Normally Giulia shared everything with Angela, but she had not yet told her friend about Humilità’s bequest. “I feel more like a servant than an apprentice.”
    “Well, it’s a bad time.” Angela pulled a worn-out bedsheet from the pile that Giulia was tearing up for rags. “None of us is ourself.”
    “Perhaps she’s free to be herself at last,” Giulia said bitterly. “Now that the Maestra’s not here.”
    “Think how difficult it must be for her, Giulia. She must prove that the workshop is still worthy of patronage under her leadership, but she’ll never be Maestra Humilità’s equal, and everyone knows it. It’s no coincidence that we haven’t had any major commissions in the past few months.”
    “You always think the best of people, Angela, even when they don’t deserve it.”
    Angela sighed. “Well, in three weeks you’ll be a vowed nun. That will make a difference. Oh, Giulia.” She claspedher hands, her brown eyes shining. “I can’t wait for your ceremony! We’ll truly be sisters then.”
    Giulia tore another strip of linen. She’d thought she had put away her doubts about becoming a nun a year ago, when she brought Humilità’s book of secrets back to Santa Marta. But Humilità was well then, and Giulia’s path had seemed clear, a smooth transition from apprentice to journeyman to master painter, eventually even to Maestra. Now the path that had seemed so wide and welcoming had darkened and turned in on itself. Giulia could no longer see with any certainty what lay ahead—except her final vows, each day a little closer. Each day a little more inevitable.
    “You’re nervous,” Angela said, perceptive as always. “Don’t worry; it’s natural. All I ever wanted was to vow my life to God, but on the day of my ceremony I could do nothing but weep. Then I put on my wedding dress and crown, and it was as if the Savior himself reached down from heaven and took my hand. All my doubts fell away. The ceremony, the feast . . . it was the most wonderful day of my life. It’ll be the same for you—you’ll see.”
    Giulia nodded, but only because Angela expected it. There would be no wedding dress or feast for her as there were for nuns of noble birth. Her father had been noble, but her mother was a commoner; and in Santa Marta, as in the outside world, her common blood was what defined her. Her vows would be made in Madre Magdalena’s office, in the presence of the abbess and a witness. She would put on her nun’s habit and veil, and go back to work.
    She felt a surge of dread. Even before Humilità’s death, the thought of her final vows had started to make her breathless. Now it was like a hand closing around her heart.
    “Giulia.” Angela put down the knife she was using to nick the sheets to make them easier to tear. “We’ve been wondering. Well, Lucida and Perpetua and I have been wondering. Did the Maestra say anything to you about Passion blue before she died?”
    “No.” The lie was out before Giulia knew she meant to tell it.
    “It’s just that Domenica . . . Maestra Domenica . . . hasn’t mentioned it. And you were closest to Maestra Humilità of all of us.” Angela’s brows drew together in a frown. “Surely she would have wanted to pass it on.”
    “I think I have enough here.” Giulia gathered up the rags she’d made. “I’ll just put them away.”
    She took the rags to the rag basket, then got a broom and began to sweep. It had seemed easier to lie than to explain, but already she regretted it. Too late, though, to take it back.
    —
    In the middle of the next morning, one of the novices came looking for Giulia.
    “You’ve a