Fruit of the Golden Vine Read Online Free PDF

Rafael beguile you with?”
    “I wouldn’t dare repeat them. He’s a consummate storyteller. Silvana interrupted now and then to set him right on certain points, and their banter was quite amusing. I think I do like her as well.” Irena closed one eye and examined a heavy silver spoon. She inched it a little to the left. “Mother will be scandalized though. An unmarried woman of her age, strutting about in pants and brandishing a sword, wearing her hair almost like a boy…”
    Adelina giggled. “Stop it. You’re making me breathless.”
    “I wish you’d react that way when my suitors come around. There’s no point whispering and gossiping with Felise. She doesn’t understand anything about adult relations. She thinks a husband exists to give her endless piggyback rides whenever she wants them.”
    “You know, I’ve been feeling sorry for you.” Adelina adjusted Father’s place setting, where Irena had overlooked a crooked edge on the napkin, no doubt distracted by thoughts of Rafael. “But now I’m rather envious. Imagine living in the North, away from Father and his friends, looking at snow and being allowed to read and walk and do whatever you want to.”
    A sympathetic frown creased Irena’s forehead. “You’re right, you know. It truly isn’t fair. You’d love to have that kind of liberty, whereas I’m happy with needlework and caring for children. I almost wish he could marry both of us.”
    “Ugh.” Adelina tossed her hair. “I’d rather marry her instead.”
    Irena’s skin pinked. “Ada, really. Don’t talk nonsense.”
    “Wouldn’t it be perfect though? You’ll marry Rafael, I’ll marry Silvana, and we’ll live together among the wolves. And we’ll smuggle Lise with us in a trunk.”
    Despite her growing blush, Irena giggled. “That’s such an absurd joke. Don’t dare repeat it before Mother.” Voices echoed in the hall, and she straightened up. “That sounds like Father. Is everything arranged?”
    “I think so. How many of his usual guests does he have tonight?”
    “Three.”
    “I wish he wouldn’t bring them here.” Adelina plucked at the embellished edge of the damask tablecloth. “They make me uncomfortable.”
    “I know. But Father would never let anything happen to us.”
    The main dining room doors opened, and a group of men entered. Father took the lead, his fat face glowing with homeowner’s pride. Behind him were three of his regular cronies, whose names Adelina only knew by eavesdropping. The skeleton draped in black silk was Matheus, the town judge, and the red-whiskered leviathan beside him was Orfeo, the owner of the town’s largest inn. Trailing behind them was Marconus, a lean tax collector who never seemed to cease grinning.
    “It’s the strangest thing,” Father said as he guided the men to their usual seats. “The designs are inked right beneath their skin. It’s a remarkable effect.” He waved to Irena and Adelina. “My dear daughters! Will you go stir the servants into hurrying our meal?”
    Orfeo’s gaze lingered on Adelina’s body, and Adelina shuddered. He was the worst of them, always leering from the other end of the table, sometimes a piece of gristle hanging from his teeth. Marconus was decent enough, if rowdy when drunk, and Matheus was practically a corpse. He’d once touched her on the wrist, and she’d found that even his hands carried the chill of death. “Let’s go,” said Adelina, tugging on Irena’s arm.
    They left through the side door and walked the short distance to the kitchen. Their cook, Bruna, was busy within, bent over a seething pot and shouting orders to her identical twin sons, who scampered about the room piling food onto platters and stumbling over each other’s feet.
    “It’s almost ready,” said Bruna without lifting her eyes from the brew bubbling before her. “Maybe ten minutes.”
    “I think he’ll want a lot of wine tonight, Bruna.” Adelina stole a grape from a bowl. “There’re five