herself onto the bed. She was fast asleep when Sarina returned, and they had to hurry, Isabella taking care of her rumpled appearance, Sarina dressing her hair and clucking at her like a hen.
"You must hurry, signorina. You do not wish to keep him waiting too long. He has many appointments. You are but one."
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Isabella apologized. The older woman opened the door for her, but Isabella was suddenly reluctant to step into the corridor, remembering the terrible, overwhelming cloud of evil she had encountered the previous evening.
Isabella was "different." Lucca told her to keep her strange premonitions and oddities to herself, never to allow anyone to know that she was "sensitive" to things beyond what the eye could see. But Lucca and her father had relied on her feelings when they were looking for allies, when they sought others to join their secret societies to protect their lands from continual assaults by outside rulers.
"Signorina," Sarina said softly. "We cannot take a chance on being late for your appointment. He will not grant you another."
Isabella took a deep breath and followed Sarina out the door, patting the angels for good luck as she slipped past. She looked up just as a young serving girl threw water from a golden goblet into her face. The water splashed down her cheeks to drip into the neckline of her dress. Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, staring in numbed shock at the girl standing in front of her.
A sudden silence fell as all work ceased and servants gaped in horrified fascination. The water continued to drip down Isabella's gown, running between her breasts like beads of sweat.
"Alberita!" Sarina chastised the girl, frowning severely, although laughter was evident in her sparkling eyes. "The holy water is sprinkled on one's person, not thrown in one's face!
Scusi, Signorina Isabella, she is young and impulsive and does not always listen well. The holy water was for your protection, not your bath."
Alberita dropped a slight curtsey in Isabella's direction, gaping up at her in horror, her face ashen, tears in her eyes. "Scusi, scusi! La prego do not tell the Master."
"I am most grateful for the protection, Alberita. I shall go to meet my destiny with no trepidation in my heart. Assuredly I have extra protection from any who would seek to harm me." Isabella had to struggle to keep from laughing.
Sarina shook her head and carefully wiped Isabella's face.
"It's good of you to be so understanding. Most others would have demanded she be flogged."
"I have no more status than you, signora," Isabella confessed, unashamed. "And I do not believe in flogging. Well," she muttered under her breath, "perhaps Don Rivellio could use a good flogging."
Sarina's mouth twitched, but she didn't smile. "Come, we mustn't be late. Don DeMarco has a busy schedule. Be certain you are properly respectful."
Isabella glanced at her, certain the older woman was laughing at her, but Sarina was leading the way through the wide corridors and archways. They hurried past several servants working. She noticed that they all looked at her with solemn faces, some of them with tight smiles. All of them made the sign of the cross toward her as if blessing her.
Holy water and blessings from the servants. Isabella cleared her throat. "Signora, is Don DeMarco a member of the Holy Church?" Her voice wavered a little, but Isabella was proud of the fact that she had managed to get the words out without stuttering. She had a sinking feeling that maybe all the rumors about the don were true after all. She sent up a quick, silent prayer that Don DeMarco and God were on good terms.
Sarina Sincini did not answer but walked quickly ahead of her, leading the way into a large open court with winding staircases rising off it in several directions. In the center of the court was a fountain that soared nearly to the second story. It provided Isabella with a measure of relief to see that each cutaway section of the
"You must hurry, signorina. You do not wish to keep him waiting too long. He has many appointments. You are but one."
"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Isabella apologized. The older woman opened the door for her, but Isabella was suddenly reluctant to step into the corridor, remembering the terrible, overwhelming cloud of evil she had encountered the previous evening.
Isabella was "different." Lucca told her to keep her strange premonitions and oddities to herself, never to allow anyone to know that she was "sensitive" to things beyond what the eye could see. But Lucca and her father had relied on her feelings when they were looking for allies, when they sought others to join their secret societies to protect their lands from continual assaults by outside rulers.
"Signorina," Sarina said softly. "We cannot take a chance on being late for your appointment. He will not grant you another."
Isabella took a deep breath and followed Sarina out the door, patting the angels for good luck as she slipped past. She looked up just as a young serving girl threw water from a golden goblet into her face. The water splashed down her cheeks to drip into the neckline of her dress. Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, staring in numbed shock at the girl standing in front of her.
A sudden silence fell as all work ceased and servants gaped in horrified fascination. The water continued to drip down Isabella's gown, running between her breasts like beads of sweat.
"Alberita!" Sarina chastised the girl, frowning severely, although laughter was evident in her sparkling eyes. "The holy water is sprinkled on one's person, not thrown in one's face!
Scusi, Signorina Isabella, she is young and impulsive and does not always listen well. The holy water was for your protection, not your bath."
Alberita dropped a slight curtsey in Isabella's direction, gaping up at her in horror, her face ashen, tears in her eyes. "Scusi, scusi! La prego do not tell the Master."
"I am most grateful for the protection, Alberita. I shall go to meet my destiny with no trepidation in my heart. Assuredly I have extra protection from any who would seek to harm me." Isabella had to struggle to keep from laughing.
Sarina shook her head and carefully wiped Isabella's face.
"It's good of you to be so understanding. Most others would have demanded she be flogged."
"I have no more status than you, signora," Isabella confessed, unashamed. "And I do not believe in flogging. Well," she muttered under her breath, "perhaps Don Rivellio could use a good flogging."
Sarina's mouth twitched, but she didn't smile. "Come, we mustn't be late. Don DeMarco has a busy schedule. Be certain you are properly respectful."
Isabella glanced at her, certain the older woman was laughing at her, but Sarina was leading the way through the wide corridors and archways. They hurried past several servants working. She noticed that they all looked at her with solemn faces, some of them with tight smiles. All of them made the sign of the cross toward her as if blessing her.
Holy water and blessings from the servants. Isabella cleared her throat. "Signora, is Don DeMarco a member of the Holy Church?" Her voice wavered a little, but Isabella was proud of the fact that she had managed to get the words out without stuttering. She had a sinking feeling that maybe all the rumors about the don were true after all. She sent up a quick, silent prayer that Don DeMarco and God were on good terms.
Sarina Sincini did not answer but walked quickly ahead of her, leading the way into a large open court with winding staircases rising off it in several directions. In the center of the court was a fountain that soared nearly to the second story. It provided Isabella with a measure of relief to see that each cutaway section of the
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