The Secret of the Glass Read Online Free PDF Page B

elongated flaps extending down to cover the Doge’s ears.
    Sophia and her family could see the Bishop raise his hands and form the sign of the cross, blessing the waters of the sea in peace and gratitude. His hand lowered, fumbled amidst the folds of his robes, and rose back up, the Blessed Ring now in his hands. As he turned to address the Doge, his words took wing on the wind. Mere mutated snippets of sound found the pilgrims on the shore, the melodious tones blending with the strains of madrigals performed by two groups of singers, one on each side of the towering columns. Every man, woman, and child in attendance knew the ancient words the Bishop intoned to Il Serenissimo on behalf of his people.
    “Receive this ring as a token of sovereignty over the sea that you and your successors will be everlasting.”
    Doge Donato stepped forward, accepted the token, and bowed in thanks. Gesturing to the crowd on the banks of the water, he held it high and his archetypically dour countenance broke into a grin.
    “We espouse thee, O Sea, as a sign of true and perpetual domination.” The Doge’s pledge carried across the blue and green waters to the boats and farther on, to the shore, and the sea of anxious captives.
    With a short swing of his long arm, he hurled the ring into the sea. For a moment it glittered against the bright azure sky, a reflection of the golden sun as bright as a star in the black heavens. It arced and fell into the waiting sea, the splash small yet resounding, sealing the marriage. The crowd roared, erupting into cheering jubilation as the small piece of jewelry splashed into the waters, to sink forever into its depths.
    The Fiolario family hugged and kissed each other and many of the crowd around them, strangers who were no longer unfamiliar as they shared this moment of renewal and blessing, cheering and crying as one. These Venetians, forced together by the physical confines of their land, were bonded spiritually, perhaps more than the inhabitants of any vast kingdom. The applause and adulation continued until La Maesta Nav, the ship of majesty, returned to shore, disposing of its passengers amidst the exultant crowd. Only when the Doge, the Bishop, the government officials and honored guests passed through the throng, embracing and shaking hands, did the horde begin to disperse.
    “Come.” Zeno gathered his women as they lit ashore and onto the Piazzetta. “Now to enjoy ourselves.”
     
     
    “It is so wonderful to see you, signore Fiolario.” Doge Donato shook Zeno’s hand with both of his large paw-like ones, his strong voice almost inaudible over the cacophony around them; music of all types, from all corners of the square, mingled with thousands of voices, strange and familiar languages blending into one stream of human sound. Bowing over their hands, brushing a kiss on those of Marcella and Viviana, the imposing ruler acknowledged each of the Fiolario women one at a time.
    It had been a day of wonder and delights, filled with all that the ostentatious celebration had to offer, the bountiful banquets, processions and performers, the jugglers, dancers and acrobats. Oriana and Lia had glimpsed a prince or two, mooned over their handsome faces and opulent dress, but in the end had been too shy to approach them. The sadness and turmoil of the past few days, though not forgotten, had been kept at bay, like water behind a temporary dam, but the Doge’s presence had loosened the flood gates once more. The powerful leader would not have deigned to give a moment’s thought to a family such as theirs if Zeno were not a prestigious member of the Arte dei Vetrai.
    Mother and grandmother gave small, respectful curtsies to the Doge and the group of powerful men behind him, Sophia and her sisters following suit. The small bevy of men offered bows and nods in return.
    “It is a great day for all Venetians.” Zeno’s wide mouth curled up in a ghost of a smile. “A day of compassion and understanding for