Authors: Dane
“Something happened to me while I went missing that year. Something unspeakable. The memories of it are locked inside the minds of.. two. .
other personalities buried inside me. At times, they surface and take control of my speech and actions.”
Eva came to him, her gaze a soft mix of horror and empathy. “That explains some things.”
“I‟m sure.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn‟t get any answers from Dante, the one I know best. Until you came.”
At that, the truth of her part in tonight seemed to dawn on her and her expression tightened. “You were using me to draw out his secrets.”
The brothers stony silence damned them. Quickly, she found her slippers and tugged them on. “Then now that my usefulness has ended, I‟ll bid you good night.”
But Bastian barred the door with a casual shift of his body. “You are more important to all this than you think,” he told her. “We believe the secrets his mind holds could lead us to Luc. Dane‟s sanity could be at risk here, and Luc‟s very life. This brings urgency to our need to get answers, by any means necessary.”
“Shut up, brother,” said Dane, pushing past him. The last thing he wanted was for her to think him insane. “Come with me, Eva. I‟ll see you home.”
She let him take her downstairs and outside into the cool night. “It seems like a year has passed since I went inside this place,” she said, gazing up at the stars with a melancholy air.
“None of it matters,” he said. “You won‟t remember tomorrow. I didn‟t invite you to.”
“Oh.”She sent him a sideways glance. “Does that mean you won‟t remember either?”
He shook his head. “The satyrs are the only species who don‟t require a formal invitation. I‟ll remember.”
“That‟s hardly fair.” Though she was glad it meant she would remember as well. There were many parts of this night she would never, ever want to forget. In future lonelier times, she would reflect on them like cherished sepia photos of her all-too-brief salacious past.
But Dane only shrugged. “Sevin‟s salon. Sevin‟s rules.”He whistled into the night and they heard the clop of hooves.
“Men,” she grumbled. “It annoys me that you can make things happen with so little effort. Were I to whistle, I assure you no carriage would appear.”
He smiled at her, masculine charm tilting at the corners of his lips.
“Then it seems you must keep me around, if only for convenience sake.”
She sighed. “Dane.. ”
“You were not just a tool. Not just a pleasant way to pass a night,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I admit I was afraid to tell you the truth. Afraid you‟d think I was a freak. You wouldn‟t be the first.”
“You are not a freak,” she said passionately. She had good reason to know how that label could hurt. Yes, she was angry that he‟d kept secrets from her, yet wasn‟t she harboring secrets of her own? If she were brave enough to reveal hers, what would he do? Tell the Council? Or protect her instead, and jeopardize his own future and his family‟s? She wouldn‟t risk either consequence, and she wouldn‟t ask him to make such a painful choice.
The carriage drove up and she turned to him. “There is to be another gala tomorrow night,” she offered solemnly. “In Circo Massimo, near the Forum. You‟ll come?”
He made a frustrated sound and stared off into the distance toward the eerie glow of the Forum lights. “My interest in finding a human wife wanes,” he said, but then he looked at her again and nodded. “But I‟ll be there.”When she moved to the carriage, he stepped closer. “One thing, Eva, before you go. . ”And then, gently, he placed his palms over her eyes and spoke as if casting a spell. “I invite you.”And then his hands were gone. “To remember.”
Her heart melted at this gift, though he had no way of knowing his invitation had not been necessary.
“Thank you,” she whispered. And then she planted a quick buss on his lips and stepped into the carriage, sitting back so he wouldn‟t see her face crumple with emotion. He‟d had so much loss, so much pain in his life, so much uncertainty. Yet he had faced her bravely tonight and admitted the terrible truth of his past and present, and now had trusted her to safeguard what she‟d learned. She put a hand to her tightened chest, feeling the awful knot of her own secrets lodged there unspoken, for she could not find the courage to be as honest in return.
“Tomorrow night, then.” He smacked the side of the carriage and it lurched off.
She peeked at him from the blind, eyes clinging to his figure until he was swallowed by the night. “Yes,” she whispered into her lonely carriage. “Tomorrow.”
13
“Carmen! Come in from the rain, cara. The night is atrocious.”Serafina Patrizzi shut the door and clasped her longtime friend‟s impressive girth in a perfunctory hug. “You‟ve come alone?”she enquired, ignoring the girl who trailed her friend.
“My Alfredo is in Venice on business,” Carmen replied.
“It‟s just as well. Our men departed for the bowels of the earth an hour ago, and he would have been left behind. It‟s so good to see you. It‟s been too long.”
“It‟s the cholera that keeps me away. The epidemic is driving all of my relatives from Naples and into my household here in Rome. My mother, my grandmother, my nine cousins, and on and on. Bah!”
“Goodness! How do you deal with so many?”
“It‟s a trial,” said Carmen. “I tell you I scarcely have time to myself. I know I must look a bit haggard.”
“Hardly.”
The two women smiled at each other, enjoying their little joke.
Both were uncommonly youthful for their ages. But they worked at maintaining their looks most diligently.
“And who is this?”Serafina asked, finally deigning to notice the young woman behind Carmen. She took the girl‟s chin between thumb and forefinger, tugging her face left and right. “Very nice.”
The girl pulled away, a trifle suspicious.
“Her name is Nella. I met her only this afternoon when my carriage took a wrong turn and wound up on Esquiline.” Carmen paused, shedding her wrap and brushing a few errant raindrops from her skirts. “She has freckles on her cheeks as you see. Except for that she‟s a darling girl.”
“How old are you?”Serafina asked.
“Sixteen, signora.”
“A lovely age!”Carmen declared. “But the unfortunate dear is unmarried and recently bore a stillborn babe, can you imagine? She has complained that her bosom is paining her, swollen as it is with a mother‟s milk, yet no child to take it from her.”
Both women glanced at the girl‟s breasts, then exchanged significant looks. Nella folded her shabby shawl modestly over her bodice.
“Oh, don‟t be shy. It‟s just us ladies here,” Serafina teased.
“I told her she will have the young men lining up to marry her if she just rids herself of those awful spots. I knew that she could benefit from our cosmetics, so I invited her,” said Carmen. “I hope it‟s not an imposition?”
“No, indeed,” said Serafina. Smiling at the girl, she took her work-roughened hand, patting it. “I myself once had a freckle. Right here.” She touched a fingertip to her nose. “But within a few days after using our cream, it was gone. Poof!”
“I can‟t pay,” the girl admitted, relaxing under Serafina‟s easy manner.
“No matter. Come along.”Serafina took her arm, leading her into th e house. “You‟ll help us with our work instead.”
“Is that Carmen I hear?”called a voice from farther down the corridor they entered.
Turning inside a doorway, the two women joined four others in Serafina‟s tastefully decorated private salon. It had been done in the Tuscan style in ambers and rusts, with at least two dozen busts and paintings culled from the ruins of the Forum itself. Shelves built into one wall were neatly stacked with smooth jars, vials, and small boxes, all similarly labeled.
“Carmen. At last!”
Carmen opened her arms wide in boisterous greeting. “Anna!
Leona! Magda! Cecile!”She kissed each in turn on both cheeks.
“Finally, we can begin,” said Leona, as she began to fill six golden goblets from a bottle of wine. And then a seventh silver one filled from a different bottle.
“I can‟t help if I‟m late,” said Carmen as she settled herself in a chair. “But you‟ll forgive me when you see what I‟ve brought. A young lady to help us with our good works. Step forward, Nella, and let everyone see you.”
The girl lingered in the doorway, unsure.
“Nella has freckles she wishes to be rid of,” Serafina confided to the others. “It is only left to us to determine which of our creams might be most effective for her.”She gestured the girl closer. “Come, we won‟t bite.
We need to see you to judge what will suit.”
Hesitantly, Nella took a few steps into the room. Seeing the girl was eyeing the refreshments on the tea cart, Serafina urged her to try what she liked. “Here, you must have a cannoli, yes? And, Leona, give our guest a bit of wine.”
At the offer, Nella‟s suspicions gave way to hunger. Looking like she‟d died and gone to heaven, she gobbled the sweet and three more, then tossed the offering of wine down her throat as well. Her six hostesses sipped from their golden goblets, watching her.
“Is that the freckle cream?”the girl asked, nodding toward the jars on the shelves.
“Yes, but ladies never begin business with gentlemen watching.
They prefer us to be decorative rather than industrious,” Serafina instructed.
Nella wrinkled her nose in puzzlement.
Serafina set her drink aside and stood, and her companions followed suit. From a stack on one of the shelves, she handed the girl several pieces of velvet, each the size of a small tablecloth. “Here, you must help us, cara.”
“Yes, while she still can,” Carmen chuckled into her goblet. One of the others gave her an elbow in the rib, shushing her.
“Veil the men with these, there‟s a good girl,” said Serafina. When Nella still looked confused, Serafina gestured toward a row of busts atop pedestals. “The marble heads over there.”She demonstrated, draping a painting of Bacchus with another length of cloth. The other ladies each took up dark gauzy veils themselves, each covering several pieces of artwork.
“No, not that one dear. Only the men,” Serafina cautioned when Nella went to drape a bust of Diana the Huntress.
“Why?”
“It‟s tradition,” Carmen told her.
“When do I get the cream?”Nella persisted.
“Soon. But we have an order in which things must be done on these occasions,” said Serafina, draping a bust of Cicero. “We have a new treatment for lengthening the eyelashes also. The maschera, also known as rimmel. Would you like that, dear? Longer lashes?”
“Do you think I need it, signora?”The girl raised a finger to brush her lashes, as if to test their thickness.
“It couldn‟t hurt, could it? Gentlemen admire such things.”
Once every masculine bust and painting had been shrouded, Serafina announced, “Gather around, ladies.”
Nella perched on the small couch then and allowed her skin to be treated.
“There. Just wait a bit and we‟ll wash it off when it‟s time,”
Serafina told her before turning to the other ladies. “Any other complaints?”
Carmen lifted her skirt. “I have a bothersome mole to be treated on my knee.”
“That‟s a wart,” Anna declared, peering at it.
“Mind your own business, strega.” Carmen shoved her skirts lower.
Anna shrugged in the blithe Italian way. “If you don‟t wish to hear the truth, don‟t ask.”
Conversation continued as an errant wrinkle was treated, a liver spot on the back of a hand, a blemish, Carmen‟s knee.
The creams were set aside a half hour later, and Serafina said,
“There, that‟s done. On to paperwork and orders.”
“I‟m pleased to report that business is excellent, particularly in Paris, and income is up,” said Magda.
“We‟ll need to obtain more raw materials. Coal dust, petroleum jelly, vinegar, apples, clay, glycerin, and of course, the olives most importantly,”said Leona. The other ladies perked to attention as she turned to Serafina. “About the loss of your grove—“
Serafina stiffened. “What about it?”
“I had the news from my own son who was there at the card table that night,” Leona informed her. “He claimed one of those Satyr lords won it from your boy.”
“The olives cannot leave the family,” Cecile said in distress.
“What if we are found out!”
“Shush! Do calm down, Cecile. I‟m taking care of it,” Serafina said in irritation. “I plan to offer my daughter to Lord Satyr, as wife, in order to bring the land back into our fold.”
“Alexa?”asked Leona.
“Do I have another daughter?”
“Does she agree?”asked Carmen.
“It was her suggestion,” Serafina told them.
“Before they wed, we‟ll induct her into our group, of course,” said Magda, flipping through her book. “When you have a date, let me know and I‟ll adjust our meeting calendar to allow for the ceremony.”
Serafina nodded. “There is the small matter of my lack of husband to perform the rite with her.”
“You really should get married again, cara. Isn‟t your bed cold?”Anna nagged.
“It‟s as warm as I wish it to be,” Serafina replied briskly. She‟d loved only once, and the object of her affections had not been her husband, but rather the inconstant Angelo.
“Well, then, who will volunteer their husband to stand in during the ceremony?”asked Carmen, glancing around their circle.
“That won‟t be necessary,” said Serafina. “Alexa has a brother.
He‟ll do as I tell him.”
“I thought he was impotent,” Cecile pointed out.