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Authors: Lisa T. Bergren

BOOK: DELUGE
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We entered one interior waiting room with a merry fire crackling in a white marble hearth. Two figures were carved into it, as if supporting it. After a few minutes, we were led into another room, and then another. And so on it went, with little explanation, only continuous offerings of food and wine and promises that it would only be “but a moment more.” When we reached the fifth waiting room, I decided it was like one of Disneyland’s clever lines, wrapping from one section to the next, making you think that the wait was now over, but only sucking you in more deeply. And it was there that our knights were sent back to fetch the rest of our family.

Luca was pacing, prattling on about what might have made Lord Gradenigo demand we accompany him. Had there been a standing order from the doge? Was the doge angry with Caterina for not escorting us here immediately? Was it because of my art? And why had they allowed Celso and Falito to accompany us for a time, then sent them back to the Brexiano palace?

“Please, please, Luca,” I said. “Sit. Stop. You’re making me twice as anxious!”

A door opened and a man in uniform bowed toward us. “Thank you for waiting. His Serene Highness shall greet you now. Please, follow me.”

I shared a long look with Luca before I accepted his arm, glad that I hadn’t been alone when this dude found me. But I’d feel even better if Gabs was with us, too…Was that part of his plan? His eagerness to corral me? Some sort of perceived power gained with us separated?

We left the hallway, and our guide opened two new doors, this set inlaid with gold. I hesitated at the threshold. The room was the size of a football field, the ceiling soaring fifty feet above us. It was divided into sections, and each section—like the walls around us—had been painted by various masters in elaborate frescoes, the scenes depicting battles on land and sea, victorious marches, processionals outside on the piazza de San Marco. I nearly froze in place. On the far wall, panel after panel continued one scene on the green Adriatic, a fleet of fierce, fine ships, sailing off into the sunset, their flags proudly displaying the lion. I so wanted to rush over to them, get closer to see what method the masters had used, but Luca was pulling me along, grunting my name in an effort to bring my attention back into focus.

Twenty men and a few women divided to make way for us to approach the dais, where a man in an odd hat sat in a throne-like chair, his collar high, his salt-and-pepper beard long. He leaned his head up to better hear the man whispering into his ear, and then he was alight, swiftly moving down the stairs to greet us, a wide smile on his face.

I dared to take a breath. Surely a man this glad to see us wasn’t bent on harming us.

“My dear girl!” he cried, hands splayed outward, as two servants hastened to catch up with him. I caught sight of Caterina scurrying behind, and two men with my canvas between them, as if arguing who would hand it over. “Welcome, welcome, to Venezia,” he said.

I bowed in a low curtsey, thankful for Luca’s strong hand in mine. “Your Highness, we bid you thanks for the kind invitation to court.”

“Rise, She-Wolf,” he grunted. “Let me look upon you.”

I did as he asked, lifting my chin and not dropping my gaze from his. He smiled, and I noticed he was about my height and roughly my father’s age. He took a turn around me and Luca, as if he expected a true wolf’s tail to emerge from my skirts, then came around to face us again.

“You have taken a great deal of time to respond to my invitation, Sir Forelli,” he said to Luca, clearly knowing exactly who he was without introduction. Perhaps Lord Gradenigo had told him.

“Constant upheaval between our Republic and Firenze kept our attention close to home,
Serenissimo
,” Luca said, with a graceful bow. “Believe me when I say that the Lady Betarrini and I would have enjoyed your court far more than the battles we have endured.”

“Ah, indeed,” said the man, chin in hand. He studied Luca, clearly not missing anything, from his easy way with political matters to his proximity to me. He lifted his finger in the air and shook it. “You are not the first one of your kin to enter this court, Lady Betarrini.”

“So I hear, your grace,” I said, biting my tongue when I felt like blurting,
So…can I see them?
We had to find the right time, the right way to approach it.
Gabi, where are you?

The man’s green-brown eyes twinkled with mischief. He knew I was curious, but he refused to give me any further information. “Over the years, I have heard many tales of you and your sister,” the doge said to me.

“The people do love to talk,” I said.

He smiled a little at that. “You are beautiful, yes,” he said, “but you are no finer than many of the women in my court. No more beautiful than my own daughter. Forgive me my disappointment, but to hear tell of your beauty is to believe that one might see someone more accustomed to angelic realms than our own waterways.”

I suppressed a laugh at this, even as Luca shifted, clearly caught between protesting and remaining silent. “I imagine not,
Serenissimo
,” I said, adopting Luca’s title for him.
The Most Serene.
“Clearly, a man with such power as you would draw the finest of men and the most beautiful of women from far and wide.” I ducked my head in a way that I’d seen Caterina do.

This made the doge smile. “Beautiful
and
with a measure of humility,” he said with admiration. So had it been a test? “This is good, very good.”

He offered his arm and, after a hair’s breath of hesitation, I realized it was for me. I took it, trying to float beside him, as I’d been coached. “Now tell me, Lady Evangelia, of this other gift, of which I’d not heard. I’d come to believe I knew everything possible about you and your sister without meeting you, but here the Consigliere finds you sketching along the canal and discovers you are a finely gifted artist.”

I laughed under my breath, hoping to diffuse this rumor before it got out of control.
Dad’s gonna kill me…
“It is merely a hobby, kind prince. And I would be most humiliated if others were to see it. It is for my eyes alone. Might you permit me to keep it that way?” I dared to lean closer. “I beg you to keep it a secret, Serenissimo. Is there an artist’s guild who would admit a female?”

He lifted his chin. “They would if I demanded it of them.”

I swallowed hard over my fumble. “Certainly. But you see, Serenissimo,” I paused to lift my lashes wide, hoping I looked fetching, innocent, “most men do not favor a woman pressing too far into their own realms. And Sir Luca…well, he already must deal with courting a She-Wolf. That is quite enough of a challenge for one man, without adding another, yes?”

He laughed. “Quite,” he said. He stared at me from the corner of his eye, as if waiting, and I saw that he’d led me to the closest fresco. “It is the newest one, created by Nato Natale himself. Do you like it?”

I dropped my arm from his and paced to the left, then slowly walked to my right, taking in each successive panel. The way the man had constructed it, using foreshortening, it appeared that the fanciful loggia had depth, as if we were looking past a group of people in their finery at a party, out the far end, to sea.

“It is magnificent,” I said to the doge, meaning it.

He nodded, proudly. “I will arrange for you to meet him. Mayhap you can submit to his tutelage as you winter with us.”

“Oh, nay, nay,” I said, shaking my head sadly. Two things alarmed me; his refusal to drop my skills as an artist and his idea that we were to stay here that long. “I’m afraid Lord Forelli will not allow us to tarry here that long. We are only to be here for a brief visit, but we shall be eager to return for a longer visit in the future.”

“A brief visit!” he guffawed. “Many long to linger at court in our beautiful city. I confess I am tempted to take offense with your brief sojourn.”

“I am well aware of the honor you’ve bestowed upon us, Serenissimo.” I put a hand to my chest. “I long to stay in your fair city for much longer, but Lord Forelli must return to Siena.”

“Lord Forelli may return. As one of the Nine, I am aware how his duties must pull at him. But you, my dear,” he said, patting my hand, again on his offered arm, “and your knight, should he be vital to you,”—this, he added with a suggestive waggle of his brows—“may certainly remain here for far longer. Stay here, in the Palazzo Ducale. Experience the finest that Venezia has to offer.”

I smiled, still trying to figure out how to untangle myself. “It is a generous offer, my prince. You honor us both. Thank you.” I hesitated. “Mayhap you are aware that Sir Forelli is captain of Lord Forelli’s guard.”

He lifted his chin, as if understanding at last. “So the man cannot be far from his lord, and the lady cannot be far from her knight,” he said, nodding. “You shall give my court much fodder for their romantic chattering.”

I smiled. “I seem to do my best in that regard,” I said, “wherever I go.”

He grinned back at me a moment before his face abruptly clouded. “But what of your art? A talent such as this, even if born to a female…”

“Must be kept to myself,” I said, daring to finish his sentence. “Please, my prince. I beg your assistance in this.”

His brows drew together, and he considered me. “Does this Sir Forelli,” he said, waving at Luca somewhere behind me, “fear your talent?”

“Oh, nay, nay. But I am already fodder for much gossip,” I said, “as you yourself have indicated. And should it become known that I like to draw…and not in a style favored by the masters, people will see me all the more as an outsider. They’ll be given a whole new reason to chatter on about me. I beg you, Serenissimo, might you keep my secret?”

I stared at him, still with what I hoped were puppy-dog-eyes, hoping I looked as pitiful as possible, so he couldn’t help but say yes to me.

His eyes stayed on mine for a long while, and in them I did not see that I’d managed to charm or cajole him, only intrigue him. My dad had told me that a man did not get elected as doge by luck; he was often the most intelligent and wise man within the nobility, and he was elected for life. Clearly, Doge Andrea Dandolo was no different than his predecessors.

“You, my dear,” he said in a whisper, “are quite clever, are you not?”

I gave him a look of confusion, pretending innocence.

“Ahh, yes, there ’tis. You pretend to be confused, to be addle-minded, but it’s clear you know exactly what you are doing. I appreciate clever women about me. Take Lady Brexiano, for instance,” he said, with a nod of approval toward her. She had been speaking with other noblemwomen. “Those that flit around without a thought in their head bore me, quite frankly. But women such as you…” A slow smile spread across his lips. “Yes, yes, I am more than glad the Betarrinis have finally arrived at court. And in time, we shall find out your ties to these other kin with their odd stories.”

I stared back at him, hoping I looked friendly, demure, unruffled, but feeling my heart pound all the while.

“No doubt you’d like to greet these kin,” he said, lowering his gaze, searching mine. “’Tis what brought you north at long last, is it not?”

“Actually, Serenissimo, we had already planned to come, so eager were we to visit your lovely Republic. These men…” I shook my head as if concerned… “Should they be telling the truth about their name and in their right minds…Well, let us say we are
interested
in comparing our lineage to see how we might be related.”

“Indeed,” he said. “I, too, am most eager to find out how these pieces of the puzzle fit together. I shall bring you together and observe.”

“Of course, your grace,” I said with another nod, as if I wasn’t thinking
we’re totally screwed
in my mind.

As if I had no problem with the idea of this dude listening in.

You know, having the most powerful man in the region listen to us chatter on about time travel and tombs and such...that would be all kinds of awesome.

As he led me back to the others, who all milled about, anxiously waiting on us, he had a little grin on his face. Like he knew he had me.
Awesome, just awesome,
I thought.

And at that moment, I wished I hadn’t pushed to come to Venice at all.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

~GABRIELLA~

 

So it was that we all moved into the Palazzo Ducale, the doge’s men hearing no arguments against it. Apparently, it had been some sort of odd royal decree or something, and men arrived behind us at Caterina’s place to pack all our things. As soon as we arrived at the palazzo, we were shown to beautiful guest quarters, and within the hour, all of our things arrived, too, from our gowns to our new puppies and kittens.

Luca came to see us and told us what had transpired, but Lia was being held elsewhere, ostensibly greeting the
dogaressa
. We thought it a means to unnerve us, to remind us who held the power over every inch of this city, and pretty far beyond it.

Dad was pacing. “He wants to know everything about us. He’s watching every move we make, every choice, every purchase, listening to every word we utter—together and apart—gathering the clues.”

Marcello flopped down into a chair. “So, what is there to discover? Truthfully? You’ve purchased spices and oils, animals to keep us company in the castello. There is nothing scandalous in all of that. You all know the story you shall stick to in regard to your history.”

Dad stared at me and Mom, switching to English. “I don’t like it. There’s something else transpiring here. And, of all the men that have the power to trip us up, this guy,” he said, waving about us to indicate the doge, “has it.” He rubbed his temples between his third finger and thumb, as if massaging away the pain. “I just thought we’d be near him, maybe meet him once. That he’d be so busy with everyone else at court, we’d be a passing interest, not the main event.”

“Parla il linguaggio commune, per favore,”
Marcello said, asking us to switch to Italian, more than a little irritated. Whenever we lapsed into English, he felt like we were trading secrets. Normally, it was just because we were scared or agitated.

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