Starling (46 page)

dark wood, red and yellow paint, carved sculptures of angels and
winged horses covering the entire room. The walls were deep mahogany, with white marble moldings carved in swirling patterns. A
giant square mirror hung at the center of each wall, reflecting the
swirls and wings from across the room. The effect was dizzying. Cass
reached out for Flavia’s arm to steady herself.
Flavia was staring down at the floor in fascination. Cass tried to
ignore the replica of Bottacelli’s
Birth of Venus
that stretched beneath their feet, each of the painting’s tiny details laid out in colored
floor tiles. After seeing Falco’s painting of his patroness arranged
like Venus, but springing forth from a rose, Cass would never be able
to look at another Bottacelli image without cringing.
Serpahina started toward the group of guests who were dancing,
and Arabella announced that she was going to play her flute in one of
the sitting rooms. A small line of men followed her through the crowd
toward the back of the piano nobile.
“Shall we dance?” Flavia suggested. Her dark curls bounced as
she glided across the room.
Cass started to follow her but then stopped.
Joseph Dubois stood near a table laden with enormous pies and a
giant roasted bear, a gleaming baked apple tucked between its sharp
canines. Dubois accepted a slice of meat from a servant who was dutifully carving the bear to order, and then turned back to the woman
he was chatting with: Donna Domacetti. Cass’s insides twisted with
revulsion. It made her sick the way that all of Venetian nobility refused to see Dubois for what he was—a liar and a murderer. Even
Feliciana seemed to be back under his spell. How could his influence
make people so blind?
Shaking her head in disgust, Cass hurried to catch up with Flavia,
and both girls blended into the group of dancers. Cass followed the
lead of the man across from her, switching dance partners occasionally as she worked her way closer to Dubois. Just as she was about to
close in on him, another familiar faced floated into view.
Belladonna! Cass’s heart went still in her chest. She had known it
was possible the Florentine leader of the Order of the Eternal Rose
might be at this party, but the room blurred for a second as all the
horrors Cass had faced in Florence came rushing back: Hortensa’s
execution, the dog attack, waking up with her wrists bound to her
bed, Piero drugging her and stealing her blood. And the worst of all:
Belladonna bathing in the blood of an innocent Florentine girl whom
Piero had murdered in the name of the Order.
“Signorina, are you all right?” A man with dark hair and a feathered cap looked down at her curiously.
Cass realized she’d stopped dancing right in the middle of the
song, and the man had nearly collided with her. “Fine. Sorry,” she
murmured. Dropping her eyes to the ground, she took his hand,
moving once more to the music as she darted looks at Falco’s patroness. Belladonna carried her shimmering teal skirts over to where
Dubois and Donna Domacetti were talking.
Belladonna gestured at a doorway on the far side of the portego.
Dubois nodded but didn’t move. Donna Domacetti threw back her
head and cackled at a joke no one else seemed to find funny. Eventually the donna was pulled away by a woman wearing a ridiculously
large hat. Belladonna and Dubois turned away from the festivities.
Cass waited until they left the portego and then hurried off in the
same direction. She was grateful they hadn’t gone in the direction of