Heart of Glass

49





I stand in the center of St. Mark’s Cathedral. The domed roof with its tiny windows casts a buttery light over the people below, reflected off the gold leaf.

Roberto stands beside me, looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him, even with a bandage still tied around his right hand. I wear a dress of green velvet, stamped with gold. My hair cascades over my shoulders, and my head is crowned with a woven circle of flowers that Faustina picked from our gardens this morning. I wear a shawl to hide the last of my bruises, but in a day or so no one will ever be able to tell that I was once on a ship bound for Constantinople, fighting for my life.

My husband gazes down into my face. “I love you,” he says gently, bringing a hand round to stroke my cheek. I bend my head to meet his touch, and grab his hand to bring his fingers to my lips, kissing them.

I am a married woman now. Roberto and I have said our final vows before the priest and we turn, hand in hand, to our guests. Smiling faces are everywhere, and beyond the open doors at the rear of the cathedral there are more people, spilling out onto the streets. Even with its high ceilings, the cathedral is warm with the press of bodies. Everyone in Venice has gathered to celebrate the marriage of a man once spurned by the city and a woman almost lost at sea.

The Doge and the Duchess Besina sit in the front row, beside my father. The Doge, imperious in his robes of office, nods his head, and the Duchess beams with delight. Once, she thought she’d lost both sons. Now, Roberto is returned to her. Not only that, but he has helped save Venice.

Roberto leads me down the main nave of the cathedral, towards the sunlight that pours through the open doors. As we pass, people get to their feet, applauding. Young children give chase, scattering flower petals for us to walk through. The Basilica becomes heavy with the scent of roses.

There’s only one person missing—Paulina. She has disappeared from her mother’s house, and there has been no word of her through any of the Segreta’s contacts. I wonder if our friendship could ever have been repaired, after a betrayal such as hers.

I squeeze Roberto’s hand, and try to push the thoughts away. I cast a glance upwards, but no one lurks in the galleries today. There’s been no sign of Carina either, and a warrant issued across the city means there’s nowhere she can hide. Has she taken Paulina with her, I wonder, abandoning Venice for good? Will I ever see her again? I hope not, for, in her case, I know forgiveness would be impossible.

It takes a friendly face to banish Carina from my mind. Aysim steps forward from the crowd. She dips in a low curtsy, her hair braided and arranged in the latest Venetian fashion. It’s almost as if she grew up here.

“May your marriage be a long and happy one,” she says in French, her eyes brimming with happiness.

“Thank you,” I respond in the same tongue. “May you too find such happiness.”

As Roberto and I pass the last of the Grand Councilors and emerge into the sunlight, the waiting crowd of spectators outside erupts in applause. Scanning the celebrants, I spot various faces that I recognize but cannot acknowledge. These women of the Segreta stand with their husbands, or with their children or parents, or even alone—widows and spinsters of the city. No outsider could guess the invisible web that binds us, the threads of which stretch all over Venice. Teresa’s secret was just one tiny tug on the web. When I introduced her to our number, I could never have guessed how crucial her secret would prove.

We have survived them—Vincenzo, Halim and Carina—although we have lost the most powerful of our number. Allegreza’s death is the only cloud in the clear sky today. Thank you, I tell the women silently.

Other women in the crowd aren’t as restrained. I spot Bella Donna and her friends, being held back by guards. Their dresses are outrageously gaudy, as are their wigs and the bright spots of rouge on their cheeks. Their yellow scarves flutter in the wind. I wave to them.

“Laura!” A young girl presses forward from the crowd, reaching past a guard’s staff.

“Oh, let her out, let her out!” I gasp, rushing towards her. The guard reluctantly lets my old friend through, and Annalena falls into my arms. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

She’s even prettier without her cowl, and it’s a delight to see her slim waist and the curve of her shoulders for the first time, liberated from the shapeless convent robes.

“A mysterious benefactor purchased my freedom,” she says, arching her eyebrows at me. “I wonder who that could have been?”

I smile at Roberto as he arrives by our side.

“I’ve heard much about you,” he says. He takes Annalena’s hand and kisses it, making her cheeks blush furiously. I wonder if those are the first lips she’s ever felt.

“Come and see me at the palace,” I say, hugging my friend. “I’m sure we can find work worthy of a former conversa. A lady-in-waiting, perhaps?”

Annalena gasps with delight, but Roberto is already gently steering me away. There are so many people to see and thank.

“Thank you!” she calls after me, and I smile to myself. I know what it is to have one’s first taste of freedom.

Roberto and I arrive in the center of the square. The palace looms before us, and up above it, the Piombi. Despite the sunshine and the happiness of the day, I shudder. Somewhere, up there, in the heat and stench, Massimo languishes. His trial is to take place in a month’s time. A whole month of enduring those cells beneath the leaded roof. He won’t be exiled like Vincenzo; his fate will be far worse. I take no joy in his suffering.

The crowd presses around us, cheering and throwing more flower petals over our heads. My eyes linger on Roberto’s face as I press my body close to his.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Never more so,” I say. I wish that I could stay in this moment forever, all our troubles behind us and who knows what joy in the future.

I look around me. At the palace, the canals and their gondolas, the people in their ornate outfits and the shifting colors of Venice’s buildings.

The city I love is safe. The man I adore is by my side.

The Segreta remains. There will be other trials to face. But when Venice calls, we will be ready, of that I am sure.

All we need is a secret.