“What a terrible thing to say,” Faraz said. “That your father married your mother only for her talent, and for producing an heir.”
Porzia shrugged. “There are worse reasons to take a wife.” There was a note of pride in her voice that Elsa didn’t quite understand.
“The truth is always preferable, even if it is an ugly truth,” Elsa said, aware she was parroting her mother only after the words had left her mouth.
Leo, who’d been fidgeting throughout the conversation, vacated the couch, ran up to the second-floor balcony, and climbed up on the narrow wrought-iron railing. He proceeded to walk along it, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, arms out for balance.
“Show-off,” Faraz harrumphed.
Porzia rolled her eyes. “If you fall and break your neck, I’m not cleaning it up. Casa? You have permission to dispose of Leo’s corpse in the nearest furnace.”
“Very good, signorina,” Casa serenely replied.
“And if you’re going to die anyway, I’m taking your seat,” Faraz said as he shifted over to the couch.
From his precarious perch atop the railing, Leo declared, “Have no fear! I’m a trained professional, raised in the finest circus in Vienna.”
Elsa looked at Faraz, who said, “That one’s definitely not true.”
“I don’t know what a circus is, in any case,” she replied.
This seemed to deflate Leo somewhat. “Well, that’s no fun. What is the point of inventing an outlandish background if it doesn’t even make sense?” He crouched down to grab the railing and swung off, then dropped the rest of the distance to the floor. He landed gracefully, as if he were quite accustomed to jumping off things. Given how they’d first met, Elsa supposed this impression must be accurate.
“Did you have something in mind you needed from the library?” Faraz said to her rather suddenly, as if the thought had only just occurred to him.
“Oh, yes.” Elsa felt the heat rise in her cheeks, embarrassed that she’d let herself get so thoroughly diverted from her task. “Well, nothing in particular, but I did fancy a look through the scriptology section.”
“I suppose that’s my area to assist with,” Porzia said, and rose from her chair as if she were performing a reluctant favor.
“No need for that,” Elsa said hastily. “If you could simply point me in the right direction…”
Too hastily, it seemed, since a spark of curiosity lit in Porzia’s eye. “It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to help you with … whatever it is you need.”
This time, Elsa succeeded in transferring the still-reluctant Skandar back to its perch on Faraz’s shoulder. She could feel Leo watching her as she followed Porzia up to the second-floor balcony and around to where the scriptological texts were shelved. She carefully ignored his gaze. Then it was Porzia prodding her for information while Elsa browsed through the titles, trying to think of a way to get the other girl to leave her alone with the books.
“Ooh!” Elsa exclaimed, taking a familiar volume from the shelf. “Wolker’s treatise on fundamental physical principles. And in the original German—perfect.” In truth, the book was dreadfully tedious, but she hoped it might discourage Porzia’s interest.
Porzia’s face fell. “Right, well, now you know where the books are. If you’re sure there’s nothing else you need help finding, I should get back to my own studies.”
Elsa took the unwanted volume down to a reading table and feigned interest in it for the next half hour, until Porzia finished with her own research and left the library. Then she could finally go back to the shelves and find the technical manuals she needed to finish scribing her lab book. She pulled down several volumes and hauled them all back to her room, intent upon completing her laboratory before the day was out.
*
Leo was trying hard not to think about Elsa. Even working on his amphibious walker—a difficult, ongoing project that should be sufficiently diverting—his mind kept wandering back to her. He couldn’t help but wonder what Elsa would think of these gear ratios, or wish there was a smaller pair of hands to help him tighten that bolt.
Of the twenty children in residence, most were too young to have settled on a discipline. Burak was the only other mechanist, and while he sometimes provided assistance, Leo wasn’t in the mood for the company of a thirteen-year-old. Not now that ward number twenty-one had arrived, and she was Leo’s age, and brilliant, and quite possibly loved machines.…
“She’s a secretive one, isn’t she?”
Leo banged his head on the chassis, surprised at the sound of Porzia’s voice. He crawled out from inside the enormous machine and rubbed the back of his skull. “What do you want?”
“Aha,” Porzia said, hopping up on a stool next to the workbench. “You didn’t say, ‘She? She, who?’ from which I infer you know I’m speaking of Elsa. And you agree she’s secretive.”
He grunted and squeezed past her to switch on the signal scrambler so Casa couldn’t overhear. “I’m not in the mood for games, Porzia.”
“You? Not in the mood for games? Someone find me a stone tablet, so we may engrave it to memorialize the day Leo didn’t fancy a game.”
“Maybe it’s just your presence I don’t fancy,” Leo retorted.
Porzia ignored the jibe. “She’s up to something—hiding in her rooms all day, scriptology books scattered everywhere, leaving only to visit the library. We’ve seen enough recent orphans walk through our doors to know this is not the usual behavior. Aren’t you the least bit suspicious?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps she simply enjoys her work.”
“She’s trouble, that one. I don’t know what kind of trouble yet, but I intend to find out.”
“Porzia … this is an orphanage for mad kids. We’re all trouble.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know something, don’t you? I can’t believe you found something out and you’re keeping it from me, you traitor!” She slapped him on the arm.
Leo gave her a withering look. “Why don’t you worry less about how she spends her time and more about fulfilling your duties as a hostess.”
Porzia arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’ve made a list of my failings in that regard?”
“You could at least see to it that she doesn’t starve herself. She hasn’t had a proper meal since her first night here.” Leo watched Porzia’s expression harden and knew he’d gone too far. She took pride in Casa, in the role she would inherit from her father. He should not have criticized her hosting, but the words had already left his mouth and it was too late to swallow them now.
Porzia pinned him with a frosty stare. “Very well, I’ll see to it that she’s at dinner,” she said, climbing off the stool. “And if you won’t assist, I’ll have to uncover the truth for myself. This is my family’s house, and I certainly don’t need your help protecting it.”
*