Silvana asked Felise, “What made you ask such a question, anyway?”
“Ada is always griping about how she doesn’t want to get married and how awful men are. But every woman has to get married, so I tried today to think of a way she could be happy. I decided that she should marry you instead. You’re nice and clever, so she would like your company, and you’re pretty despite your mannish hair and clothes, so she’d probably want to kiss you—”
“Lise!” Adelina slapped Felise’s arm. “You’ll get me into trouble! And don’t call her mannish, she hates that.”
“Sorry.” Felise scrunched her little face. “You should try asking Father anyway. I never thought he would let me keep Mona, but he did.” She closed her eyes and held the puppy close to her chest. Within seconds, she seemed to have fallen asleep again.
Adelina and Silvana moved to the table, where the conversation was still ongoing. Father paused midspeech and patted the bench beside him. “Ada, come give me your version of events! By Irena’s account, you played tricks all through lunch, teasing her about changelings…”
“All true.” Adelina took her designated place, and Silvana sat opposite, crossing her legs beneath the table. “But you were the one who told me about changelings in the first place, remember?”
“That’s right, that’s right. I wanted to scare you, yet you only sniffed at me and said, ‘Father, that’s a made-up story. If you believe it yourself, you’re a fool.’”
“But surely elves are real,” said Irena. “Mother says they’ll take me off to the Devil if I misbehave.”
“Don’t be a dolt,” said Adelina. “If that were true, the elves would have dragged me away a long time ago.”
“Oh, I was joking!” Irena scowled. “You think I’m so stupid.”
Father patted Irena’s shoulder. “Now, now, you know Ada is just teasing. And Ada, you should know better than to call your sister a dolt, especially in front of our guests.”
Adelina struggled not to pout. “Sorry, Father.”
“Good girl. Now, as Orfeo might have mentioned, we’re having dinner here this evening. He sent a messenger off to inform your mother, who’ll not be joining us, as she believes Orfeo to be…what was it? ‘A capricious manifestation of sin.’”
“That sounds about right,” said Adelina. “You’re lucky he didn’t come courting for you, Irena.”
Irena scrunched her nose. “Don’t even joke about it.”
“As it happens, I was rather disappointed he didn’t,” Father said. “I’d have given him due consideration. He owns more land than anyone in town, he’s quite wealthy and there are many business ventures we could work together on. If he were in the family, I’d have some reassurance he wouldn’t cheat me. But what’s all that compared to a title, eh?”
The door flew open, and Orfeo lumbered in. “The horses were well stabled,” he said, his voice echoing in the open space. “No complaints! I’ve fed them and cooled their flanks, and they thanked you for accompanying them on such a pleasant day.” He rubbed his hands together as he headed toward the cider casks. “And to celebrate, I’m going to down two mugs.”
“When might we expect dinner?” said Father. “My travelers are weary and unfed.”
“It’s being cooked as we speak, dear Bastian. It’ll be ready in an hour or so, just as the sun is going down. I like to eat at sunset, it’s my way.” Orfeo nodded to Silvana. “Mistress Silvana, let me show you something an expert like you might find amusing and which our other guests can marvel at.”
Silvana’s eyes narrowed. “And what might that be?”
Orfeo walked to the hearth. As he approached Felise, she withdrew into the corner, the puppy still in her arms. “Ah, poor little one, I must seem a giant to you.” Orfeo reached above the mantelpiece and took down a long, slender sword with an intricate silver hilt. “My lady Silvana, come hold this. Feel the balance.”
Silvana joined Orfeo at the fireplace. He passed her the sword, and she weighed it. Sunlight lined the blade’s edge and glinted at its tip. “Not bad.” She flicked her wrist and the sword swished through the air. “Whoever made this weighted it well.”
“They should have. It’s only the product of the finest swordsmith in the world, to my knowledge. A keen edge and a lethal point, and the hilt is exquisite, isn’t it?”
“I’ll grant it’s an intricate design, but that hardly matters.” Silvana performed several quick strikes, and the sword blurred in front of her. Adelina trembled, both afraid of the sword and thrilled to see a woman handle one with such confident grace.
Orfeo’s face split into a gloating grin. “I’ve never lost with this sword. Never.”
“I thought you’d never lost with anything. Save in your learning days, of course.”
“That was an exaggeration. Now we’re old friends, I can be honest with you.” As Silvana tested the sword, Orfeo followed every movement with his eyes, as if he were evaluating her skill. “Still think your small sword can outmatch a weapon of this calibre?”
“If I’m wielding it, of course it can.” Silvana returned the sword to Orfeo, who hung it again on his mantel. “And I still maintain it’s the superior weapon, even if it’s not so honed.”
Father ran his fingers through his beard. “You have a very militaristic sister,” he said, glancing at Rafael.
Rafael shook his head. “Hardly. Silvie enjoys the motions of swordfighting, but she dislikes having to stab anyone.”
Orfeo cleared his throat. “Well, I’m a little bit impressed. I thought you were all bluster, but you have form. Who taught you?”
“My mother.” Silvana smirked. “Oh, the look of disbelief on your face! I wish I could frame it.”
“Your mother? Are you joking with me, my lady Silvana?”
“My parents both, as it happens.” Silvana’s expression became somber. “When I was nine, a man tried to assault me in the woods. I escaped him, but I knew that I’d only been lucky. So I asked my parents to teach me how to defend myself. They obliged. The next time a man tried to lay a hand on me, several years later, it cost him his eye.”
Irena blanched, and Adelina’s stomach turned. “Well, well,” said Orfeo, tapping at the leather of his belt. “Have you ever killed?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you can at least say yes or no.”
“I said I won’t talk about it.” Silvana exhaled a long, melancholy sigh. “I’m going for a walk. When dinner is ready, send Rafael to look for me. He’ll know where I am.” She stalked across the floorboards and pushed open the door. Before she stepped out of sight, she glanced back at Adelina and frowned.
“A remarkable woman.” Orfeo remained at his position by the hearth. “Is she your elder or your younger sister, Baron?”
“Elder by a year.” Rafael’s eyes were uncharacteristically cold. “I don’t know why you insist on provoking her. You’re toying with a lioness.”
“So she has killed then?”
“Do me one gesture of kindness, Orfeo. Never pose that question to my sister again, or I’ll draw a sword on you myself, inept though I am.”
Father hastily stood and patted Rafael on both shoulders. “My dear Rafael, it seems offence has been given where I’m sure none was intended. Shall we down some cider and put this behind us?”
“Of course!” Orfeo raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize abjectly, Lord Rafael. We’ll have cider now and dinner shortly, and all will be forgiven, yes?”
Rafael made no response, but only lowered his head and stared at a knothole in the table. As he sat in silence, clouds moved beyond the windows, and a mote of sunlight fell upon his shoulders. The golden lines spiraled upon his cheek lit into radiance, and his eyes shimmered, as if they held unshed tears.
Chapter Twenty
Silvana pressed her cheek to the bark and closed her eyes to the sound of murmuring leaves. Evening had driven away the day’s heat, and the crickets had commenced their chi
rping lullaby. She traced the gnarled wood with her fingertips while inhaling the tree’s thick aroma, a mingling of rich sap and something else, deep and unplaceable.
Feet crushed the leaves below, and she looked down. Rafael smiled up at her through the intersecting branches. “Dinner’s ready. Don’t make me come up there and carry you down.”
“I can’t do this, Rafael.” Silvana repositioned herself among the branches so that she lay across two great limbs, looking down at her brother. “I can’t lie to her.”
“I knew we’d have this talk, from the moment I saw Ada returning with her hair disheveled and adorned with twigs. I hope you were gentle with her.”
“It was little more than a passionate caress.”
Rafael sat at the base of the trunk and stretched his legs. “Perhaps for you. She’s an inexperienced young woman.”
“Which is why I showed moderation.”
“Moderation?” Rafael laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. “You consider going to a secluded forest and taking my future sister-in-law’s virginity to be temperate behavior?”
“I felt as if I had no other choice. My guilt at our treachery left me without recourse to words. I love her, Rafael.”
“You’ve known her for three days. Don’t get so sentimental.”
Silvana sighed, and she let her arm dangle from the branch. “If love is what the poets say, the recognition of one like soul to another, then why should time matter?”
“Nothing is like what the poets say. The poets would have you believe that a woman’s lips taste like honey, when in truth they taste of nothing much at all.”
“But she adores me. Nobody has ever looked at me with so much yearning.”
“So you like her because she magnifies your self-esteem?”
Silvana crushed a leaf in her hand. “No. Because I’ve given her life hope and meaning, and in turn she’s granted me the same. How could I possibly explain this to you? You think of love in terms of dowries, children and lusts. My longing is otherwise. I’m a lonely woman who wants not the passion of the tavern but the eternal clasp of another soul’s companionship.”
“She’s practically a child. You saw how she taunted Irena.”
“I saw a sharp mind not given the freedom to cut as it wills. She and I could walk forever beneath the canopies, night wanderers swathed in starlight, lovers locked until time’s cessation…”
“I wish you could.” Rafael disturbed the dirt beside him with his finger. “But it would cost me Irena. I think she would forgive me, Silvie, forgive me all these deceits. She would be a loving mother, a gentle wife. I think I may…” His quiet voice faltered.
“You were going to say you love her, weren’t you? But you’d realize you’d sound like a fool, having just lectured me that my love was a mere infatuation.”
Rafael tossed a stick and watched it fall. “What do we do then? Tell our women the truth and watch our plans unravel?”
“These are your plans, not mine. You’re the one who wants to rebuild the damn estate.” Silvana sat upright, her legs hanging over the limb. “What I need is her forgiveness. So long as I have that, I may even survive losing her love.”
“And my happiness? My future? Does that feature in your thinking?”
“I could say the same to you. One of us must sacrifice all for the sake of the other, or else there’s no way out of this impasse.”
Rafael sighed. “I was thinking of both of us when I devised this idea. We’re going to run out of money any day now. Home is all either of us have left.”
“I don’t have a home without her.”
“God.” Rafael stood and glared upward. “You’re gorging yourself on tragic emotion. I need you to keep your composure, Silvana.”
Silvana dropped her body two branches, caught another branch and swung herself to the ground. She stood before Rafael and stared into his drawn features. “Tell me. What will you do when Sebastian and Delfina offer you Irena’s hand?”
Rafael averted his eyes. “I’ll return to the manor with the dowry in hand and Irena in tow. And then I’ll have to prevent contact with her family, so that she can’t write…” He clenched his fists. “Yes, it sounds monstrous. But what else can I do?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“And then it’s over!”
“So we’ll find money somewhere else.”
“But I don’t care about the money any longer. The way she spoke to me today, the gentleness expressed in her voice and eyes…Silvie, I look at her and see the mother to my children. I can give her almost everything she wants, and in time I’ll give her wealth too. Just not right away.”
“In short, we’re both too stubborn to save ourselves, and so we will continue toward mutual destruction.”
“At least I couldn’t wish for better company.” Rafael took Silvana’s hand. “They’ll be wondering why we aren’t at dinner.”
“Then we’d best return.”
The great hall was lively with the sound of conversation and dining. Irena and Adelina sat flanking Felise. The three giggled and prodded each other, apparently holding some amusing private conference. On the opposite side of the table, Sebastian and Orfeo held a discussion broken by frequent gales of laughter. The conversations broke as Silvana took her first step into the room.
Orfeo raised his enormous hand in welcome. “Your meal is cooling, my lady Silvana!”
“Good. I like nothing less than to burn my tongue.” Silvana and Rafael joined the table. Silvana nodded at Irena, who sat opposite, and received an oddly timid smile in return.
The meal was some combination of stewed vegetables and indeterminate meat. It was well-spiced and well-cooked, but a little too rich, and after only the second spoonful Silvana reached for a mug of cider to cleanse her palate. She turned to Felise, who was giggling at some joke Adelina was telling her. Perhaps the child’s innocence might similarly cleanse some of the heaviness from her heart. “Where’s Mona now, Felise?”
Felise brightened further. “She’s sleeping on my foot. I wanted to feed her scraps, but Father said no.”
“Have you ever drawn people, or only animals?”
“I want to, but it never comes out right. It never looks like the same person.”
“It’s true,” said Adelina, a spoon hovering by her lips. “She tried to draw Irena once, and it came out looking like an ogre.”
Irena pouted. “And then you told her that it was a perfect image of me.”
“I remember!” Felise clapped her hands. “I wish I still had the picture. It was horrible. When I showed Father he laughed until he turned purple.”
“I didn’t think it was so funny at the time.” Irena stroked Felise’s hair. “But it just seems silly now.”
“Well, they say time heals,” said Adelina, and she slurped the food from her spoon. “I suppose that’s why.”
“Time doesn’t heal.” Silvana stared into the glistening broth in front of her. “It merely buries. And sometimes things buried work to the surface, just as a splinter might.”
Adelina’s blue eyes softened. “And then you can pluck it out, surely.” She scooped up another spoonful of food and blew on it. “Do you have something buried?”
“Me?” Silvana twisted her lips into an angled smile. “My soul is a graveyard, Ada.”
“What is that you want most? What do you long for?”
“That which we all long for. To be loved.”
“Is Ada your fir—” Irena stopped midspeech, and her cheeks turned pink. “I mean, have you ever been in love before?”
So Irena knew. Silvana gazed into her eyes. There was no shadow of hostility in those twin pools, only the clarity of gratitude and the warmth of affection. I’ve always wanted a big sister. Silvana had assumed Irena—Ira—was referring to her coming status as sister-in-law. Now the words took on a deeper meaning, a significance that set Silvana’s chest aching. “I’ve been in love, yes.”
“But it didn’t last?”
/> “It wasn’t returned. Not the way I hoped it would be. To love me truly, one would have to give up a great many things. Friendships, reputations, hopes for a family. Nobody has ever been willing to abdicate their lives to join their hearts with mine.”
“Why?” said Felise.
“Hush.” Irena tugged on Felise’s ear, and she yelped. “It’s an adult conversation, Lise. Finish your meal.”
Silvana glanced sidelong at the three men beside her. It was a good thing Orfeo spoke so intently and at such volume, and that whatever he was saying seemed of such great interest to Sebastian. Rafael, however, looked back at her with a solemnity that suggested he’d been listening to her.
“I can’t understand how anyone could refuse the chance to be with you,” said Adelina. “Even if it meant giving up everything.”
“I do understand, though,” said Irena, her tone gentle. “I’ve cried often at the thought of marrying because I know it means leaving you and Lise behind. To sacrifice one love for another, it’s the hardest thing of all.”
Silvana looked away. The ache in her chest had intensified into a pain, sharp enough to tighten her breath and prickle her eyes with tears. There was no hell hot enough for her and Rafael, no death too slow, no punishment too cruel. To think they would take Irena from her beloved family to some disheveled, half-collapsed country home surrounded by tangled woods and rotted soil, and then deny her even the opportunity to write a letter home, for fear of her parents exacting their wrath…
“Silvana?” said Adelina. “You seem perturbed by something.”
“By the truth in Ira’s words, that’s all.” Silvana tried to hold Adelina’s gaze, but guilt forced her to once more avert her eyes.
“Mona is going to sleep on my bed tonight,” said Felise. “She’ll curl up beside me.”
“What if she fouls your sheets?” said Adelina. “You’d have to clean it yourself.”
“She won’t. She’ll be good. But if she does, I’ll shout at her and she won’t do it again.”
Fruit of the Golden Vine Page 17
