“How can you say such things?” He asks with a frown, sitting on the bed with one quick impulse. “Have you no heart, Letizia?”
I shake my head. “None whatsoever.”
“Impossible!” he says, baffled.
“Oh, it is very possible…” I add, sliding towards him under the sheets. “You see, my heart was lost the day I met you. And I am quite sure you’ve had it ever since.”
Samyaza’s lips stretch in a warming smile. The gleam of sunlight strikes his dark hair and illuminates his flawless skin… How can a demon inhabit such a beautiful vessel? Where is such a demon when all I have seen of him is honesty and the purest love towards me?
“You are indeed my treasure.” Samyaza looks to the window. “I… I have a gift for you,” he says with a bashful smile.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting next to him.
As he turns, Samyaza wraps one arm around my waist. He looks into my eyes with a mischievous glance. “This, I cannot tell you. You will have to see it… Come.”
I slip into my robe and follow him to the hearth. Samyaza stands before the fireplace, all the while gazing at the floor. Odd indeed. Is he looking for something? Has he regretted his offer to me?
Samyaza points with his finger, following the tiled floor’s patterns. He gives a couple of steps to the left and stands before an ancient tapestry with unicorns weaved in golden thread.
In silence, I observe with detainment as his hand slips beneath the tapestry and pulls it to one side. A narrow passageway is revealed. Samyaza takes a candelabrum and moves inside. And although the vision of this secret tunnel is not a welcoming one, I follow him. As long as I am with him, no harm can come to me. Samyaza would never hurt me. He would never wish to cause me pain. I would lay my life in his hands, so blindly I trust him.
Moving further in the passageway, Samyaza removes a few cobwebs from the path. The end of the tunnel is near. A few more steps, and a door stands before us. Unlike the butterflies’ sanctuary, no carvings or embellishments frame this door. It’s a modest door—ancient, crooked, and forlorn for many years.
When Samyaza pulls the lever, the wood creaks and a curtain of dust descends on the threshold. He looks over his shoulder, a tantalizing smile draws on his lips.
“You go first, milady,” he teases, signaling the way with a gentle tilt of the candelabrum in his hand.
I cannot help being amused by his secretive game.
“Very well, then.” Pressing my hand on his shoulder, I move past him, His free hand holds mine to keep me grounded. I lower my head enough to fit through the small door.
Samyaza moves quickly behind me. He takes a candle from the candelabrum and moves about the darkened room lighting old candles, finding them with no trouble by pure memory.
Amber light spreads quickly and licks the walls in pulsing waves. Now I can see them. Dozens of ancient chests line the room. The chests are mostly large pieces, a few of them seem quite ordinary.
As Samyaza leisurely strolls past them, he opens one by one with a flick of his wrist. Another gleam fills the room... Gold. Not only florins fill the chests to the brim, but bracelets, necklaces, and dazzling crowns embedded with exquisite precious gems. The riches in this room surely surpass the fortune my family ever owned.
“This is a wondrous sight, indeed.” I pause. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
Samyaza slowly shakes his head. He sets the candelabrum over a long center table, now opening piles of boxes laid out on its surface.
“Here you are…” he muses, taking a red reticule in his hands as if it were more precious than any of the riches in this room.
“What is it?” I have to ask.
“This is another of my treasures,” he says, turning towards me. “I can think of no one better suited for it other than you.”
He slips the bag into my hands, and as I pull the strings my heart races with anticipation. And when I pour the contents into my hand, I am left utterly and blatantly… disappointed.
“Do you like it?” he says, hopeful.
“It’s… very pretty.” I hold the ring against the light, a spectral gleam shines within its red stone.
Samyaza stands behind me, his hands glide on my waist, and his chin leans over my shoulder. “You like rubies…” he whispers in my ear with a sultry voice that sends a tingling wave down my arms.
He takes the ring and slips it on my finger, and it fits neither loosely nor tightly. The ring fits my finger as though it had always been meant to be mine.
I draw my hand to eye level and study the piece of jewelry. The stone is large and the setting is exquisite gold filigree. Mysterious symbols are engraved on the band, perhaps merely ornamental.
“Do not be disappointed, tesoro mio,” Samyaza whispers, still behind me. “There is more to this ring than what the mortal eye can see.”
“Oh…” I utter, raising my brow. “What more is there to it?”
“This ring has a special quality,” smoothing his fingers over mine. “If ever you wish to see me, you need only whisper my name into its stone.”
“And you will come to me?” I ask, unsure whether this is a game of his.
“Mm…” He nods.
“Is this magic?” I say, turning the ring around my finger.
Samyaza chokes a laugh. “You must forgive me, my love.” He purses his lips. “Mortals call magic all that reaches far beyond their understanding… Their innocence is quite endearing.”
“I suppose I amuse you then…” I mutter. Was he mocking me?
“Then let us call it magic and end this quarrel before it ever begins.” His lips curl in a charming smile. “And now I must ask something from you,” he adds, all trace of amusement is gone.
“You may ask anything.” I bite my lower lip. “Whether I will please you or not is entirely a different subject.” Teasing him has become my latest interest.
“Promise me to wear this ring at all times,” he says with the gravest tone. “Will you do that for me?”
My playful demeanor vanishes swiftly. “If it means that much to you, then I will do what you ask,” I reply, holding his hand.
He takes a deep breath and for a second he seems relieved.
“Samyaza,” I say, tightening my grip. “Your secrets are safe with me. There is nothing in this world you cannot tell me.”
A faint smile looms on his lips. “I have lived for so long, dearest Letizia…” He sighs. “I’m afraid there are too many.”
His arms meet me in a warm embrace. Samyaza buries his face in my shoulder. His smooth lips press against my neck and work their way up until they meet my lips in one searing kiss.
How can I go back to life as ordinary when I have discovered such bliss within my reach? A patron, a duke, a demon… I do not care what he is. My heart beats with more meaning since the moment our eyes met for the first time. I will hold on to this happiness with all my strength, no matter the consequences.
I want him to say the words that will lead to my ruin, the words that will make me stay with him regardless of the stain to my character and reputation—or whatever remains of it. Stay with me, Letizia. Stay in this palazzo forever and forget the world beyond these walls… But he remains silent.
Samyaza’s hand smooths over my cheek as he parts from my lips. His gentle green eyes fix on mine for a second before he steps back.
“You will learn all my secrets, by and by.”
We step off the gondola when the marangona chimes the late hour. I cannot help pursing my lips as the accursed bell also marks the end of my time with Samyaza.
No words have been said between us ever since we left Palazzo Contarini. The way back home we trudge in silence, our minds whirling with dark thoughts of our own.
“I cannot pretend…” he finally speaks in the lowest of voices. “These past few days in your company have been—”
“What is that?” I bluntly say, narrowing my eyes. But gaining more focus is not enough to make me understand th
e reason for such movement outside my home.
“Letizia,” he adds, heaving a heavy sigh. Samyaza is so lost within his inner turmoil that he does not become aware of our surroundings.
And although my name on his lips stirs fire in my blood, I cannot ignore what lies before me. Men walk in and out of my house—one carries a chair, another a table. Another man crosses the doorway carrying a rolled rug over his shoulder!
“What is happening?” Furrowing my brow, I pick up my skirt and rush to the door.
“Take the tables. And those chairs by the fireplace…” The familiar voice comes from one of the parlors.
Impossible. How dare he do such a thing?
“What is this?” Pulling the door wider, I face him. “Mattia, what are you doing?”
Mattia fans a dozen handwritten papers before my eyes. “I am calling a debt, my dear Letizia. The furniture will do for the month, but there are several payments missing in these notes…” he says, furrowing his brow.
“That is Signor Baresi’s business, not yours!” Anger brews in the pit of my stomach.
“You are wrong, my dear.” He sneers. “It is entirely my business from this day onward. You see, I have acquired your debt from Signor Baresi himself, and as a result, you are now indebted to me.”
Mattia shrugs his shoulders and addresses his workmen. “Careful with that! It might actually be worth something…”
How he relishes in his display of power.
“What are you saying?” I muse, confused. “Why would you do that?” But Mattia appears not to listen.
“I am afraid these affairs are dealt with in such a way, my dear Letizia. There is nothing I can do…” A feigned sigh of grievance. “You and your brother must cover this debt in its entirety; otherwise, eviction is inevitable.”
He turns his back on me. Mattia dares to treat me as he would his own servants. The blood in my veins is liquid fire that spreads to my every limb.
“Mattia, you cannot do this!” I move around and stand before him. “We cannot afford it! We barely survive day by day as it is!” How I hate hearing myself say those words, but this injustice I hate even more.
Mattia remains indifferent to my pleas. He moves past me as if I were a ghost, and heads to the doorway where Samyaza now stands.
“I demand that you answer me, sir!” I insist, baffled and infuriated at the same time—if such a thing is possible.
At last, he turns. “I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes,” he says, slipping on his hat. “There was a time when you could have had it all, Letizia.” He shakes his head. “There was nothing in the world I would not have done to please you… But that is in the past. I can do nothing for you now.”
“Is this man bothering you?” Samyaza steps inside. He exceeds Mattia’s height by nine or ten inches as he stands behind that monster.
“He has threatened to take away what little my brother and I have left of our family’s legacy…” I sigh. “But even now, it’s not our own.”
“Usurers are most detestable beings,” Samyaza says, studying Mattia from hat to shoes. “A special place is reserved for them in the Underworld.”
“Why, sir!” Mattia turns, flabbergasted. “I am deeply offended by—”
“Have you concluded your affairs, signore?” Samyaza adds, narrowing his eyes to better observe his countenance. “I believe we have met before, have we not?”
Mattia sneers. “I would never lower myself to the—”
“At Contessa di Viscardi’s… Yes, I have seen you there on more than one occasion.” Samyaza’s nods as if finally unveiling a great mystery.
“Dio mio!” Mattia says. “You are Duke Contarini.” His eyes widen. Now he bows. “I regret meeting you here and under such dire circumstances…”
“Surely so, since such dire circumstances have been procured by your own hand, signore,” Samyaza muses, sweeping the room with a quick glance, noticing the empty spots where tables and chairs once stood.
“Take my advice, Your Grace. Be careful with this woman. You are wasting your time with her… I bid you goodbye.” He bows. “You have until the end of the month, Letizia.” Mattia grips firmly his cane as he moves through the doorway.
“May his shadow never more darken my door…” I mutter, clenching my fists. “Insufferable man! He will stop at nothing to see us destitute!”
“This is grave, indeed,” Samyaza muses, furrowing his brow. “I am sure you must rely these matters to your brother as soon as possible… I will leave you.” A quick bow and he removes himself from this dreadful scenery. Indeed, he’s too much of a gentleman to discuss the details of my family’s infamous misfortune.
I am on the brink of destitution. Samyaza will not want me now—not after listening to Mattia’s pernicious words. Mattia’s opinion of me must be the vilest for ever daring to refuse him. Oh, and how determined he is to make me suffer for it! But although it strains my heart, what pains me more is contemplating the possibility of losing Samyaza forever.
“We are ruined,” I muse, biting my thumb’s fingernail as I pace in the parlor. “Something must be done, surely there is a way to avoid destitution…”
“What happened here?” Fabrizio walks in through the kitchen’s door. He carries a heavy burden over his shoulder, a sack full of flour I presume by the white powder trail behind him.
He slips off the sack and sets it in the kitchen’s corner.
“Where is the table? And the chairs?” he asks, sweeping the room with a quick look.
I bite my lower lip, my mind whirling with endless possibilities, searching for a feasible solution to this rotten conundrum.
“I can only assume our furniture now lines the halls of Ca’ di Moretti…” I muse.
“What nonsense is that, Letizia?” he asks, taking both hands to his waist. “Why would Mattia be in possession of our furniture?”
“Because, dear brother…” I say, heaving a heavy sigh. “Mattia has bought our debt from Baresi, and we are now indebted to him.”
“Impossible! That wretched man!” Fabrizio slams his hand on the wall. “How dare he do this to us? Were his father alive…!”
“But he is dead,” I add, finalizing the matter. “What can we do, Fabrizio? Surely Mattia cannot simply take everything we own!”
“He can, dearest…” Uncertainty gleams in my brother’s eyes. “I will speak to Mattia… tomorrow. I am sure we can reach an understanding.” Fabrizio purses his lips. “We must.”
“No, you must not do that! Don’t you see? That is exactly what he wants…” For the first time in my life, I beg. And why would I not? A beggar—that has become my new role in life thanks to that villain. “He will humiliate you!”
“What else is there left for me to do?” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust we still have a bed to lie in?” diving his fingers through his ashen blonde hair.
I nod.
“Then go to sleep, Letizia.” He smooths his hand on my cheek. “Give no more thoughts to these sordid matters… I will take care of everything.”
With no words to speak that would not betray my present frame of mind, I head to the staircase. And as I climb the first steps, my heart flutters when I consider that Mattia would never show us the slightest leniency.
When I lie in bed, the question echoes in my mind… Can a wounded man be moved by anything other than his own interests?
“I must find a way out on my own,” I muse, and leaning towards the night table, I blow out the candle.
I vowed to myself never to set a foot in this woman’s domain, yet here I am.
The house is the epitome of grandeur, with marble floors and gilded ceilings; exquisite frescoes line the walls of the corridor that leads me to an imposing oak door. The servant pulls the heavy lever, amber light beams through the crevice that widens as I stand beneath the carved marble lintel.
As the scenery of rich fabrics and exquisite crystal ornaments is revealed, my eyes widen and fill with wonder.
“Letiz
ia, cara!” Contessa di Viscardi rises from the bench near the hearth. With a graceful movement, her hand lifts the wine glass off the table, and immersed in this dance, she heads to greet me at the doorway. “You came. I am so pleased to have you here… Welcome to my humble abode.”
Humble abode? The words do no justice to the palazzo’s luxury.
“Were you persuaded to come, my dear?” she asks, offering me the drink.
I smile. With the Scuola’s theatre still closed, and Mattia Moretti’s threat to take the roof off our heads, Contessa di Viscardi’s invitation suits me more than ever—that’s what I call persuasion of the finest quality.
“Come this way, dearest Letizia.” Bella holds my hand with the warmth of a loving friend. But is she a true friend of mine? She had offered me unsolicited advice once before, and still, I cannot decipher what she hoped to gain from it… But my doubts fade quickly. It was Bella’s advice that opened me the doors to Samyaza’s immortal heart.
His words resound in my mind as if he were indeed in this very room: They are demons like me, set loose in the world to fulfill the dreams of Men. Bella is one of them. Her powdered face and rouge-tinged lips are no more than a facade—but is there really more to them than their ethereal beauty? I have yet to see the monster hidden underneath the mortal guise. And I cannot help but wonder, is evil’s true nature as hideous as I was taught during my childhood?
“Everyone’s eager to meet you…” Bella opens the parlor’s double doors.
The view is such that can only be described as a dream.
Gilded furniture lines the room as the frame to a precious canvas. Lace and velvet, brocade and the finest leather… The finest perfumes linger in the air, soft scents that entwine with the faintest hint of sandal spread about the room.
Trays of fruit fill a large table at the southern wall, footmen fill empty glasses to the brim with the most exclusive wines. Without a doubt, the luxury of Villa di Viscardi outshines that of Palazzo Contarini.
The Devil's Song Page 10
