I go over to the other set of double doors. They don’t have a window, so I carefully, carefully push them open. I see nothing but a staircase that descends steeply into blackness.
I hate the look of it. And I’m pretty sure it’s where we need to go.
I turn back to the parlor and stop short just shy of the doorway.
Ale is no longer alone. He’s hovering by the coffee table in the center of the room, looking moments away from death. Standing a few feet away is Verene’s brother. I recall her addressing him as Theo.
I move forward, already working on my excuse for being in his dining room, but then I catch what Ale’s saying.
“They’re in her bedroom.” His voice is whispery.
I hide against the wall, peering out.
“And you’re not with them because…?” Theo says.
I realize the trunk is no longer at Ale’s side and have a brief, overwhelming moment of panic. Then I spot it on the far side of the parlor. Ale slid it behind one of the love seats. At least he managed that much.
“I…” Ale says.
Seeing Ale with another boy is a rare sight, and I’m not sure if I find it sad or funny. Theo has a perfect posture and haughty cheekbones, all severity and aristocratic disdain. Ale is from the wealthiest house in Occhia. He should be very good at looking superior. Alas, he looks like the sort of person who has absolutely no idea what to do without something to hide behind.
“I’m just waiting out here,” Ale says.
“What are they doing?” Theo says.
“Girl things,” Ale says.
Theo is silent for a long moment. Somewhere, I can hear a clock ticking.
“Are you going to elaborate on that?” he says finally.
“They were just… they wanted privacy?” Ale says.
They stare at each other. I can see how desperately Ale is trying to not lose his nerve. Theo starts to turn toward the bedroom hall.
“Can I see your study?” Ale blurts out.
More silence. It’s physically painful for me to endure.
“Why?” Theo says.
“It sounds interesting,” Ale whispers.
“You’re… interested in how I designed the fountain system?” Theo says.
“Yes,” Ale says.
“It’s not magic.” Theo says it like he fully expects Ale to change his mind.
“I know,” Ale says. “I just… your sister mentioned—I just was curious about it.”
Theo hesitates. I start to reach for the sewing scissors in my pocket.
“You can look at the maps,” he says at last. “I suppose.”
And then, before I can figure out how to intervene, he’s leading Ale away. I run into the parlor and hover over the trunk. I don’t want to leave Ale up here. But we don’t have much time before somebody in these quarters figures out Verene is missing. I have a very small window of opportunity, and I can’t waste it.
I drag the trunk into the dining room, very aware of the conspicuous slide of it on the tile. I push open the doors and stand poised at the top, looking down into the shadows.
I’ll just quickly search the well and then come back. But I didn’t expect that I’d have to go down this staircase by myself. Now, when I find out what’s really happening in this city, I’ll be facing it alone.
But that doesn’t scare me. I was alone in the watercrea’s tower, and I handled that just fine.
I try to take the first step, but my body rebels. It won’t. It can’t. It remembers the cold floor of my cell and the chains around my wrists. It remembers the sounds of the prisoners around me, their breath rattling as they barely clung to life.
I grit my teeth. I have this city’s ruler tied up in a trunk. I’m in control now. I’ll always be in control.
I pull the trunk onto the landing of the staircase, shutting the door behind me.
Last year, Ale was at my house for our usual afternoon coffee. Two of my aunts were chaperoning us and sewing in the corner, bored out of their minds, while we steadily demolished an overly generous serving of raspberry tart.
“I found out the reason Giulia was crying when we left the reception,” I said. “Her new husband got drunk and told her he’d rather have married her sister.”
“Oh, that’s…” Ale pushed the last bit of tart in my direction. “Is she all right? That’s horrible.”
“It’s hilarious,” I insisted.
I idly tapped my fork. Giulia was two years younger than me. It’s possible I was a bit grumpy about having to stand in the crowd while she got to parade around as a bride.
“Isn’t it ridiculous, though?” I said.
“What?” Ale said. “Giulia’s husband wanting to marry her sister? I suppose he can’t help who he falls in love with, but…”
“Isn’t it ridiculous that the only thing standing between us and our own marriage is my womb? And all because the cursed thing refuses to bleed.”
Ale paled and gave my aunts a nervous glance, but they didn’t even look up. This was nothing they hadn’t heard before.
“It clearly has a mind of its own.” I considered, then dropped my voice. “Do you think I should… hurry the process along?”
Ale paled even further. “You can do that?”
“I’ve been contemplating it. If I say I’ve got blood coming out of my nether regions, what man is going to stick his head down there and check? Paola will go along with it. We’ll just—”
“No,” Ale said.
I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. “No? Why not?”
“You…” His eyes darted around the parlor. “You shouldn’t.”
“But I want to,” I said.
“But—” he said.
“Yes, Ale, I know it’s against the rules.” I set down my fork. “But I’m bored of this juvenile lifestyle. It’s time for me
