Page 17 of The Cruelty of Thorns

She turned to face me, her hands clasped in front of her. “My mistress has…appetites.”

I closed my eyes and thought back to my last encounter with the Contessa. I was convinced the woman was a witch, so thoroughly had she spellbound me. I remember wanting to demand that she release me, then somehow I was back in bed with her. Everything else was kind of fuzzy, though I did recall her mouth at my throat. I raised my hand to my neck and felt the welts of a wound there.

“She bit me.”

Rosetta nodded grimly. “That is what she does.”

“What kind of woman bites people and holds them prisoner in her house?”

“I think you can work that out,” Rosetta replied, seeming to grow distressed at my questions. “Please finish your meal.”

“Why?”

She wrung her hands. “You will need your strength. Otherwise, you are no good to her.”

“And what would happen then?”

“The Contessa does not suffer uselessness. She will discard you.”

“Does that mean she would send me home?” I asked hopefully.

The maid’s eyes were sympathetic. “No. Those she deems unworthy are sent below.”

“Below where?”

“The cellar. You do not want to go there.”

“Why not?”

“It is a last resort. Those who are sent there die a slow death, brought on by neglect and starvation.”

Die? What had I gotten myself into? “How can I get out of here? You must help me.”

Rosetta shook her head. “You cannot leave. Her men will not allow it.”

“Who are these men?”

“Franco, the keeper at the gate, and Giovanni, the coachman. They are loyal to her.”

“Loyal to her how? Are they family? Does she hold something over them?”

“You ask too many questions,” she hissed, looking around as though the walls could hear us.

“This is my life we’re talking about. I think I have a right to know.”

“You should not have accepted her invitation. Now please, just eat your meal. I have been gone too long already.”

As curious as I was, I didn’t want to be responsible for getting her into trouble. I took another bite of meat and chewed thoughtfully. “What will she do to you?”

“You do not want to know.”

“I asked, therefore I do. What kind of punishment does she threaten you with?”

“Please, just eat.”

“I am eating,” I insisted, shoveling another mouthful in. “Please, Rosetta, tell me.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away from me, her voice small. “You do not want to be taken to her rose garden.”

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