Page 33 of This Vicious Grace

She never went against them. Or anyone, for that matter. People gave directions and she took them. No exceptions. She didn’t even know how to argue with them, much less win.

Tomo and Renata should have been mere backup by now, offering occasional advice to Alessa and her Fonte. But since Alessa was still alone, and the military was frightened rather than respectful of her, they took on more responsibility than they otherwise would, and her guilt deterred her from being more of a nuisance than she already was.

Not anymore.

“Finestra?” Tomo called out.

“I’ll be right there.” She unlocked the gate at quarter speed.

She could hand Dante some coins and send him toward the nearest exit. Tomo and Renata would never know, and everything would go back to how it was before.

When a woman threw a dagger at her head.

When Tomo and Renata casually discussed murdering her.

When a man tried to crush the life from her body. A man who might be walking the halls of the Cittadella right now.

She could send Dante away and accept her fate… or she could stall.

“Lock it behind me, then go,” she whispered, tossing him the key.

Dante caught it in one hand. “Go where?”

“Anywhere. Just keep the armband on.” She made shooing motions, but he merely tilted his head like a baffled dog. She’d assumed the wolf nickname was a compliment, but perhaps not. “I’ll meet you upstairs when we’re finished.”

“What do I do until then?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you want.” She had no idea what guards did or didn’t do. She nursed resentment when they shrank away from her, but rarely thought about them otherwise. Dozens of people who marched around the lower levels every day barely intruded in her thoughts. For someone who hated feeling invisible, it was an uncomfortable realization.

“Go make friends with the other guards or something,” she said.

He curled his lip in disgust. “I’ll sniff around for a bit and figure out who to watch out for.”

“Good idea.” Her stomach clenched at the memory of heavy boots and unforgiving hands.

“The Consiglio iswaiting, Finestra,” Renata called. “I hope you’ve made your decision.”

If you can’t change the rules, who can?

“I have,” she said, then louder. “Ihavemade a decision.” She hoped they hadn’t heard the waver in her voice.

Dante stared at her so intently she feared he could see right through her.

Thirteen

L’occasione fa l’uomo ladro.

Opportunity makes the man a thief.

“We gather today to ordain the holy partnership, complete the sacred circle…” Padre Calabrese would speak all day if they let him.

The temple was less solemn and crowded than it had been for Hugo’s funeral, but Alessa was kneeling at the altar, again. The other council members stared down their noses at her, where she bowed like a supplicant rather than a savior.

She’d never bristled at the condescension etched on their faces before, but she was tired of being deferential, of feeling small and wrong and broken. No matter what happened in the weeks to come, she couldn’t defeat it by cowering.

“I’d like a moment to speak,” Alessa said, heart beating double time.

Renata and Tomo stole glances at each other behind the Padre’s back.

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