“That is entirely up to you.” She should probably discourage him from speaking ill of them, but if he felt like judging someone else for a change, she wouldn’t object. “What have they done to make rusty-spoon-eyeball-gouging so tempting?”
“They complain. Constantly.”
Oh. Still her fault, then. “Yes, well, they expected exalted positions serving their illustrious Finestra and Fonte and instead are stuck with the greatest failure in the history of Saverio. It’s not exactly what they signed up for.”
“They signed up. It’s their job.”
She sighed. “The last time I ventured into the city, children jeered at them and ran away, screaming at the sight of me.”
“They don’t treat you with respect, they can’t expect anyone else to.”
Heat burned the back of her throat. “I haven’t exactly earned anyone’s respect.”
“I don’t know about that. Your mentor—the lady—”
“Signora Renata. The dowager Finestra. You know her name.”
“Whatever. Anyway, she looked impressed when you were barking at her earlier, like a puppy yapping at a bulldog.”
“Now that’s the confidence builder I needed.”
“Finestra?” Kamaria stood in the doorway, watching them with a strange look on her face.
Alessa tossed the pillow aside and scrambled to her feet, cursing herself for being caught in such an undignified pose. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“We’re heading downstairs.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be right down.”
Kamaria left and Alessa rolled her shoulders back, feeling like she should be wearing armor.
“è meglio cader dalla finestra che dal tetto,” Dante said softly.
It’s better to fall from the window than from the roof. One of Mama’s favorites.
“Very clever. Are they falling through me or pushing me out of one?”
He stood, sliding a small leather-bound book into his back pocket. “Only one way to find out.”
Eighteen
Chi vive tra lupi, impara ad ululare.
Live with wolves, learn to howl.
DAYS BEFORE DIVORANDO: 28
Alessa had the place of honor at the head of the table, so she couldn’t miss a single miserable glance or flinch as the Fontes took their seats.
To Alessa’s right, Nina bowed her head, whispering a soft prayer.
Alessa picked up her fork and the movement startled Nina, who knocked her water glass into her lap.
Across the table, Saida grimaced. Kaleb groaned.
Nina’s lip trembled as a servant hustled in with a stack of napkins.
Alessa grasped for old memories, anything to talk about. “Kamaria, do you still play guitar?”
Kamaria idly toyed with her fork. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering. Nina, how are you enjoying the temple choir these days? Your solo at last week’s service was lovely.”
Nina mumbled, “You’re kind to say so.”
Josef’s voice was soft and gentle. “I keep telling her she has the voice of an angel, but she doesn’t believe me.”
Alessa tried again. “Saida, how is your project coming along?”
“Going as well as it can, I suppose. I’m focusing on desserts for now.”
Alessa tried to keep the conversation going over a starting course of melone e prosciutto, but the stilted responses she pried from the Fontes made Dante seem like a chatterbox in comparison.
The kitchen staff had prepared a feast worthy of divine saviors, probably thinking the Fontes deserved a generous last meal, but Alessa was the only one who did more than pick at it. Aside from Dante, who sat in a chair by the doors to the kitchen, plowing through his third serving with no sign of slowing.
As they waited for dessert to arrive, Dante stretched his legs, clasping his fingers behind his head. His easy movement cut through the tension like a fit of giggles during temple.
Alessa wasn’t the only one who shot him a sidelong glare.
Kaleb snapped his fingers at Dante. “Make yourself useful and bring us another bottle, will you?”
Alessa grimaced. “Please?”
Dante snatched a bottle from the sideboard and thumped it onto the table, rattling the dishes, and stalked back to his corner.
“Can’t find good help anywhere,” Kaleb muttered, poking at his plate of freshly made gnocchi dripping with garlic butter.
“He’s a guard, not a servant,” Alessa said.
“So, how’s this going to go?” Kaleb said. “You torture us until there’s only one left, and the winner’s the last one standing?”