Free Cross My Heart by Sasha Gould Page A

woman in a fox mask. “There are plenty of girls we could help instead. Don’t waste our time.”
    I’m a beggar with nothing to offer. Surely Allegreza could see that when she first met me. Just a girl, empty of secrets. And now empty of hope. The bitter air of Vincenzo’s breath forms a cloud above me. For I’m sure now that I will have to marry him.
    “I should leave,” I say.
    Allegreza’s mouth is a stern, straight line, and the great room is filled with a throbbing kind of silence until she speaks again. “Very well.”
    The circle of women opens and I slip out. I can sense their eyes on my back as I walk towards the spiral staircase. I’ve failed. My mind is already traveling forward in time, anticipating the difficult task of getting to bed again without being seen. I walk down the steps, steadying myself against the cold wall with one hand. There’s a doorway, and I go through it, finding myself in an unlit chamber. This isn’t the way I came. I go back to the staircase and continue my way down. But the next chamber doesn’t look any more familiar than the last. Wretched place. Will I now face the ignominy of having to return to the Segreta and ask directions?
    I lean my shoulder against the stairwell. Tears of frustration wet my eyes and I curl my hand into a fist, striking the wall. The floor rings with a jangling sound and I realizethat my sudden movement has sent my purse tumbling from my dress. The coins spin and rattle down the steps. Mary, Mother of God! I tell myself to take deep breaths.
    I half crawl, half stoop to gather up as many as I can find. My purse lies in a pool of starlight, and I funnel the coins back into it. The last one in my palm is larger than the rest—a gold ducat. Engraved on it is St. Mark, a flapping banner in his hands, which he hands to the figure opposite—the Doge.
    In that moment, I remember that I do have a secret. A secret worth far more than the coins in my purse, or even Vincenzo’s fortune.
    “I’m a weak man. Weak and yielding. No one in Venice can find out what I suffer.”
    A whispering voice of uncertainty tells me I should keep the promise I made to him. But my heart’s roar drowns it out. I have no choice.
    I hitch up my skirts and run back up the twisting stairs. I see the glow cast from the enormous fireplaces and rush into the room. I feel armed—like I’m carrying a sword.
    The women stand or sit in small groups, but they turn as one at the sound of my footsteps.
    “What are you doing?” snaps the woman in the fox mask. “You have made your—”
    “I have one!” I interrupt. “I have a secret.”

“D on’t test us further, child,” says Allegreza.
    “I’m not,” I insist, shaking my head. My breath is ragged from running here, but I’m certain of what I’m about to say. “My secret concerns the Doge.”
    Allegreza stiffens. “You know that his wife, the Duchess, is my cousin? Tread carefully. This is not a place for scurrilous gossip.”
    I tell them my secret. Of the falling sickness, of his thrashing as the demons take over. My words tumble over each other, and I spare no detail of his affliction, or my own part in the story.
    The Segreta inhale one huge collective gasp. Someone claps her hands. Murmurs, whispers and little yelps scatter through the air.
    Allegreza holds up her hand. “Silence!”
    There is a hush again.
    “My dear,” she says. There’s a softness in her face eventhough the fiery glow still flickers fiercely all around us, dancing in her eyes. She moves closer. “This is true?”
    “Yes, yes. I promise.” I add, “He doesn’t want anyone to know.”
    The room is silent for a moment. “Then why have you told us?” asks Allegreza, smiling.
    Is this some sort of trick? A test? She knows why.
    “I thought you could help me,” I say.
    “So you prize your own well-being above the oath you made to the Doge?”
    “I …”
    “Go on.”
    I’m not sure if I’m being teased or reprimanded. I glance