fromwhere they have been abandoned beside the climbing rose that dances across a trellis pinned to the wall.
“Here, let me help!” I say, jumping up to join her. Faustina grumbles as she clears away the picnic things.
“Take no notice of her,” I say to Emilia as I choose a rose stem to prune back.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says.
“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed to tell Faustina to stop her teasing,” I tell her. “You’re one of the family now.”
We fall into companionable silence as we work, side by side. I try to concentrate on picking out dead rose heads, but I can’t stop thinking about the note. I allow a flicker of hope to spark in my chest, but I won’t let it become a full-blown fantasy. This won’t be the nightmare’s end, but it is a reprieve and may be the first decent step to clearing Roberto’s name.
I move slowly around the garden, seeking out the blooms that are past their best. In a corner, I kneel beside a lattice covered in climbing flowers. I reach past an olive tree, straining to catch a wild stem of roses that has snapped at the base. My hand brushes against something smooth and cold, and, looking down, I see a dagger.
The blade is plunged into the trunk of the tree. A prickle of fear spreads over my skin, because I recognize the hilt—the mother-of-pearl inlay and the polished rosewood, the turned gold of the guard. My fingers wrap around the handle, and I pull the dagger out of the tree, turning it around so that the blade glints in the sunshine.
This is my enemy’s weapon. It is the blade that Carina tried to plunge into my breast that night on the boat. I am sure of it.
“What have you got there?” Faustina has arrived behind me.
“It’s a lady’s dagger,” I say.
Faustina calls to Bianca, who comes running. I glance towards Emilia, but she is absorbed in another part of the garden and doesn’t notice the fuss.
“What’s this, you silly girl?” Faustina asks, indicating the dagger. “Is it yours or any of the servants’? Have you been fooling around out here?”
Bianca shakes her head. “We don’t have the money for such things,” she says. “And I hate blades.” She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Have strangers been in the garden?” she whispers.
I send her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be silly. One of Father’s friends must have dropped it.” I slip the weapon into a basket of gardening tools. “I’ll find out whom it belongs to and return it. Go on, back to your work!”
Bianca dips in a curtsy, before running back to the house. Faustina’s gaze hasn’t left my face.
“How will you find out whom it belongs to?” she asks.
“How do I know?” I say impatiently. “Let’s just forget about it.”
Faustina shrugs, and goes to carry the picnic things indoors. Emilia helps her, packing our leftovers inside the empty bread basket. But I stand rigid. I can’t get Bianca’s words out of my head. Have strangers been in the garden? Or ghosts? Only one person could have put that dagger here. Carina, the woman who once tried to kill me. But Carina’s dead, just a figure in my dreams. No one could have escaped that sinking, burning boat.
I shake myself and follow Faustina and Emilia back tothe house. A silhouette appears in the open doorway, a servant, his face flushed red from exertion.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Your father,” the boy gasps. “He demands your presence at the Doge’s palace. Immediately!” Emilia and I share a startled glance.
“Why?” Faustina demands, giving the boy a stern look.
He hesitates, then pulls his shoulders back, determined to deliver all of his message. “Prince Halim has personally requested you to be among the serving girls. Signor della Scala told me to say that if you don’t obey, the repercussions will be serious.”
Emilia looks at me, confused.
“But why me? I don’t understand,” I say.
“Many daughters of the nobility will be on hand,” says the boy.
“That Prince Halim