Free The Love Lottery by Linda Andrews

 
     
    The Love Lottery
     
     
    "I would like to say something in my defense." Lia Lombard pushed off the gleaming oak bench and stepped onto the mosaic floor in front of the city council table. Stopping four feet away from the mayor, she locked her trembling knees. She tried to swallow, but her tongue swelled like foam in her mouth. Oh, for a drink of water, just a sip.
    She glanced out the window. Rain pattered gently against the stained glass depicting Psyche leaning over a sleeping Cupid. Lia's leg jumped. The door was only ten feet behind her. She could leave, run out of the Consiglio Comunale's chambers, tilt her face up and let the frigid rain slide down her parched throat.
    Her sister Alessa eased next to her, brushing her shoulder despite the open space. Alessa’s sneakers squeaked on the tile, smearing mud on the mosaic’s sky. She tucked her hands in her rain-spotted jeans and offered Lia a stiff smile.
    Lia raised her chin. She couldn't run away, and refused to show any weakness in front of Amores's governing council. Her life depended on it.
    "We are not a jury, orfana ." Sindaco Mezzerti nodded to the four members on his right then the other four members of the council on his left. He rested his hands on the long marble table in front of him before leaning back on his elevated marble throne.
    Liar! Lia bit her lip to stop the accusation from spilling out. They were judging her. In moments, they would pass sentence. Life as she knew it would end. All because she had no blood ties to the village.
    Inhaling a shaky breath, she eased forward over the tiles depicting the green mountains and stopped square on the palace that had become Psyche's home.
    Home.
    Amores was her home. Her adopted sister, the only family she'd ever known, lived here. Her adoptive parents were buried under the village. But these people would send her away, cast her out. She saw it in their raised chins. Their shimmering white togas with jewel-toned trim were shackles to the past, to tradition—one she didn't share by birthright, by blood. They'd made that clear by calling her orfana instead of by her name. They all knew her name. The only one she'd ever had.
    These nine men and women knew her. Each and every one of them had taught her at various times during her schooling. She focused on the man in the center, watched as he adjusted the laurel wreath on his bald head. Mayor Mezzerti was currently teaching her pasta-making at Amores's Scuola secondaria di secondo grado .
    But the words—the pleas—lodged in her throat, refusing to budge. Gods, please help me.
    "My sister's name is Lia." Alessa laced her fingers through Lia's and squeezed gently. Her grasp was warm and comforting, as it had been these last ten years since Mama and Papa died. "Lia Lombard. Not orfana ."
    Under Lia's feet, the mosaic changed. Instead of blue sky, the image shifted into a village. It wavered for a moment then disappeared under a wave of blue and gold. She blinked; two hot tears streaked down her cheeks. The mass of fluttering blue curved into a smiling drama mask before evolving into a single large butterfly.
    Lia's heart lifted into her mouth. Cupid's wife Psyche had been given butterfly wings when she'd turned immortal. Surely, this was a sign the gods wanted her to stay in Amores.
    Her attention flew to the faces of the council. Masks of grim determination met her eyes.
    With a gasp, she stepped onto the gold spot on the butterfly's wing. Had they not seen the omen? Or had they lived with magic so long they no longer paid it any heed?
    Sindaco Mezzerti cleared his throat and adjusted the silver frames of his readers. Papyrus rustled as he unrolled the scroll in front of him.
    "That is precisely why the Consiglio Comunale has convened, Vestal Alessa. She's not your sister. Your parents never finalized the adoption."
    A muscle flexed in Alessa's jaw before she released Lia's hand and strode forward. Her fist thumped the marble table, and she leaned forward,