Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(10)

Rafeo stepped behind Mother, crossed his eyes at me, and then left me alone with her. Ass. I would make him pay.

“I took some food after my job, is all,” I said. Sometimes the best way to deal with Mother when she was in one of her moods was to go on the offensive. “I needed it to offset the loving poison you dosed me with.”

She ignored my comment. “Food? Where?”

“Fabricio’s.”

Her lips tightened, carving lines in her skin. “I don’t want you lining the Da Vias’ pockets. Our Family will not help them in their grab for status.”

It always came down to what was best for the Family.

“Now. The Caffarellis have put in a claim for you for their son Brando.”

My breath left me in a rush of air. A claim had come in for me. For marriage. With Brando Caffarelli.

Mother had been born a Caffarelli and had only become a Saldana after she’d married my father and their union had produced a child—Rafeo.

Brando, Brand as everyone called him, was tall and handsome and well established as a clipper. He had blond hair, like my mother, like all the Caffarellis, and I knew Mother had imagined the towheaded babies we’d produce.

Brand, though, was the son of Mother’s oldest brother. “He’s my first cousin!”

“Oh, be calm. His mother’s not of the Families. He has enough outside blood that it’s not a concern.”

“What about Valentino Da Via? He’s closer to my age.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake.

Mother pursed her lips and her eyes widened. “Never. Never will the Saldanas make another union with the Da Vias.”

My uncle Marcello had been married to Estella Da Via before I was born. Then something went wrong and no one would speak about it, but the Saldanas and Da Vias had been at each other ever since.

Mother regained her composure. “The Caffarellis are willing to let him become a Saldana and offer us a small dowry.”

I paused. A clipper usually joined another Family officially when a marriage produced a child. Then negotiations would decide which clipper changed Families and who paid a dowry. But the Caffarellis were willing to give us Brand and money if we agreed to this union. How was I worth so much?

Rank, of course. The Saldanas were the first Family, the Caffarellis the fifth. If we agreed to the marriage, their rank would rise drastically, perhaps enough to surpass the Bartolomeos and the Accursos.

The Saldanas as the first Family, and my father as our head, held the most power over the nine Families, but the main reason why we were the first Family was my father’s close friendship with the king.

“All of that aside”—my mother flicked her fingers in the air—“it is a serious claim and we should consider it. Safraella knows we could use the money almost as much as we could use the addition to the Family. That plague may as well have killed us all unless we increase our numbers and funds. It’s a miracle the other Families haven’t made a move against us.”

My stomach sank whenever she spoke like this. Like our rank compared to the other Families was more important than the people we lost. “They wouldn’t dare, Mother. Not with Father’s friendship with the king.”

Mother raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter that your father was the king’s foster brother and his personal guard until Marcello almost ruined this Family. If the other Families were to take a stand against us, Costanzo Sapienza would not stop them. He would not save your father over the lives of the common, over the safety of the country.”

I dropped my gaze. When the king had bowed to Safraella on behalf of the entire country, She had become Lovero’s patron. Before that, people had worshipped whichever god they wanted, and the stone walls had tried to keep the ghosts out. Now almost everyone in Lovero worshipped Safraella, and the king had become our wall. His faith, his belief on behalf of all of us, kept the ghosts away. If he were to falter in his faith, the ghosts would find their way back inside.

“Why is it just me?” I changed the subject. “Matteo is older.”

“Don’t for a second think you’re so special. Just because you’re not privy to our conversations doesn’t mean I’m not discussing marriage prospects with Matteo. Or even Rafeo. Two years has been long enough to grieve.”

Another door down the hall opened and my father stepped out, his dark, curly hair pulled back respectably in a tie. He wore a pair of glasses to help him with reading in the lamplight.

“Ah, Lea. I’ll take your report, if your mother can spare you?”

Saved by my father once again.

Mother dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Go speak with your father. But we are not done with this talk. You’re plenty old enough to contribute to the growth of this Family.”

I tried not to shudder. Marriage prospects with anyone, even Brand Caffarelli, were something I was not remotely ready to discuss.

My father held open his office door while I walked in. I took a seat and pulled off my mask.

Papers and parchments lay scattered across his desk. A small stack caught my eye: letters from priests putting in their bid to be the new Saldana Family priest. I picked up the one on top, sent from a priest named Faraday from a monastery on the dead plains. We’d been without a priest for two years, but it wasn’t as easy as just choosing anyone. The Family priest was as good as family. He would live with us, counsel us in all matters, keep Family records. He had to be a good fit.