Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(2)
Nomi walked faster, as if trying to physically escape Serina’s words. “That’s the difference between you and me,” she said, her hands clenched at her sides. A dusky pink flush bloomed across her face. “I don’t think this city is ugly. And I don’t believe in fairy tales. I don’t want—”
“Everything you do want is beyond our reach,” Serina snapped, tired of Nomi’s anger. “You will never be able to choose your own job or your own husband, or… or anything else. It just doesn’t work that way.” It wasn’t Serina’s fault that Viridia gave women so few choices. Serina had learned long ago that fighting didn’t change anything, so she made the best of what she had.
And what she had was the chance to become one of the most revered women in the whole country. If the Heir chose her, she could become the mother of a future Superior.
“Nothing should be beyond our reach. That’s my whole point,” Nomi said.
They were still swept up in the tide of their argument when they reached the creaking door of the family’s small apartment. Renzo held it open for them, his sardonic look making it clear he’d heard them. “Nomi, Papa wants you to start dinner.”
Nomi stormed into the small living room without answering. Serina followed, pulling her skirts close so they wouldn’t catch on the doorframe. Serina saw her sister’s gaze linger on Renzo’s schoolbooks, still open on the rough-hewn dining table. She nudged Nomi’s arm in warning. When she didn’t move, Serina cleared her throat.
Nomi looked up at her sister, but it took a split second for her eyes to focus. Then she shook her head, as if to clear it, and hurried to the sink.
Serina glanced over at their parents, but they were speaking quietly by the little potbellied stove. They hadn’t noticed the exchange. There was a lot they didn’t notice.
Serina and Nomi were like any other daughters in the cold, industrial town of Lanos.
But Serina had her beauty.
And Nomi had her secret.
Serina prayed she was enough to catch the eye of the Heir, for her sake as well as her sister’s. But as Renzo closed the door, the hollow thud echoed into Serina’s bones. She shivered, suddenly filled with fears she couldn’t name.
TWO
NOMI
THE RICKSHAW DRIVER pedaled madly, undeterred by jarring gaps in the cobbles and wide-eyed pedestrians. All the rocking and bumping unsettled Nomi’s stomach. Or maybe it was the heavy, humid air that smelled of rotting fish.
No. She knew what twisted every muscle and sucked all the breath from her lungs. The closer they got to the palazzo, the more fervently she wished they were heading the other way. It had been less than a fortnight since Signor Pietro had chosen Serina, and the days had skittered by as quickly and painfully as this last, rickety ride.
Nomi winced as Serina’s grip on her arm tightened, her nails digging in as the carriage careened over a small bridge, teetering frighteningly close to the edge. Renzo’s cheeks paled. He took up the entire seat across from them, his long legs folded up like a spider’s to fit in the small space.
Too soon, the rickshaw slammed to a halt at the edge of the grand piazza. Nomi’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.
At the far edge of the teeming square, a wide canal glittered in the sun, dotted with flocks of long black boats. Beyond it, on its own island, the Superior’s palazzo rose into the sky like a golden sunrise. Nomi took a few deep breaths. Under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed seeing Bellaqua. But not like this. Not today.
Renzo shoved some money at their driver before helping Nomi and Serina out of the rickshaw. Nomi’s knees trembled even after she’d made it to solid ground.
“Time to say goodbye,” Renzo said. He was trying to sound strong, but his voice shook. Of course, Serina kept her head bent, the dutiful sister, as he pulled her into a polite, fleeting embrace.
But Nomi would have none of that. She hugged her brother tightly, burying herself in his jacket, breathing in his familiar, reassuring scent. Her legs and stomach settled, but only a little. He would wait in Bellaqua until the announcement. She might see him again in a few hours, or never. She couldn’t bear the uncertainty.
“Should I plan to spirit you two to freedom, if Serina is chosen?” Renzo whispered jokingly, but with an edge to his voice.
If only. Nomi tightened her arms around him before drawing away. They shared an agonized look.
“Come on, Nomi,” Serina said quietly. A man in black-and-gold livery was holding out a hand to her. With bowed head, she placed her fingers on his arm.
Nomi’s breath seized. She wasn’t ready.
Renzo seemed to understand. With an attempt at a smile, he kissed her cheek and hurried away so she didn’t have to be the one to leave him. The parting cut her like a blade.
“Come on,” Serina murmured again.
Reluctantly, Nomi turned to follow her sister through the crowd. The black-and-gold-clad gondolier led them across the piazza to the grand canal, where his gondola bobbed gently with the others. He helped Serina and then Nomi into his boat, settling them onto soft, gold-threaded cushions. All around them, scores of other girls floated over the water in their own gondolas, their colorful dresses marking them as prospects.
The crowd watching the procession of girls laughed and cheered. A child threw handfuls of flowers into the air as Nomi and Serina pushed away from the edge of the canal. Serina smiled at the attention, at the soaring pink petals.