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“I hope you’ve been well.”

I couldn’t seem to form any words.

He leaned close to me. “As you know by now, I’ve decided to move forward with an offer for your company. You are quite a pretty thing. I’m sure we’ll enjoy each other when we continue what we started last night.” He touched my bare shoulder with his long, smooth fingers and looked at me expectantly.

“My lord, I am—I am humbled by your attention.”

He smiled. His white teeth gleamed.

“But I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

His fingers tightened on my shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

I took a half step backward. It was as though I were hearing my own voice at a great distance. “I will not be able to accept.” The matron’s words came back to me. “I regret it. I really do.”

“You won’t be able to accept?” The tips of his ears turned red. His voice rose. “Who are you to refuse me?”

Several heads turned in our direction.

“It’s that bastard. I knew it. Even after all my caution.” He was stuttering with rage. His fingers dug hard into my skin. “I see that I’ve been misled about how this process works. If you want to dirty yourself with him, knowing what kind of a man he is, then I want nothing to do with you.” With a last squeeze, he released his grip.

I knew I was doing something foolish, but now that it was set in motion, I could not seem to stop it. The panic rising in my chest propelled me forward. My heart raced. “I decline your offer.”

I gathered up the fabric of my dress and bolted inside.

The hallways were quiet. Courtesans and guests alike were outside enjoying the clear night air. Music drifted in from the terraces and promenades. Slowly, a terrible fear grew to accompany the ache in my heart. What should I do now? Not knowing where else to go, I stumbled my way to the dormitory. I washed my face and lay down on my bed. The room was silent and still, except for a steady drip-drip from a leaky basin in the adjoining room. What would happen to me? Surely a tira who insulted and offended a guest of Casa Caligine would be sold off to the least of houses. I’d never earn enough at a place like that. The burden of twenty years of ever-rising debt would grow heavier and heavier until I collapsed under its weight.

Eventually I heard the footsteps and whispers of the other girls returning to the room. Four girls returning, not five. Kyra was gone. I was alone now in the mess I had created. Lanterns were lit, water splashed in the basin, lanterns were extinguished. It was not until the gleam of moonlight came in through the high windows that I finally fell asleep, clutching my little statue.

viii

I WOKE BEFORE DAWN AS THOUGH A BELL HAD RUNG. IT was still dark. I sat up quietly and pulled my leather satchel out from under my bed. Geographica was a weight inside it. I tossed in the little Goddess figurine, my silver-handled brush, and a spare tunic and leggings. I put on the simple palla that I had brought with me from the Schola Morum weeks before, quickly arranging the clinging white dress and scarf before pulling on my soft leather boots.

I had no coins, no letter of introduction, no relatives, no real knowledge about the world, but I could not stay at Casa Caligine waiting to see what would happen to me. Women disappear all the time, Flavia had said. I would not wait to be summoned again to the matron’s office. I would leave on my own.

The hallway and stairs were quiet. I passed no one. I was eager to escape without being seen, but on an impulse, I crept upstairs to the small library. I was leaving with one book. Why not two? No one would miss these volumes. I made room in the satchel for Astrolabe beside Geographica and bid a silent goodbye to the dusty shelves.

I hurried quickly back down the stairs. The entrance hall was empty. The first light of dawn filtered through a high window. At another time I might have found the silent room peaceful, with its arched ceiling, stone walls, and vases of lilacs bathed in an early-morning glow. Now, the place seemed oppressive, the thick oak door like a sentinel, daring me to try to open it. I knew I couldn’t stay, but I was afraid to leave. This was the only life I had ever known. I had the sudden urge to take a last look out over the city. I crept down the hallway and reached the stretch of corridor where just over a week before I had seen Sebastianus pin Clemens Fabius against the wall. It might as well have been a year ago.

I stepped outside. Mist hung about the terrace, pink with the first rays of the sun. What a lovely place. Now that I was determined to leave, I was acutely aware of its beauty. I moved forward, breathing in the damp air, feeling the condensation on my skin.

Suddenly, I heard a quiet, deep voice. “Anna? What’s this?”

I nearly cried out in surprise.

The Archidux sat near the central fountain with his walking stick propped against the stones. A cup of ginger root tisane steamed on the table before him.

My throat tightened with panic.

He motioned for me to sit down.

“No thank you, Your Grace. I—I am afraid I cannot stay.”

“I thought we had established that you should use my given name.”

“Pardon—Sebastianus.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m a bit distracted. I should be going.”

“Where are you going?” He took in my unruly hair, my rumpled tunic and leggings, the satchel slung across my shoulder. “Surely you aren’t thinking of leaving?”