Look Beyond What You See

Blessings in Disguise

"So it is an elopement you're after, rather than an offer to help me to freedom," I say slowly, more to myself than to him as I sit down on a nearby bench, one hand on my forehead. This is all just too much to deal with right now. What I wouldn't give to be alone! "I should have suspected as much. You suggest I trade an engagement for a marriage on the run, with no ceremony and barely any legitimacy, to a man who has been only a combat tutor to me, and that with all the grudging my fiancé could muster."

"Not quite. He didn't kill me," Giacomo mutters. "In fact, he told me several times that you were engaged to him and that I must never forget that for a moment."

"And yet you seem to have forgotten it now, to make such a ludicrous offer to me."

"Hardly. Now more than ever this 'engagement' of yours preys upon my mind, for I was in the library when you caught Yekaterina and your fiancé at a rather inopportune moment for them. I had been doing a bit of research a few shelves over, and I heard everything."

"How sneaky of you."

He rolls his eyes in reply. "You can get away from them. Come to Venice with me."

"But at what cost would I be getting away from them? I would sacrifice my honor, not to mention that my grandmother arranged this marriage for me, and to defy her wishes is nothing short of asking for a death sentence. I appreciate your concern for my happiness, but my answer by necessity must be no." I do not mention that the shattered remnants of my heart could not bear to leave this place, even now. I hate to admit it, but I care for Dmitri deeply, in spite of all that has happened, and I cannot bear to leave him. He has made mistakes in the way he dealt with Yekaterina, but then, perhaps if I had been honest with him from the start about how much her conduct towards him bothered me, he would have been more firm and all of this could have been avoided. Perhaps I am also at fault, for the games I have been playing.

Giacomo's eyes turn hard, but a new light of understanding gleams in them, also. "Does she not wish you to fight with her allies anyway, which includes my clan?"

"Not at the expense of violating the agreement she and my grandfather have made with the Berkeleys. I'm sure you know the story, as well informed as you seem to be about such things."

"On the contrary, my knowledge of such things stems only from rumours and overhearings, though it is commonly said that your grandparents have arranged for the marriages of their grandchildren into families whom your grandfather offended with various indiscretions and irregularities at the gambling table." He pauses, and when I do not contradict this, he feels himself permitted to continue. "It is also rumoured that your grandmother uses her dark arts to ensure that these matches are not opposed by the young people forced into them. I have heard that she enchants necklaces and that the young people use them instead of engagement or wedding rings, and are thus kept under her power."

"So it is said," I reply carefully, wondering where he might be going with this. His eyes are tumultuous, with a victory light blazing in them.

"And so, to set you free to follow the desires of your heart, to enable you to accompany me to Venice, I need only free you from the instrument of your grandmother's control!" Without warning fog rushes around my neck, enveloping the necklace and condensing around it without also condensing around my neck, which would have choked me.

"You can't! It's a magic thing, you know, and even if you should succeed, have you any idea what my grandmother might do to you for interfering in her schemes?!" I protest, trying to get rid of the fog. Giacomo's response is to sit down beside me and forcibly hold my arms at my sides. The fog's pressure on the necklace increases. No metal, even enchanted metal, is entirely unbreakable. The necklace is throbbing and growing hot, despite the fog around it. Should it break, it will hurt someone. But I can't be invisible while he's touching me. I try to make myself slippery like an eel. Giacomo's grip on me tightens. I squirm and squirm, but I can't get away. Will he try to take me with him by force? I can't get away. There has to be something—