Installment the Second

This is the second installment in my NaNoWriMo novel. You can read the first installment here. I finished it today with a nice little epilogue and finished with 54,414 words. Some I think may actually be great. Some not so much. That’s life, and it’s only a first draft. So I hope you enjoy it. (This one will be public, but from now on, the story will be FO, so please leave me a note if you want me to add you.)

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The night of her sixteenth birthday. Alina sighed at the memory of that night. The grand and glorious party just for her, when first her father and then her brother whirled her around the ballroom before passing her off to the many men both old and young who had come to her debut. She danced so much that she was sure she had worn a hole in the sole of her shoe, and despite her exhaustion she had stayed up until almost dawn describing everything in detail to Bridget, who was only 13 and very disheartened by the thought of waiting another three long years for her own entrance into society. She had danced that night with the light steps of a light heart, blissfully unaware of the politics that governed her world.

Her steps now were heavy and careworn, her velvet slippers  replaced with sturdy boots. The sound of the thick soles against the hard rock of the cave floor echoed in her tiny valley as she gathered her things back into the wagon. She heated a bowl of rabbit stew in the embers of the fire and mixed up some oatmeal for Sara, who ate it with her eyes half shut.

Their journey had been hard on the infant. She had turned one just a week before they had fled Venice and it was hard to ration the grain to keep both her and the horse fed or to cook vegetables long enough for her to eat. If she had known then what would happen to them, Alina would have insisted on nursing the baby herself instead of having a wet nurse. Then at least the girl would be properly fed. But such things simply weren’t done among their set, and a suitable wet nurse had been found before the girl was even born. Now she was half starving out of the vanity and pretensions of the middle class.

Alina hitched the big dapple gray horse to the wagon and settled Sara on a mattress in the back. Carefully she guided the horse and wagon along the narrow, rocky path that had led them down into the valley the night before. When they reached the plateau, Alina had to blink. Dawn in the west was bright and fierce as the sun seemed to rise from the earth itself. The way ahead was through flat, dry scrubland. Occasionally the land before them seemed to roll and fold over on itself, or to rise high in a bluff. With the sun seeming to point the way ahead, Alina mounted to the wagon’s seat, and flapped the reins. The horse shambled forward, always heading west.

 

Alina slept late into the morning on the day following her party. She woke to the sounds of Bridget and Seldon hard at their music lesson in the next room. From what she could hear, it was not going well. Bridget excelled at music and could play harpsichord and mandolin, which was her instrument this morning. Seldon, however, was an unruly harpsichord student, and never practiced unless he was forced. They couldn’t seem to play more than five bars together before a missed note held them up, each one marked by the slap of Master Antonio’s baton against the wood of the harpsichord. Bridget sounded cross and Master Antonio wasn’t known for his patience. Alina was very glad that the party had given her an excuse to miss this particular lesson.

Giulia seemed to know that she was awake. The nurse bustled in with a tray that steamed faintly. Alina pushed herself up and was dismayed to find that her head seemed to weigh several pounds more than it had. She pressed her palm against her forehead.

“Are you well, dear?” Giulia asked with a wicked smile. She placed the tray beside the bed and began to open the curtains on the tall windows. Alina yelped as the midday light stabbed her eyes. “No?”

            “I’m dying,” Alina groaned, trying to pull her covers over her head.

            “Don’t be stupid,” Giulia chided, yanking them back down, and settling the tray in front of the girl. “You’ll be fine. You just drank quite a bit more wine than you should have. Have some breakfast.”

            Alina gulped, feeling her stomach roll at the sight of the food. “I’m never drinking again,” she said vehemently.

            “Nonsense.” Giulia tucked a napkin around Alina’s chin and held a goblet of water under her nose. It fizzed slightly.

            “Soda water?” Alina asked.

            “For your stomach,” Giulia said. Alina sipped. “And willow tea for your headache. You really will feel better if you eat something. Try the crepes first. The sweet will help.”

            Alina was skeptical, but took a small bite anyway. It did seem to settle her stomach a bit. The willow tea was sweetened with honey and by the time she had finished that, she found her appetite had returned. Satisfied that Alina was eating. Giulia bustled around the room, tossing the hastily discarded silk stockings and shift into a basket to be laundered and settling the pink velvet slippers on a shelf in the dressing room. The gown lay in a rumpled heap on the floor. Giulia sighed and collected that as well, checking for any stains before she set it aside to be pressed.

            “So did any men catch your fancy?” she asked as she moved through the room. “How about that Gallavetti lad?” Alina giggled to hear the Scottish word in Giulia’s heavy Venetian accent.

            “He’s very handsome,” she admitted. “And he seemed to be very well educated.”

            “How so?”

            Alina made a face. “Well, he talked a great deal.”

            “Fah,” Giulia scoffed. “Talk is for after the wedding night. It’s the promise of education in the bedroom that gets you to the altar.”

            “Giulia!” Alina blushed to her hairline. Giulia just laughed.

            “Is he a good dancer at least?” she asked, seemingly prepared to drop the subject of the boudoir.

            “He is, indeed. We danced several times together and he always kept perfect time.”

            “Well if a man can dance, he can certainly fuck.” Giulia winked at Alina, who was stunned into silence at such language and could only stare at her nurse, mouth gaping. “Get used to that kind of language now, girl,” she laughed. “Men are crude animals and while they may want a well bred lady to host their dinner parties, they want the courtesan in the bed chamber.”

Alina drew her knees up to her chest and stared at the sheets.  She felt very young and very ignorant when Giulia spoke to her this way. And truth be told, the thought of her wedding night and what might be expected of her scared her witless. A tear rolled down her scalding cheek. Giulia sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed a curl away from Alina’s face.

“Oh well,” she said softly, “there’s time enough for all of that later. Come.” She lifted the tray from the bed. “Laetitia will help you dress and you can help me in the workshop while Seldon and Bridget are at their afternoon lessons. Then I’ll help you get ready for dinner.”

“Why not Laetitia?” Strictly speaking, Giulia was the children’s nurse, not a lady’s maid. Laetitia was still a bit inexperienced, though, which was why Giulia had helped Alina get ready for the party the night before. But surely Laetitia could handle dinner.

“You’ve a guest this evening.” Giulia’s grin was wolfish. “A young silk trader from the East, somewhere in Persia. His father is preparing him to take over his business and is introducing him to your parents. And he’s a bachelor.”

Alina flopped back on the pillows and pulled the covers over her head. “I’ve had enough of bachelors to last a lifetime,” she groaned. “Tell them I’m sick.”

Giulia just laughed as she gathered the tray and the laundry and slipped out the door.