Island of Glass by Ruth Nestvold

Author:Ruth Nestvold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA Fantasy
Publisher: Red Dragon Books
Published: 2017-01-02T21:24:39+00:00

Chapter 8

In which Chiara visits a grave and finds an answer.

The residents of the ghetto still addressed her respectfully as Maestra, even though most of them must now know that she was engaged to Prince Vittore. Not that her engagement changed her title, but on Murano, people had already begun addressing her as Principessa (and not in the mocking tone Pasquale had used). She suspected they thought it an honor for her to be called "Princess," but Chiara much preferred Maestra, the title she had earned. The title they used for her here, in Cannaregio, where the gates were locked at night.

On her arrival, Signora Gutfe took her in the firm embrace that reminded Chiara of her grandmother. Then her godmother made tea, and they sat down at the rickety table next to the door of the tiny balcony.

"My uncle Gian is free," Chiara said.

"Yes, I heard. Congratulations."

"I am to marry Prince Vittore."

"I heard that as well."

"The magic was wrong somehow!"

Her godmother set her teacup down on its saucer, shaking her head. "But you achieved what you asked for, Chiara. Your uncle is no longer in prison. Magic rarely works in the way we expect."

"But the price ..." She dropped her head into her hands.

"That too is not always what we expect."

"It's unfair." Chiara jumped up and began pacing the small room, her fists clenched tightly in front of her. "In my great-grandmother's time, no member of the nobility would have married a glassmaker."

"And no glassmaker would have married a Jew," her godmother reminded her gently. "Without the changes leading to your engagement to Prince Vittore, you would not be here to complain about the results of your magic."

All too true. She knelt down next to Signora's Gutfe's chair. "Still, Nonna, do you think there is any way to change the direction of the magic?"

Signora Gutfe stroked her hair. "I may have given you the wrong amulet. I do not know if there is a way to change the direction of the magic now."

"The wrong amulet?"

"The shoham stone gives success, which you had, but it also bestows persuasion and grace."

Chiara pulled the amulet out of the neckline of her gown and gazed down at the glinting onyx. "Perhaps too much?"

"So I fear."

She embraced her godmother's knees. "I must get out of this marriage. Tell me there is something I can do."

"Why are you so set against marrying the Prince? Many women dream of such a thing."

"He treats his servants like furniture — and me little better. He did not even ask me if I wanted to wed him. He merely announced that he would marry me." And if she had allowed him to send the servants away, he would probably have had his way with her on the floor of the audience chamber, just as casually.

"Ah." Signora Gutfe was silent for a moment. "Would it have been better if he had asked?"

"I — no." An image rose in her mind of Pasquale's friendly face, his soft brown eyes and wide

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