THE IMPALER'S WIFE

16

Luigi della Scala is naked, his saggy white flesh grinding against a servant's backside. The lad, too young for a beard, bends over the bed.

"Close the door, wife." Della Scala withdraws slowly.

I am speechless, eyes fixed on the scene. My betrothed is fat and old and prefers boys!

Luigi della Scala leers, pushes back in, withdraws, enters again while the servant boy moans louder. Then della Scala shudders, withdraws, his appendage hanging like a sausage.

"Perhaps you will join us." Della Scala caresses the lad's rump. "My late wife, God bless her soul, was not so inclined. But you are not as devout as you pretend. Come, let me show you how I like to be pleasured."

My body shakes like a dry leaf in a storm. "I will tell the king." Even my voice quivers.

"I doubt he'll believe a silly girl whose heart belongs to another." He sneers. "I've heard the rumors."

I turn, race down the hallway, through the courtyard, and into the chapel where I bolt the door behind me and throw myself at the mercy of the crucified Jesus.

"Forgive me my sins. All of them. The sin of skepticism. Of being jealous of my sister. I repent of desiring another man. Oh Lord, why do you condemn me? How may I atone for my transgressions? A hundred rosaries, alms for the poor, daily confessions, I will do anything anything anything—just numb my mind. Give me the strength to bear this marriage." I suck in the frankincense-heavy air, ready to make more bargains with God when I pause. I am not alone.

I feel a draft, inhale a whiff of pine and rosemary. "Who's here? Show yourself."

Vlad Dracula rises from behind the altar. "Is this how a bride acts before a marriage is consummated?"

I sag against the pew, relief flooding my body. "Luigi della Scala is sinful."

Prince Vlad skews his lips into a half smile. "No one is without sin, my lady."

I rub my swollen eyes. "You don't understand. He prefers boys. I saw it. He wanted me to..." A fresh sob strangles my voice.

"That's the way of some men." Vlad walks toward me. "You're a good Christian. Practice mercy, forgiveness, and humility."

"You expect me to pray for his soul?" I sniff, wipe my dripping nose.

"Not at all. I loathe the man. I'm only reminding you of your Christian duty. I am neither a Catholic nor an especially pious Christian. I ascribe to a different code. One of loyalty, courage, and justice." Prince Vlad hands me a handkerchief. It smells of forest, spice, and rosemary. Just like him. He sets a soft hand on my damp cheek. "Tomorrow you start a new life. Be strong, Lady Ilona. Have faith." He kisses my hand, his eyes devouring mine with a raw intensity that leaves me breathless.

His kiss ribbons warmth up my arm and into my body. Hot tears stream down my cheeks for what will never be, for a love I will never know.

"Farewell, Prince Vlad." I withdraw my hand and walk to the door, then turn around. "You were in the labyrinth."

"I was." His voice holds no regret.

"You left the castle. Why?"

"I have allies to appease and enemies to crush." Vlad bends low. "Yar hamu-ka Liah."

"What does that mean?"

"May God have mercy on you."

#

My mouth is dry, my muscles tense, my body twitchy. I dread the ride to Genoa. Six armed guards will not protect me.

Della Scala sits beside me, our bodies separated by only the fur blankets covering our legs. If only I could build a wall between us with the food baskets stacked on the other side of the carriage. I turn my head from his onions-and-sweat stench to the open window.