Starling by Fiona Paul Page B

need of watering.
“We’re supposed to care for the plants too.” Seraphina fanned her
face with one hand. “But it looks like we’ve not been doing so well.”
She gathered her flowing skirts around her and sat on one of the
benches, indicating for Cass to sit across from her. “I know you didn’t
come to tour the house or talk about plants, though,” she said, her
voice dropping to a whisper. “Octavia says you can read and discuss
poetry. And if you’re indeed noble, then you already know how to
dance. So you want to know how to please a man, right? Is that it?”
Her green eyes glimmered in the sunlight.
Cass swallowed hard. She had never heard anyone speak so blatantly about such affairs, though part of her was exceedingly curious.
She thought both of Luca and Falco, of the different ways they had
touched her.
“It’s all right,” Seraphina said. “You needn’t be shy here, Capricia.” She paused. “Though some men do love the shy girls.”
“What else do they love?” Cass asked.
Seraphina watched a butterfly flit past before continuing. “All
right. Here is everything I know that matters. The men who come
here want to feel adored. Compliment them, listen to them when they
speak, act as if they are the most interesting beings you’ve ever encountered. Men want to feel powerful. Do not speak over them. Let
them act as if they are in charge of your time together.” She arched an
eyebrow. “Even though, of course it will always be you who is in
charge. Men want to feel desirable. Do things to them. Don’t just lie
    there and let them do things to you.”
“Do things?” Cass asked hesitantly.
Seraphina burst out laughing. “Aren’t you quite the innocent one
for having taken a lover who was not your betrothed?”
Mannaggia. Cass had forgotten all about her alleged infidelities.
“What I meant was—”
Seraphina waved her off. “I’ve seen it before. He’s the one who’s
taken a lover, isn’t he? He cast you out because he prefers her, and
you’re here trying to learn how to win him back.”
Cass had no idea how to respond to this, but luckily Seraphina
kept talking.
“You needn’t be embarrassed. If you like, I could find a peasant
boy or a street artist who might let us practice on him.” She grinned
wickedly. “The young men of Venice do enjoy assisting us in this
manner.”
Cass imagined Seraphina strolling out into the streets of Fondamenta delle Tette and returning with a willing Falco. Was that how
he had paid girls’ modeling fees? “No, I get the idea,” she said
quickly.
“If you’re scared or unsure, you can always follow their lead,”
Seraphina said. “But sometimes they’ve no idea what it is that they
want.”
The back door of Palazzo Dolce creaked open and an old woman
with snowy white hair and a stooped back entered the courtyard. She
wore deep burgundy skirts and a velvet hat crowned with a pair of
peacock feathers. She walked with a cane, one of her legs moving
stiffly beneath her wide skirts.
Cass rose from her bench to offer the old woman her seat, trying
not to stare at her misshapen fingers or the translucent folds of skin
that hung from her chin. It was clear from her high cheekbones and
delicate frame that she had been beautiful once, but those days were
long past. “What a lovely bracelet,” Cass said. The woman was wearing a circle of carved coral adorned with pearl and abalone that bore
a striking similarity to one of the bracelets in Agnese’s storage room.
The woman’s wrist was so frail that Cass swore she could see every
bone in her hand. The iridescent parts of the abalone glinted like
miniature rainbows in the sun.
“Hello, girls,” the woman said, motioning for Cass to sit back
down. “This bracelet was a gift from Paolo Veronese. One of my
favorite tokens of affection.”
Paolo Veronese had died when Cass was very young, but he had
been a very famous artist, and his works still decorated churches