“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Ignoring his daughters, Governor Dragna reached a gloved hand toward Julian. He wore his plum-colored gloves, the shade of dark bruises and power.
But at least he still had the gloves on. The picture of civility, Governor Dragna liked to dress impeccably, in a tailored black frock coat and striped purple waistcoat. He was in his mid-forties but he’d not let his body turn to fat like other men. Keeping with the latest fashion, he kept his blond hair tied back with a neat black bow, showing off his manicured eyebrows and dark blond goatee.
Julian was taller, yet the governor still managed to look down upon him. Scarlett could see her father appraising the sailor’s patched brown coat, and his loose breeches tucked into scuffed, knee-high boots.
It said much about Julian’s confidence that he didn’t hesitate before offering the governor his own, ungloved hand. “Good to meet you, sir. Julian Marrero.”
“Governor Marcello Dragna.” The men shook hands. Julian attempted to pull away, but the governor held on tight. “Julian, you must not be from this isle?”
This time, Julian did hesitate. “No, sir, I’m a sailor. First mate of El Beso Dorado.”
“So, you’re only passing through.” The governor smiled. “We like sailors here. It helps our economy. People are willing to pay a lot to dock here, and they spend more money while they visit. Now, tell me, what did you think of my rum?” He waved his free hand around the barrel room. “I imagine that’s what you were down here tasting?”
When Julian didn’t answer right away the governor pressed harder. “Was it not to your liking?”
“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir,” Julian corrected. “Everything I’ve tried is very good.”
“Including my daughters?”
Scarlett tensed.
“I can smell from your breath you weren’t sipping any rum,” said Governor Dragna. “And I know you weren’t down here playing cards or saying prayers. So tell me, which of my daughters were you tasting?”
“Oh, no, sir. You have it wrong.” Julian shook his head, eyes widening as if he would never do something so dishonorable.
“It was Scarlett,” Tella broke in. “I came down here and caught them in the act.”
No. Scarlett cursed her foolish sister. “Father, she’s lying. It was Tella, not me. I’m the one who caught them.”
Tella’s face blazed red. “Scarlett, don’t lie. You’ll only make this worse.”
“I’m not lying! Father, it was Tella. Do you think I’d really do something like this, weeks before my wedding?”
“Father, don’t listen to her,” Tella interrupted. “I heard her whispering about how she thought it would help with her nerves before the wedding.”
“That’s another lie—”
“Enough!” The governor turned to Julian, whose brown hand was still firmly grasped in his perfumed plum glove. “My daughters have the bad habit of being dishonest, but I’m sure you’ll be more forthcoming. Now, tell me, young man, which of my daughters were you down here with?”
“I think there’s been some sort of mistake—”
“I don’t make mistakes,” Governor Dragna cut him off. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me the truth, or—” The governor’s guards each took a step forward.
Julian’s eyes darted to Tella.
With a sharp shake of her head, Tella mouthed the name: Scarlett.
Scarlett tried to grab Julian’s attention, tried to tell him he was making a mistake, but she could see the resolve in the sailor’s face even before he answered. “It was Scarlett.”
Reckless boy. He no doubt believed he was doing Tella a favor, when he was doing quite the opposite.
The governor released Julian, and removed his perfumed plum gloves. “I warned you about this,” he said to Scarlett. “You know what happens when you disobey.”
“Father, please, it was only a very brief kiss.” Scarlett tried to step in front of Tella, but a guard pulled Scarlett back toward the barrels, grabbing her roughly by the elbows and yanking them behind her, as she fought to protect her sister. For it wasn’t Scarlett who would be punished for this crime. Every time Scarlett or her sister disobeyed, Governor Dragna did something awful to the other as punishment.
On his right hand, the governor wore two large rings, a square amethyst and a sharply pointed purple diamond. He twisted both of these around his fingers, then he pulled his hand back and struck Tella across the face.
“Don’t! I’m the one to blame!” Scarlett screamed—a mistake she knew better than to make.
Her father struck Tella once more. “For lying,” he said. The second blow was harder than the first, knocking Tella to her knees as streams of red poured down her cheek.
Satisfied, Governor Dragna stepped back. He wiped the blood from his hand on one of his guard’s vests. Then he turned to Scarlett. Somehow he appeared taller than before, while Scarlett felt as if she had wilted in size. There was nothing her father could do that hurt her more than watching him hit her sister. “Don’t disappoint me again.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I made a foolish mistake.” It was the truest thing she’d said all morning. She might not have been the one Julian had tasted, but once again she had failed to protect her sister. “I won’t repeat it.”
“I hope you mean that.” The governor put his gloves back on, then reached into his frock coat and retrieved a folded letter. “I probably shouldn’t give this to you, but maybe it will remind you of everything you have to lose. Your wedding will be ten days from today, at the end of next week, on the twentieth. If anything gets in the way of it, more than your sister’s face will bleed.”
3
Scarlett could still smell her father’s perfume. It smelled like the color of his gloves: anise and lavender and something akin to rotted plums. It stayed with her long after he left, hovering in the air around Tella while Scarlett sat by her side, waiting for a maid to bring clean bandages and medicinal supplies.
“You should have let me tell the truth,” Scarlett said. “He’d not have hit me this badly to punish you. Not with my wedding in ten days.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t have struck your face, but he’d have done something else just as vicious—broken a finger so you couldn’t finish your wedding quilt.” Tella closed her eyes and leaned back against a barrel of rum. Her cheek was now almost the color of her father’s wretched gloves. “And I’m the one who deserved to be hit, not you.”
“No one deserves this,” Julian said. It was the first time he’d spoken since their father left. “I’m—”
“Don’t,” Scarlett cut in. “Your apology will not heal her wounds.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize.” Julian paused, as if weighing his next words. “I’m changing my offer about taking you both from the isle. I’ll do it for free, if you decide you want to leave. My ship sets off from port tomorrow at dawn. Come find me if you change your mind.” He divided a look between Scarlett and Tella before he disappeared up the stairs.
“No,” Scarlett said, sensing what Tella wanted before she said any words aloud. “If we leave, things will be worse when we return.”
“I don’t plan on returning.” Tella opened her eyes. They were watery but fierce.
Scarlett was often annoyed by how impulsive her younger sister was, but she also knew that when Tella finally set her mind to a plan, there was no changing it. Scarlett realized Tella had made her decision even before the letter from Caraval Master Legend arrived. That’s why she’d been with Julian. From the way she’d ignored him as he’d left, it was obvious she didn’t care about him. She just wanted a sailor who could take her away from Trisda. And now Scarlett had given her the reason she needed to leave.
“Scar, you should come too,” Tella said. “I know you think your marriage is going to save and protect you, but what if the count is as bad as Father, or worse?”