Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse by authors_sort
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to the Bridal Covenant."
Nicoletta stared up at her, her eyes huge on her face, not comprehending, unable to fully grasp what the older woman was saying. The Bridal Covenant. She had heard of it, of course; all the village women had.
As silly girls they had discussed the stories of the great and handsome aristocrazia emerging from his ornate palazzo and whisking one of the maidens off to a fairy-tale life of luxury and ease. Of course that lucky chosen one would soon marry off her friends to other young, handsome, rich noblemen. All of the surrounding villaggi and farms owing fidelity to the don had gladly participated in the Bridal Covenant; it was a cause for great festivity. All women of marriageable age had bathed and donned their finery, vying with outrageous flirtations to gain the attentions of the don of the palazzo.
But that was before they all came to believe in the curse. Before the Scarletti women, and even their attendants, began to die in bizarre accidents—or were so obviously murdered. Before the palazzo was named, in whispers, Palazzo della Morte. Palace of Death.
"He cannot do that," Nicoletta whispered, her hand going to her throat defensively. "He cannot."
"He goes to all the villaggi , as if to seek a bride."
Nicoletta rested her chin in her hand thoughtfully. "That he must do; he has no other choice. He cannot show preference beforehand. But it is another trap he seeks to catch me in." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "We must outsmart him once again, Maria Pia. I know we can do it. If it is not so, if it is not me he is seeking, then it will not matter what we do."
"You cannot think to be absent." Maria Pia looked shocked. No one could defy an order given by the don. The honor of the village was at stake. After many generations of the tradition, they could not fail to comply in presenting their maidens to the don.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Nicoletta said the necessary prayers over her food far too absently for Maria Pia's liking. The older woman rapped Nicoletta on the knuckles when she would have quickly broken the bread. Maria Pia recited very long prayers over the meal, and very devoutly. Nicoletta barely managed to stop herself from giggling like Ketsia.
"This is no laughing matter, Nicoletta. I believe the current don had no intention of enforcing the Bridal Covenant. It has been two generations since one of our girls was demanded. Don Giovanni Scarletti has given no hint of such a thing, and his decision was so swift, no one has had time to adequately prepare for it."
"I agree," Nicoletta said calmly. She knew it without Maria Pia's observations. The raven had warned her of danger coming. She felt the danger. "He is looking for me." She broke off a small piece of cheese and slipped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "He is still not certain. That is why he used the demand of the brides. All eligible women are commanded to show themselves, but he does not have to choose. He can return year after year and never actually make a selection."
"Perhaps he is like a fisherman without a hook." Maria Pia began to relax. "Perhaps we can manage to outthink him after all."
"He has a hook," Nicoletta admitted at last. She glanced at Maria Pia, then averted her eyes, ashamed she had not confessed immediately. "There is the blood of the villaggio running in his veins. He is also different. I know that he is."
Maria Pia gasped and crossed herself, rushing to the shrine of the great Madonna to light several candles. After she had prayed avidly, she swung around. "How is he different'?" She dared Nicoletta to keep any more information from her.
"I cannot explain to you even how I am different. Only I know things I should not, I feel illness when I touch people, and a warmth rises in me to heal them. I know how to mix herbs into medicines, and I know which mixture will help when I touch the ailing one, but I cannot explain how.
Nicoletta stared up at her, her eyes huge on her face, not comprehending, unable to fully grasp what the older woman was saying. The Bridal Covenant. She had heard of it, of course; all the village women had.
As silly girls they had discussed the stories of the great and handsome aristocrazia emerging from his ornate palazzo and whisking one of the maidens off to a fairy-tale life of luxury and ease. Of course that lucky chosen one would soon marry off her friends to other young, handsome, rich noblemen. All of the surrounding villaggi and farms owing fidelity to the don had gladly participated in the Bridal Covenant; it was a cause for great festivity. All women of marriageable age had bathed and donned their finery, vying with outrageous flirtations to gain the attentions of the don of the palazzo.
But that was before they all came to believe in the curse. Before the Scarletti women, and even their attendants, began to die in bizarre accidents—or were so obviously murdered. Before the palazzo was named, in whispers, Palazzo della Morte. Palace of Death.
"He cannot do that," Nicoletta whispered, her hand going to her throat defensively. "He cannot."
"He goes to all the villaggi , as if to seek a bride."
Nicoletta rested her chin in her hand thoughtfully. "That he must do; he has no other choice. He cannot show preference beforehand. But it is another trap he seeks to catch me in." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "We must outsmart him once again, Maria Pia. I know we can do it. If it is not so, if it is not me he is seeking, then it will not matter what we do."
"You cannot think to be absent." Maria Pia looked shocked. No one could defy an order given by the don. The honor of the village was at stake. After many generations of the tradition, they could not fail to comply in presenting their maidens to the don.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Nicoletta said the necessary prayers over her food far too absently for Maria Pia's liking. The older woman rapped Nicoletta on the knuckles when she would have quickly broken the bread. Maria Pia recited very long prayers over the meal, and very devoutly. Nicoletta barely managed to stop herself from giggling like Ketsia.
"This is no laughing matter, Nicoletta. I believe the current don had no intention of enforcing the Bridal Covenant. It has been two generations since one of our girls was demanded. Don Giovanni Scarletti has given no hint of such a thing, and his decision was so swift, no one has had time to adequately prepare for it."
"I agree," Nicoletta said calmly. She knew it without Maria Pia's observations. The raven had warned her of danger coming. She felt the danger. "He is looking for me." She broke off a small piece of cheese and slipped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "He is still not certain. That is why he used the demand of the brides. All eligible women are commanded to show themselves, but he does not have to choose. He can return year after year and never actually make a selection."
"Perhaps he is like a fisherman without a hook." Maria Pia began to relax. "Perhaps we can manage to outthink him after all."
"He has a hook," Nicoletta admitted at last. She glanced at Maria Pia, then averted her eyes, ashamed she had not confessed immediately. "There is the blood of the villaggio running in his veins. He is also different. I know that he is."
Maria Pia gasped and crossed herself, rushing to the shrine of the great Madonna to light several candles. After she had prayed avidly, she swung around. "How is he different'?" She dared Nicoletta to keep any more information from her.
"I cannot explain to you even how I am different. Only I know things I should not, I feel illness when I touch people, and a warmth rises in me to heal them. I know how to mix herbs into medicines, and I know which mixture will help when I touch the ailing one, but I cannot explain how.
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