Starling (148 page)

come for Cristian the day that Matteo had knocked him out. He was
in prison for life and would never hurt anyone again. That was what
mattered.
“I walked the ruins after the fire went out,” Falco continued. “I
could barely stand, or breathe, but I had to know if you were all right.
I saw the brigade remove two bodies—men, from the looks of it.” He
stepped closer to Cass, and she could smell a trace of paint on his
clothing. “But then I saw a pair of peasants fighting over a third body.
Smaller—a woman, burned beyond recognition. As I watched, one of
the peasants plucked a pendant from around her throat—a diamond.
So I thought—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
So Belladonna had worn Cass’s necklace after she stole it, and
Falco had presumed the burned body was Cass’s. “I was told four
bodies were recovered,” Cass said. “So
I
thought you . . .”
“Perhaps the courtesan’s body—”
“Of course.” It all made sense now. Cass hadn’t asked the woman
at the scene about the gender of the bodies removed. She had forgotten about Minerva. Belladonna and Piero must have still had her
body at the workshop.
“But I didn’t want to believe you were dead,” Falco continued.
“As soon as I regained my strength, I went to Palazzo Dolce. I figured
they would know for certain. But before I even made it to the door, I
saw you in the garden with your fiancé.” His brow furrowed. “The
two of you were playing with swords and daggers. It was the oddest
thing I’ve ever seen, I have to admit. But you looked so . . . blissful.
And I was blissful merely to see that you hadn’t perished. I thought
rather than once again intervene in your happiness that perhaps it
might be best to let you think me dead.”
“Falco.” Cass leaned in and embraced him, her lips brushing
against his cheek. “I am so glad that you’re alive.” She exhaled slowly.
“But as you said, Luca and I are happy. We’re to be married.”
“I heard. It’s the main reason I came here today,” Falco said. “I
just needed you to know how I felt—I didn’t want you to make any
rash decisions—”
“Rash decisions? I suppose I have made a few of those.” Cass took
Falco’s hands in her own. “You are—” Her voice cracked, and for a
moment she feared she might cry.
Inhale. Exhale.
She searched for
the right word. “Dazzling,” she said. Her lips slanted into a smile.
“Knowing you has been magical.”
“Starling. I—”
She touched a finger to his lips. “The thing is, I need more than
dazzling. I need trust. I need acceptance. I need love that never wavers.” Her voice softened. “I’m forever grateful that you didn’t die
because of me, but you and I, we’re not right for each other. At first I
thought we were. Neither of us wanted to be the person society
wanted us to be. But Luca doesn’t want me to be that person either.
He doesn’t want me to be anything, except for who I am.” Cass
thought of the way he had held her at Palazzo Dolce, the way he had
told her that her thoughts were her own, and that he would never
judge her by them.
“I know,” Falco said. His shoulders slumped forward a little, but
his expression didn’t change.
Cass continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Luca doesn’t care what I
think about science or religion or vampires. He accepts me as I am.
With you, I always felt like you wanted to change me. We spoke so
long ago of Michel de Montaigne, of how marriage was like a gilded