The Boy Who Wept Blood by Den Patrick Read Free Book Online Page A

hushed reverence upon each of them. Only Lady Stephania had lingered at the the centre of the cemetery to greet Anea, a retainer at each elbow. Stephania wore a gown of lavender silk with black lace detailing, the colours declaring her for House Prospero. A matching fan occupied her hand, poor insurance against the heat. Her hair was concealed beneath black gauze, suitably solemn for the occasion.
    ‘My Lady Diaspora.’ She bobbed a curtsey to Anea, her maid did the same. She’d taken on a personal messenger of late, an unsmiling man who sketched a deep bow.
    ‘Lord Erudito,’ said Stephania, another curtsey. Dino forced himself not to roll his eyes, the veneer of titles and dusty ceremony made his teeth ache.
    ‘My lady,’ he nodded, ‘Are you well, Stephania?’
    She favoured him with a smile from behind her fan. ‘Yes, my lord. Better than Angelicola at least.’
    Dino smiled. Perhaps Stephania wasn’t so dusty after all.
    The two women and Dino conversed as they approached the grave. Lady Stephania had taken pains to master the silent language the moment Anea and Dino had finished devising it. Booted feet crunched in the white gravel, the grass neatly trimmed on each side of the path. The oak and willow of the woodland behind the cemetery whispered and swayed while the sun maintained its golden vigil amid the clouds.
    ‘It’s strange to think he’s been living outside the castle walls this whole time. I’d not seen him since …’ Stephania trailed off, unsure how to finish.
    ‘Since he nearly lost his mind keeping the king’s unholy secret,’ said Dino. Anea glared at him.
    Virmyre stood with Russo, the Domina. Ten years ago they’d been the bright stars of the House Erudito. Now they were the right and left hand of the Silent Queen. Russo was dressed in deep scarlet, shunning the drab grey of the old Majordomo along with his title. She’d retained the staff associated with the office; hers was silver and unadorned. She was a striking woman, long-limbed and auburn-haired, lips painted a sombre purple.
    She looks especially sad today.
    Stephania nodded
    ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile,’ said Dino.
    Duchess Prospero, Stephania’s mother, fanned herself under a parasol, attended by her consort Guido, the capo de custodia. The capo had been in thrall to her mother for over a decade despite being a similar age to Stephania. It was widely agreed he was the most attractive and vapid man in Demesne. The capo smiled without humour, favouring Dino with an insincere salute. The Orfano stared back, returning neither. The duchess caught the men’s exchange and murmured to her consort, breaking the spell.
    Do not let the idiot rile you , signed Anea.
    ‘I like being riled.’
    Fine, but not today.
    Dino smiled, spotting Maestro Cherubini in the crowd. A heavy man, he dabbed at his brow with a purple kerchief, his teaching robes a burden in the heat. Cherubini nodded to Dino, a smile playing about his bow lips. Dino had grown up in the safe keeping of House Erudito, retaining the name even now. A childless bachelor, the maestro had always looked upon Dino as a favourite nephew.
    Sombre professori lurked behind the maestro , raven-like in black robes. Irritation and eccentricity spilled over into a rumble of complaint. There were new faces among the scholars that Dino didn’t recognise, something he’d need to remedy. Not that there was much chance of corruption or betrayal among the faculty; Anea was feted for her cerebral nature and for her fondness for education at all levels of society.
    Duke and Duchess Fontein were conspicuous by their absence. Petty breaches of etiquette were the favoured mode of protest of late, but to miss a funeral marked a new level of impertinence. They had sent their maid, Isabella, in their stead. The woman waited alone, face dour, clinging to her shawl despite the heat. The maestri di spada arrived, attending at Dino’s insistence. They were tardy but had