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“I’d like to say something to the Finestra first,” Ivini said.
“Haven’t you said enough?” Alessa said.
Renata squeezed, hard.
He’d won. What else could he want? To accuse heragain? Demand Kaleb dance for them to prove he was truly alive?
Ivini’s face sagged with anguish, and he dropped to his knees. Behind him, robed figures followed suit, heads bowed. “Finestra. Can you ever forgive me for casting aspersions on you? Truly, I only hoped to serve Dea. It’s clear now that Crollo saw your incredible potential, the gift that is your strength, and he cowered in fear. Sending one of his minions to hobble you only proves your worthiness. I should have had faith. I should have known. I am so deeply sorry. If you banish me, I will go tonight.”
Renata spoke before Alessa could tell him to leap from the nearest cliff. “That won’t be necessary, Padre. After all, to err is human.”
“To forgive, divine,” Ivini breathed. “Finestra, can you ever forgive me?”
The answer was no. Definitely not. But Renata was clever, and she had a plan. Alessa didn’t know what it was, but she wouldn’t risk ruining it.
Alessa gave her nemesis the widest, most painful smile of her life. “Crollo has made fools of manybettermen than you. What kind of Finestra would I be to punish a holy man trying to protect his people?”
Damn him, Ivini wept.
Every fake tear that rolled down his face stoked her fury higher, but she had to credit his acting skills.
Ivini didn’t want forgiveness. He wanted power. He’d positioned himself against her when she was failing, kicked her when she was down, conspired against her and stolen her own guards’ loyalty. Now that she had a Fonte, alive, Ivini had found a scapegoat. And so, her greatest foe stepped into his new role as her staunch defender and humble supplicant. Whatever it took.
No more assassinations. No more poison. She had a way out, and Ivini realigned himself with a new cause to rally his sheep.
The drill sergeant shouted a command, and the troops snapped to attention with a deafening clamor. In perfect, regimented symmetry, Alessa’s army took a knee, fists thumping against their chests.
This time, everyone looked directly at her.
“Congratulations, Finestra.” Renata spoke for Alessa’s ears alone. “They love you. They’ll fight to the death for you. Andthatis how you win a war.”
At what cost?
“Win the battle, and all is forgiven. You’ve never been more powerful,” Renata said. “Your people will do anything you ask of them.”
“I want him freed.”
Renata released her arm. “Anything but that.”
Forty-Two
Ciò che Dio fa è ben fatto.
Each day brings its own bread.
DAYS BEFORE DIVORANDO: 11
“I demand to see him,” Alessa said the moment they were inside.
Renata shushed her viciously, but she wouldn’t be silenced, not with Dante’s life on the line.
“Will you stop and think, for once?” Renata had never looked so old. “Your Fonte is bedridden, and the people need to believe everything is going according to plan. Ivini plays this city like a fiddle and he’s publicly declared himself on your side. Don’t squander that gift.”
“She’s right,” said Tomo. “You can’t be suspected of sympathizing with him.”
“You know he wasn’t responsible for my dead Fontes. You know he isn’t evil. Without him, I’d be dead a half dozen times over. This isn’t fair.”
“You’ve made it this far without realizing life never is?” Renata’s eyes softened.
