That didnt concern Isabel, though, and Oriana didnt blame her. Mistresses had no reason to concern themselves with the fate of servants they left behind. Isabel was busy planning her marriage and her future; it would only spoil her enjoyment to hear her companion fretting about her own predicament. But without a letter of reference, Oriana was going to have difficulty finding a new position.
Because shed not yet had her webbing cut away, her initial assignment in the city had been trivial. The sereia spymaster in the Golden City, Heriberto, had grudgingly taken her on, but hed done little to help her. Oriana had managed to secure a position in a dress shop on her own, one favored by less-wealthy members of the aristocracy. Shed listened to the gossip of the ladies as they came in for their fittings, reporting back to her master on which of them might be sympathetic to nonhumans and welcome their return to the Golden City. When Isabela regular customer at that shophad offered Oriana a position in her household, it had been a step up, with greater access to the aristocracy. It had been a coup for a spy whose master insisted on treating her like an untested child.
Now it would be back to the cramped dressmakers shop on Esperança Street, or possibly even home to the islands to wait for another assignment. She would simply have to see what Heriberto ordered. Oriana sniffled and snatched up the handkerchief off her nightstand. This was no time to feel sorry for herself. She would have to press on. She would reschedule her appointment with the doctor. The webbing was sensitive, and its absence would leave her hands with phantom pain for the rest of her life. Nevertheless, if she was going to be useful to her people, she needed to get it cut away.
She had little left of the things that had been important to her as a child. Her mother had died when Oriana was only twelve. Four years later her father had been exiled for sedition. Oriana had never learned exactly what hed done or said, but hed been raised by an indulgent mother whod taught her only child that he was the equal of any woman on the islands. Unlike most males, hed even been educated. Orianas mother had been proud of her clever mate, no matter his tendency to defy convention. But his political beliefs had clashed with almost everything the government held true, and after his exile Oriana had been left alone to care for her younger sister, Marina. They had aunts whod taken them in, but werent ever close to them. Citing Orianas natural talent for calling , those aunts had pushed her relentlessly
to join the Ministry of Intelligence, claiming again and again that it was her Destiny to serve her people. Oriana had refused.
Until three years ago. When Oriana was away visiting their paternal grandmother on the island of Amado, Marina had run away to search for their father. Somewhere along her path to Portugal, she had fallen prey to a merchant ships crew.
Oriana wiped away a tear with the back of one hand. That had been her failure. Marina hadnt been happy living with their aunts on the island of Quitos, but Oriana hadnt believed she would take such a desperate step to escape them. Her parents would have expected Oriana to keep Marina safe, but she hadnt.
After Marinas death, Oriana had given in, joining the ministry. Shed hoped to protect her people from the threat of subjugation under human rule. Shed also hoped to extract a small amount of vengeance, but never learned anything further of her sisters death. The humans shed met in the past two years had turned out to be no worse than her own people. And shed seen no firm indication that Prince Fabricio intended to seize control over her peoples islands anytime soon. There were rumors, of coursethose were as commonplace as seagullsjust no proof.
But Prince Fabricio had acted against her peoples interests in the past. The prince had several seers in his entourage, whose words purportedly ruled many of his actions. One of them had prophesied that the prince would be killed by one of the sea folkthe sereia, the selkies, or the otterfolkand fear of that had led the prince to ban all nonhumans from the shores of Northern Portugal decades before, when Oriana was just a child. That decree had cut her people off from their primary trading partner and crippled their economy. Many of their people had lost their property and their livelihoods. And because of that same ban, Oriana now wore mitts that pinched her webbing, and high collars on even the hottest days.
It was simply the price she had to pay. Determined to squarely face whatever chapter lay ahead in her life, Oriana rose and set about the business at hand: packing. As her presence was meant to lend Isabel countenance in this ramshackle flight, she needed to look severe but ignorable. That wouldnt be difficult. She didnt have Isabels beauty to catch male eyes, and once she was mentally classified as a servant, most people dismissed her from their minds.
That had been helpful over the past year. Her dark eyes were larger than most humans. Her brown hair, when dry, had a non-Portuguese reddish cast that prompted the maids to whisper that shed suffered a mishap involving tincture of henna. Those things would have drawn curious eyes if she were a lady, but for a mere companion no one took note. She faded away.