TWENTY-FOUR
Layers of undergarments, caged within a farthingale, and still, Sophia felt exposed under Oriana’s intense scrutiny. Her sister sat sullenly on the floor, watching in silence as Viviana and Lia assembled Sophia’s evening attire upon her inert body.
“You always get to do everything,” Oriana whined, pouting like a child.
All day, Sophia had suffered the angst of nervous anticipation as yet another evening with Pasquale approached, another evening in the company of a man who thought of her as an investment, a vehicle to further his interests and ambitions. Her sister’s ill-conceived comment stoked the fire of her burning discontent like a bucketful of lantern oil.
She flung herself from the confines of the women’s ministrations and stomped toward Oriana. “You ungrateful, selfi
