What The House Hides
1016 Words
Isabella’s POV
Alessandro did not walk me back to my room after the ball.
He stopped in the hallway and looked down at me like he was deciding whether I was a problem or a mistake.
“You did better than expected,” he said.
“That sounds like an insult,” I replied.
“It is not praise,” he said.
“Then I will take it as survival.”
He studied my face. “You enjoyed provoking them.”
“They provoked me first.”
“You do not understand how dangerous that is.”
“I understand enough,” I said. “They smiled while judging me.”
“They always do,” he replied. “That is how men like them kill.”
I crossed my arms. “Then why bring me out at all?”
“Because hiding you would look weak,” he said.
“And showing me looks brave,” I said. “Or careless.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement. Brief. Gone.
“You ask too many questions,” he said.
I wanted to ask him why he cared so much about me, but the words got stuck. His stare made my stomach twist. Was he angry? Worried? Or just bored? I could not tell, and that made it worse.
“You married the wrong woman,” I replied.
He stepped closer. “Do not forget where you are.”
“I know exactly where I am,” I said. “In the house of people who pretend to be calm while planning war.”
Silence stretched.
“You will stay in your room tomorrow,” he said. “No wandering.”
“Am I grounded?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
I smiled. “That is almost normal.”
He turned away before I could say more.
Elena was waiting near the stairs.
“You survived the lions,” she said.
“Barely,” I replied. “They bite with words.”
“They bite worse when bored,” she said. “You gave them something new to talk about.”
“That was not my goal.”
“It never is,” she said. “Yet here we are.”
We walked together in silence for a while.
“Why do you stay so quiet?” I asked her.
She glanced at me. “Quiet keeps you alive.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It is,” she said. “But loud people disappear here.”
I thought of my outburst in Father Angelo’s study. I thought of how Alessandro had looked at me then.
“I do not know how to be quiet,” I admitted.
She smiled slightly. “Then learn when to be loud.”
Lucia was not in my room when I returned.
That was the first thing that felt wrong.
Lucia was always there.
I waited.
Minutes passed.
Then she slipped inside, her face pale.
“You were watched,” she whispered.
“By who?” I asked.
“Everyone,” she said. “They are asking questions.”
“About what?” I asked.
“About your family,” she replied. “About what you remember.”
I sat down slowly. “And what did you say?”
“That you remember very little,” she said. “That grief makes memories blur.”
“That was smart,” I said.
She shook her head. “It was not enough.”
That night, sleep came late.
The next days moved strangely.
Servants acted kinder than before. Too kind.
Food arrived untouched. Doors opened without knocks.
I felt eyes on me everywhere.
Elena warned me to speak less.
Alessandro barely looked at me. When he did, his gaze stayed too long.
On the fourth day after the ball, I was summoned again. This time, it was not Alessandro.
It was Vittorio.
The servant would not meet my eyes. I followed anyway.
I walked to the study slowly. Every step felt loud, echoing through the empty halls. I wanted to run, but I knew I could not. I straightened my shoulders and tried to look brave, even though my hands were shaking.
Vittorio’s study was smaller than Alessandro’s but heavier. The air felt thick.
“You are becoming a topic,” Vittorio said.
“I did not choose that,” I replied.
“No one ever does,” he said. “Power chooses you.”
“I have no power,” I said.
He smiled. “That is what makes you interesting.”
He poured himself a drink. “Alessandro believes control comes from fear.”
“And you believe something else,” I said.
“I believe loyalty is stronger,” he replied. “And loyalty is earned.”
“I do not think you want mine,” I said.
“I want your silence,” he replied. “For now.”
“About what?” I asked. Silence. The word felt heavy. My mind raced with questions. What did he want me to keep quiet about?
“About what you hear,” he said. “About what you may notice.”
My stomach tightened. “You assume a lot.”
“I assume you are smarter than you act,” he said.
I stood. “I should leave.”
He nodded. “Think carefully, Isabella Romano.”
That name again.
When I returned to my room, Lucia was packing.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She froze. “They are moving me.”
“Where?” I demanded.
“I do not know,” she said. “Another wing.”
“Who ordered it?”
She hesitated. “Vittorio.”
My chest tightened.
“They are separating us,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied. “That is never good.”
She left before I could stop her.
That night, a note appeared under my door.
The ink was fresh.
The past does not stay buried forever.
I stared at the words until my hands shook.
Someone knew.
And they were getting closer.
- Writer
