My first dinner at my family home lasted over an hour in a surprisingly calm and relaxed atmosphere. I guess, mostly because auntie Assunta wasn't there – eventually she decided to use one of her old well-tried tactics and locked herself up in hope that'd make us feel guilty. Bet that our laughing and fragments of lively conversation from the dining room ruined her plans. I only worried if she had already shared her suspicions with Ricardo.

The table was set for two. The porcelain and silver gleamed in the candlelight. The decanter was full of precious garnet-dark, almost violet wine. Two footmen dressed in the same livery and red stockings came out of thin air from time to time to bring in another dish or change the candles and then disappeared again.

The food on the plates and saucers looked delicious, but I was still a bit of a seagull, so the smell of roasted meat and stewed vegetables made me sick. I wish I could dive into the canal, grab the slimy silver fish and eat it with the bones. Alas, that was the downside of the Pulcino connection. Every gift is a double-edged sword.

Ricardo poured me more wine and smiled.

"I can't even remember the last time when we were having dinner like this. Can you? Wasn't it the day our father and I came to the estate on your nameday?"

Though there was a smile on his face, I could see the tension around his eyes and lips. And that meant that donna Assunta hadn't missed her chance to tattle on me to my brother.

I smiled back while slicing the crumbly cheese into small pieces.

"Of course I remember. Your father wanted to leave you with us for a while. But you were impossible! First you escaped from the coach and climbed up a tree. Then you tried to ride dad's horse and mother said she wouldn't survive two crazy kids at once."

Ricardo laughed but then looked sad.

"I really should have taken more care of you and our mother. Should have visited you more often. It's just I'm head over ears in work, you know. But don't worry. Things will be different now, I promise."

I blushed and for some reason plopped a handful of watercress into my plate, which I actually hate. Rico's words touched me. But I couldn't help wondering if there was a kind of relief in his voice.

"You'll like it here, in Venetta, I'm sure," Rico continued while cutting a slice of ham. "Tomorrow we'll have a trip on the canals. You can ask Fabrizio at any time you want. And in two weeks time, there will be a great feast in honor of the Exile Day! I'll show you the Doge's Palace, we can go to the fair and watch gondola races on the Grand Canal in the evening..."

"Will they let us on the Bucentoro?"

The Bucentoro was a ceremonial gilded galley. Every year the Doge threw a golden ring into the waves to seal the bonds between the city and the sea. Only a few noble patricians were allowed and the rest had to enjoy the ceremony from afar. The custom began three hundred years ago when the sea protected Venetta from invasion of The Fiesians and it had been strictly enforced ever since, in spite of some jokes about the Doge and his ever-youthful, treacherous mistress, the widow of a succession of Venetian rulers. Of all the amusements to come on the Exile Day, the betrothal ceremony interested me most.

"I hope everything'll go well," I said thoughtfully, twirling my dessert spoon.

"Yes, don Lorenzo – the present Doge – is old and deaf as a post, but I hope he will have the strength to go up and make a speech," Ricardo said carelessly. "Although some of the senators are already trying on his golden cap, I've noticed that people in positions of power tend to have a lot of stamina, so Augustino Lorenzo will have to fight. Yes, and he usually stalls only when it is good for him."

It wasn't the Doge's health that worried me, but something else, and I didn't argue. Now I could see the sandbanks of Dito island... a place where the murky green water of the lagoon mingled with the waves of the sea. The golden feather of Bucentoro galley looks like a little fluff on the icy palm of the Long Sea, ready to clench into a fist at any moment. Some people considered the Exile ceremony a symbol of our mastery of the sea, but I knew how illusive and inconsequential that "mastery" was. The sea is like an enormous indifferent creature which sleeps soundly under the sky blanket, but once it shows its teeth, we all will be swept off the ground likeso much flotsam.

Rico's words reminded me of the time. The day fixed for the execution of my plans was approaching. I had to find someone knowledgeable in astronomy to confirm the dates. And I made a firm decision to avoid my wedding by all means. I liked Enrique very much, and I would not wish to cause him such grief by leaving him a widower.

Because, that's why I was here. I came to Venetta to die.