Excerpts

From Page 1:

     The first person to look inside my heart, to really see me, was a monk. He came to teach me how to play the harpsichord, and when he heard my voice rise above the chords, he put his hands over his face and wept.
     I was eleven. Chubbier then. My hair was covered in a white scarf, and the gray smock I wore chafed my breasts. My mother and Father Zachary, the priest who acted as my patron, were drinking coffee in the garden. Father Zachary always waited while the tutors he had hired gave me music lessons.
     When I saw the monk wipe the tears from his round face, I stopped singing. My heart pounded and my cheeks burned. Resting my hands in my lap, I spoke softly. "My song displeases you?"
     The monk raised his watery eyes, then brushed his cheek with the sleeve of his brown robe. "Dangerous," he whispered.
     "What is dangerous?" I asked.
     "Your voice." He spoke with closed eyes. "You are a child...but you sing with a woman's voice. It's unsettling...disturbing."

From Page 35:

     "Who is he?" Lucia stood peeking through the shutter. "The one who gazes up like a sad puppy, waiting for your songs. He carries a sketchbook."
     "Probably a French artist," I replied. "The king of France sent sixteen young sculptors to study Rome’s masterpieces, to duplicate them for his court, and their workshop is just across the street."
     "Fiery eyes, black curls, strong arms." She swooned, dancing her hips side to side. "And his eyes light up whenever you sing."
     Bianca looked up from her prayers. "Mother would never allow an artist to court my sister."
     "Some things are worth risking your mother’s scorn." Lucia motioned me towards the window. "At least take a peek through the shutters."
     I stood behind Lucia, staring over her shoulder.
     "See? Isn't he handsome?"

From Page 184:

     "Do you still care for Theodon, Miss, now that you are a lady?"
     "Yes...I believe so."
     "Hardly convincing, that reply," Lucia told me in her frank way.
     Here the words came flooding out of me, and I told her what I'd not yet admitted to myself. "I do not know Theodon...not really. Not in the way a girl who is deciding her future must know a man. Is he a man of his word? How am I to know if he is the sort to be content as a husband? Secrets, notes, and sketches...that is all I know of him."
     Lucia started to speak, but I cut her off. "And yet I’ve used what little I know of him to chart my own course."
     Lucia smiled. "Sometimes, Miss, I think you expect to know the future before you live it. You can be sure he’s a risk, but not so much of one as the nobles and gents who have made a game of your talent. Has he once given you a sign he’s not to be trusted?"
     I shook my head.
     "Has he made your heart brim with happiness until it spilled into your songs?"
     I nodded.
     "What’s to be done, then, Miss, by turning your heart cold to him? You’ll not win back your mother’s love, if that’s what fills your mind, not unless you are also willing to marry the husband she chooses. That’s the bargain she’ll make of your future, and, you can be sure, your mother could out bargain the devil...."

From Page 192:

     [Mariuccia] "I almost suspect it is true what the others say - that you act as the queen’s spy."
     I shook my head. "I sing as she wishes. That is all."
     "That is not all." Shedding her smile, Mariuccia lowered her voice. "How quickly innocence becomes ignorance if one pretends not to see the truth of this life we lead."
     "What do you mean?"
     "Do you know what power is?"
     "Wealth...rank."
     "There are many with wealth and rank." She spoke in a callous tone. "But few with so much power as the queen. Power is the ability to decide for yourself and live by your decisions. You and I will never have that power, Angelica. You believe that your talent is power, but that’s not true. You might even think that by your gifted voice, you can decide your own future, but you are wrong. The queen decides for us. Never forget that. Your loyalty to the queen is honorable, Angelica, but you must serve the queen with open eyes. Queen Christina uses everyone to one purpose or another. She uses you."
     "Say no more."
     Mariuccia ignored me. "For now, you have earned your place as the queen’s favorite. No doubt Her Majesty praises you, makes you feel chosen by your talent. But your talent earns you enemies. Queen Christina is your patron, not your friend. I am your friend. Remember that. And mark my works, these are difficult times. The pope is growing impatient to control this quarter. You’ll need a friend someday."
     Then, standing quickly, Mariuccia slipped into her room, leaving me alone. As I stared into the darkness, I trembled from her words. I could see already that there was room in this world for more than one truth. And I could also see that I would have to be careful. I passed a fretful night, kept wide awake thinking on a future that offered up no certainty.