Mi Adelinetta // the young elites

Gemma

It was a warm winter when the blood fever struck.

Gemma had been six then, still spoiled and young enough that she didn't remember the worst of it. Her mother died in the first week; her funeral was quiet, hidden from the public's eye. Even then, Baron Salvatore had been a shrewd politician, keenly aware of the disadvantage he was left at: he was a widower and had a malfetto daughter.

Before the fever, Gemma's father had been a close friend to the king. It wasn't uncommon for him to be found at the palace, drinking himself stupid in the king's parlor or seducing the court ladies. But after his wife's death, he became secluded, the visits becoming infrequent and his attention focused on his daughter.

At first, he hated Gemma. Hated the deep purple markings she bore, hated the face that reminded him of his wife. He blamed her for his death and doled out generous beatings in fits of rage, then his mood would change and he'd apologize for existing. This continued for months—on her tenth birthday, she called a wolf during a routine walk and Baron Salvatore still bore the scars.

He sobered after that. Learned to cope with the loss. He turned his attention towards his stables of pedigree racehorses and showered Gemma with gifts, as if to say I'm sorry when words could not. She accepted them. Gemma would not hold grudges.

When the malfetto hunts began, Gemma learned to control her powers. Wolf girl, the servants called her, for the grey wolf that accompanied Gemma everywhere. If they noticed her powers, they were silent. Baron Salvatore paid well, and it would take more than a few gold talents for their secrets.

But gold talents weren't enough when the Inquisition visited, and they rapped their bloody knuckles on the doors of the manor. There was no stopping them—tens of malfettos burned every day. But Gemma remained unaware. Gilded bars were fitted over her windows so she might never see outside and she spent her days playing school with her nursemaid.

Carina had been born in a small town near Dalia. As Gemma learned, Carina's father was  a traveling musician and was never present in her childhood. Her mother raised her alone, and when she passed, Carina came to Estenzia in search of work. Her first job, a dock worker, had left her with a twisted leg after an accident. Baron Salvatore later hired the young woman to raise Gemma when he could not.

On Gemma's twelfth birthday, Carina disappeared.

The servants talked. The Inquisition, they whispered. They'll burn her.

"What's the Inquisition?" Gemma asked Baron Salvatore.

He smoothed her hair and hugged her tight against his chest. "Don't worry about them," he said.

"Why will they burn Carina?" Gemma asked.

"They won't," Baron Salvatore said.

Gemma nodded and returned to her toys. She didn't recognize the maid bringing her breakfast the next day, nor the maid who came to help her dress.

"Where's Carina?" Gemma asked.

They averted their eyes. Daniel was the new stablehand. When she asked, he peered at her from beyond his copper fringe.

"Why do you want to know, young miss?"

"Carina is my friend."

"She's a malfetto."

"So am I."

Daniel sighed. Gemma returned to the stables the next morning.

"Take me to see Carina."

Daniel frowned. "You shouldn't watch, little miss."

"Take me to see Carina."

There was a pyre in the city square. Gemma had never seen one before—she pushed through the crowd for a better view. When Carina appeared between two soldiers, Gemma jumped and waved her arms.

"Carina!"

The nursemaid's eyes met Gemma's, and they were full of fear. "Turn away, Gemma," she said.

The fire was lit, and Carina screamed and screamed. Gemma's ears rang and her stomach roiled uneasily.

"You shouldn't have watched, little miss," Daniel said.

Gemma stared at the men in white robes. They were the Inquisition. They wanted her dead.