The only male company I've been allowed since I turned thirteen were potential suitors. I've met them all - the old, the rich, the beautiful, and ugly - inside and out. Out of all the men I met, my parents will pick one. He will put his ring on my finger whether I like it or not, and I will be forced to say I do. No arguing. From one gilded cage to the next.
"Marzia?" My handmaid, Lucia, appears in the door frame with a forever meek expression, just like every other woman in this house. "Your parents are ready for you now."
I nod, running the silver hairbrush through my dark locks one last time before setting it down on my vanity table. The girl in the mirror stares back at me, beautiful, and empty.
I pick myself up and smooth down the perfectly conservative dress I'm forced to wear. I haven't worn a pair of pants since I was a little girl. It's just not proper for a girl like me.
Any other girl would be excited by the thought of her eighteenth birthday, yet I lived in fear of mine. But now that it's here, the sinking feeling in my stomach has hit rock bottom. I'll be lavished with expensive gifts. A party will be announced. And then I'll be forced to marry the man my parents picked for me.
I walk down the stairs, surprising Lucia as I descend them. She stumbles back to give a respectful bow, but accidentally bumps into a vase on the console table she was dusting. The vase falls, shattering on the hardwood floor.
There's a moment of deathly silence followed by Lucia's sob as she throws herself to the ground, gathering the shards with shaky fingers.
"Lucia, leave it, please," I beg her. "You'll cut yourself, you're shaking."
"T-That vase was priceless, signorina," she manages, her voice trembling as badly as her fingers. "Y-Your father... he'll-"
"He won't do anything," I reassure her. "Just calm down and-"
"What's all this commotion about?" She gasps lightly as we raise our heads, seeing my father standing impatiently at the foot of the stairs. "What happened here?"
"Papa," I say calmly, bowing slightly. "I accidentally smashed this vase. Lucia is cleaning it up now."
"No matter," papa waves his hand dismissively, even though the vase was probably worth tens of thousands of euros. "Come to the salon, your mother and I are waiting."
Lucia breathes a sigh of relief, squeezing my palm to thank me silently.
"Girl!" papa barks. "Get your hands off her. Who do you think you are?"
"Mi scusi, signore," Lucia whispers, bowing respectfully and flushing a deep shade of red before getting back to picking up the broken pieces.
I follow papa into the salon where mama is waiting with a stoic expression. She nods with a small smile when she sees me. I sit in one of the armchairs while they take the loveseat in front of me.
"Happy birthday," mama tells me with a tight smile. "You are finally eighteen. Congratulations on becoming a woman."
"Thank you." My mouth twitches. I want to say so much more. Beg them to let me go, to let me live a life of my own. But I know there's no way that's happening.
The only person who could possibly help me now is my brother, Luigi, but he's away on business and won't be back for months. He always takes my side, but I'm alone now, and powerless against my parents.
"I'm sure you know what this means," papa speaks with a wide smile. "It is finally time to announce your engagement. We will be holding a spectacular masquerade party in your honor in two weeks' time. Everyone who's anyone will be invited. The creme of the crop of Palermo."
But that means nothing to me, because I know the person who means most to me won't be invited. My parents hate the Bernardis, always have. There's no way they would invite Adrian or papa to their party. Not unless they really wanted to gloat and rub it in their faces.
"Of course, papa," I mutter obediently, avoiding his gaze. I don't want to hear my parents' news. I don't want to know who holds my life in their hands. It'll be too easy for them to crush all my hopes and dreams. To destroy everything I've spent my life wishing for, lusting after.
"We have indeed picked a husband for you," papa goes on proudly. "We are delighted to tell you who we've picked. We think you'll be very happy."
"Oh?" My eyes light up as they meet his. Is it possible... no, surely it can't be. They would never marry me to Adrian... would they? "Who is it?"
My curiosity gets the better of me as I ask for his name. I have to know.
My parents exchange excited glances and mama speaks up next.