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Eulogia was concerned. “That’s dreadful. Why would anyone wish to harm Bessarion? He was the noblest of men.”
Helena hid her impatience. “It was always religion with him, so it was probably something to do with that. Of course, he and Justinian quarreled terribly about it, twice that I know of, and then Justinian went to Eirene. Heaven knows why! After that, of course, Bessarion really was killed by Antoninus. Fu
A
“Why, thank you, Anastasius,” Helena said charmingly, meeting A
A
When she arrived, Helena received her after only fifteen minutes’ wait and made her almost welcome. They were in the newly decorated room with its exotic murals. She was dressed in a soft deep plum color that became her excellently. She had a minimum of jewelry, but with her warm skin and rich hair, she did not need it. The silk of her dalmatica billowed around her as she came across the room. It was one of the rare moments when Helena was as beautiful as her mother.
“Thank you for coming,” she said warmly. “My ankle is so much better, I shall recommend you to everyone I know.” She smiled, but she made no reference to the money.
“Thank you,” A
“Odd that Eulogia should call just as you were here,” Helena went on. “She was related to Justinian Lascaris, you know?”
A
“He was married, some time ago.” Helena’s tone dismissed it as if it were not relevant anymore. “She died. She was Eulogia’s sister.” She was watching A
A
Helena picked up a small jeweled box from the table. It was exquisite, silver set with chalcedony and surrounded by pearls. A
“You like it?” Helena held it out for A
“It’s very beautiful,” A
Helena smiled. “Justinian gave it to me. Unwise, I suppose, but as I told you, he loved me.” She said it with satisfaction, but still looking at A
A
Helena was watching her. There was an intensity in her gaze that was almost mesmeric. The light was shining on the box, on the plum silk of her dalmatica, on the gloss of her hair. “Do you like beautiful things, Anastasius?” she asked.
There was only one possible answer to that. “Yes.”
Helena’s winged eyebrows rose, her eyes wide and dark. “Just ‘yes’? How unimaginative of you. What kinds of beautiful things?” she insisted. “Jewelry, ornaments, glass, paintings, tapestries, statuary? Or do you like music, and good food? Or something you can touch, like silk or fur? What gives you pleasure, Anastasius?” She put the box on the table and walked three steps closer to A
Was this what had happened to Justinian? A
The air in the room prickled as if a storm were about to break. A
Helena’s eyes swept down A
A
No man, however mutilated, would refuse to speak at all. And whatever A
Helena was still waiting. She would never either forget or forgive a rebuff. She was so close, A
“Pleasure must be mutual, my lady,” A
Helena stood absolutely still, her features slack with surprise and disappointment. Anastasius had been polite to her, flattering, yet she knew she had been robbed of something. She made a sharp little sound of a
“Your money is on the table by the door,” she said between her teeth. “You bore me. Take it and go.”
A
Thirty-three
ANNA ARRIVED HOME AFTER HER ENCOUNTER WITH Helena with her mind racing and her body still trembling as if she had been physically assaulted. She strode past Simonis with barely a word and went to her own room. She took off her clothes and bandages and stood naked, then washed herself over and over again, as though she could cleanse herself with harsh, astringent lotion, smelling the bite of it with pleasure. It stung, even hurt, but the pain pleased her.
She dressed again in her plain golden brown tunic and dalmatica and left the house without eating or drinking. She was fortunate that Constantine was at home.
He rose from his seat, his broad face filled with anxiety the moment after she entered. “What is it?” he demanded. “What’s happened? Is it another monk tortured? Dead?”
It was preposterous! Her obsession with her own, so desperately trivial hurt, when people were dying terribly. She started to laugh, hearing it run out of control and end in sobbing. “No,” she gasped, fumbling her way forward to sit in her accustomed chair. “No, it’s nothing at all, nothing that matters.” She put her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “I saw Helena. I’ve been treating her-nothing serious, just painful. She…”
“What?” he demanded, sitting opposite her. His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of alarm in it.
She looked up at him, steadying herself. “Really nothing,” she repeated. “You told me that she made an advance to Justinian, which he found acutely embarrassing.” She did not add her own experience, but he understood it. She saw his face darken and then pity and revulsion leap to his eyes, as if he had been touched by it himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Be careful. She is a dangerous woman.”
“I know. I think I made a reasonably graceful refusal, but I know she won’t forget it. I hope I don’t have to treat her again. Perhaps she won’t want me to…”
“Don’t rely on that, Anastasius. It entertains her to humiliate.”