The courtyard of the Palace of Justice buzzed with movement. Messengers, footmen, and automobiles crossed paths like ants in chaos. Armida’s car—polished to a black mirror—stood a few steps from the entrance. Her driver was already in place, tense as a drawn bowstring.«I’m late. Make this thing run.»«At once, Madame!»The boy turned the key, but the engine coughed and died with a wheeze. Armida closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, then exploded:«What must I do to get a little cooperation?»She tore off her hat and hurled it at him.«Drive! Now!»«My apologies, my Lady!» he stammered, and at last the car shot down the avenue.

They crossed Temple Square, where a crowd of worshippers was decorating arches and windows for the Harvest Festival. The sweet scent of flowers mingled with the acrid smell of horses and sweat. Armida glanced at them, displeased.

The festival irritated her. Too much noise, too many colors, too much forced joy. And that atrocious violet against the greenish temple bricks—an insult to good taste. She looked away, drumming her fingers on the glass.

Anna Ranieri sat behind her desk, staring at the clock that marked time like a sentence. She gnawed at her thumbnail—a habit she despised. Anxiety ruined the skin, and she already had enough wrinkles to fight. She stood abruptly: she needed tea, and a distraction.«Giorgia,» she called, pushing open the door to the adjoining office, «green tea with jasmine flower, honey, and a dash of cold milk on the side.»

Her gaze fell on a pile of boxes behind the desk.«And for heaven’s sake, tidy those decorations. We didn’t spend a fortune to look like beggars. The entire street—»

She stopped. In the doorway, gracefully leaning against the handle, stood Armida Sunnèi.

The assistant jumped up, making the chair screech.«My Lady!»

Anna felt her blood freeze. She tried to look composed, though her hands trembled.«Governor Armida... what a surprise. Welcome.»«A pleasant surprise, I hope.»

Anna forced a smile. «Of course! Please, have a seat. Would you care for some tea?»

«Anna Orlandi—oh, forgive me, Countess Ranieri!» Armida’s smile was thin as a blade. «It’s been years, but I remember you well: the first of the Orlandi to step into the legal world. And look at you now...» She swept her eyes across the room, dissecting every detail. «You’ve certainly carved your path.»

Anna stiffened. She could never tell if that silken voice was meant to flatter or to threaten.«Oh, no tea for me,» Armida continued, gliding toward the main office.

Anna followed, swallowing hard. The governor settled into an armchair with the ease of someone born to be served. An antique clock ticked on the mantel; Armida noticed it and frowned.

«Ah, heaven’s thunder! I’m terribly late,» she sighed. «Automobiles... expensive and unreliable inventions. And chauffeurs—don’t get me started.»

Giorgia entered with the tray and barely avoided colliding with one of Armida’s sweeping gestures.

Anna laughed nervously. «I understand, but I must admit they can be useful. In this heat, or with the stench of horses, I don’t know how we ladies would survive otherwise.»

Armida arched a brow, amused. «Touché.»She poured herself some water, then added casually, «I’ve heard murmurs among the nobility lately. Complaints about the new taxes and restrictions...»

Anna set her cup down. «Nonsense. My friends have nothing to complain about.»

«Friends!» Armida laughed. «You truly have an enviable social life. I always enjoy attending the receptions you host in that magnificent palace. It belonged to the Ranieri family, didn’t it?»

Anna bit her lip. «Yes... it was my husband’s family estate.»

«Ah, yes!» Armida clapped her hands softly, feigning delight. «And your father spent a fortune restoring it, if I recall correctly. A tribute to the Ranieri, to seal the union with the Orlandi.» Her lips curled into a grin. «And then there was Tobia, the fiery brother, always ready to die for his ideals...»

Anna’s shoulders tightened. «Our family has already paid for its mistakes,» she said quietly. «We are loyal to the city.»

«Oh, no one doubts that!» Armida smiled. «You are the very embodiment of loyalty, Anna. The woman who handed her own brother to justice to protect Cremgaradél.»

Anna looked away. The image of Tobia cut through her like a knife: the guards dragging him away, his eyes full of fear and hatred, the words he had shouted at her —“Traitor.” She had thought she could forget. She never had.

Armida leaned forward and took her hands gently. «You were brave, and the Council hasn’t forgotten. Of course, allowing the Orlandi to retain their social standing was already a... generous concession.» She straightened and snapped her fingers.«When one finds a rotten branch, dear Anna, one must cut the whole tree. It’s the only way to save the rest of the grove.»

Anna flinched, tense. «What do you want from me?»

Armida watched her for a long moment, then spoke softly, silkily:«I need Anna Orlandi once more. There’s unrest in the city. Someone is spreading dangerous ideas—equality, welfare, schools for the outcasts... even a clandestine hospital. A true insult to our Healers!» Her voice rose suddenly, slicing through the air. «Some among the wealthy are funding these fools, and I want their names.»

Anna pressed her lips together. «I can vouch only for my family.»

Armida stood. Her shadow fell over Anna like a threat.«Oh, but I don’t want your family. I want you.»She touched Anna’s chin with a finger, almost tenderly.«You’re intelligent, ambitious... and still hungry for something. Something I can give you.»

Anna held her breath.«...A seat on the Inner Council, for instance,» Armida whispered.«You find me the traitors, and I’ll give you the power you deserve.»

For a moment, silence hung heavy as lead. Then Anna extended her hand.«I accept.»

Armida smiled. «I knew you would.»

She turned toward the door with the grace of a queen.«Stay seated, dear Anna. I know the way out.»

When the door closed, Anna remained still, her hands trembling. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. She pictured her husband’s expression when she would walk into the Palace of Justice as Armida Sunnèi’s equal. She imagined herself striding down gilded corridors—her step firm, her head high, the city at her feet.

Finally, she thought...Finally, the name Orlandi would cease to be a shame.