4
The Angel's Forgiveness, oil on canvas
“W ait! Donna, please listen to me.”
I froze at his raised voice, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would convince me I was still going to marry my old friend and that, somehow, everything would remain the same.
“Do you remember what I told you that night?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him approaching, still talking as he came closer. “I need you to know that it wasn't a joke from a drunk boy. It was real. This wedding is real for me, Donna.”
He was right behind me then, his hands grazing the feathers of my dress's wings.
“For so long, I have wanted to kiss you again,” he whispered in my ear, and my heart started beating very loudly. “To kiss you in front of everyone, anywhere.” His hand down my back, my heart beating very, very loudly. “To wake up next to you every morning.” A kiss on my bare shoulder, my heart beating very, very, very loudly. “For everyone to know that you are mine.” A kiss on my neck, my heart… “For you to take my name, to finally be seen as someone in their eyes.”
Oh.
“No.” I turned around quickly.
“Donna.” He tried to reach for me, but I stopped him with a hand between us.
“No, now you listen.” Suddenly, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “I need to do this. I have to, if I want to keep living like this.” I took a step back. "I don't have a choice." He was looking at me like he didn't understand a word. “No one out there bets on me. I have nothing. Here, I have my bow and my arrows. Here, I have my books, my stories —the only place I'm allowed to be more than what they've made me—where I can be the person they don't want me to be. Here, I have Dara. Here, I have you . But I'm still nobody. And it seems that's the only thing that matters.”
He suddenly closed the distance between us, his hands gripping my face with unexpected force. “You matter to me Donna, can't you see?”
He was so close. Why was he so close?
“I love you! I don't care about any of those things, I just want for everyone to look at you respectfully not like you were a—” He closed his mouth and cut himself off abruptly. But I knew exactly what he was going to say.
“A pirate,” I breathed, finishing his sentence.
I removed his hands from my face and took a step back .
“Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Captain Hart, but you are about to marry one.”
“Donna. Don't. This is not a game.”
“No matter how many times you change my name or how many titles you want to give me, nothing is going to change the fact that I am the daughter of Captain Balboa.”
“Don’t—”
“I am grateful for this life and this second chance you gave me, I really am. But please , don't try to change who I am. I thought that by marrying you, my friend who helped me break laws—”
“Donna!”
“—I thought I could be more protected, that I could continue being myself because you used to keep my secrets better than anyone, that we somehow could help change that stupid law—”
“I BEG YOU TO STOP!”
I'd never heard him scream like that. Never in our almost ten years of friendship. Never. And I was scared, because suddenly, I didn’t know him—and I was about to marry him.
“I’m trying to protect you, damn it! Life is not like one of those absurd books that you are constantly reading. Piracy is illegal! And it's punishable by hanging!” He ran a hand over his face, and when he looked into my eyes again, I only saw anger, but at the same time, tiredness and sadness, and a part of me wanted to tell him that it was all right, that we could take our wooden sword and bow and be whoever we wanted to be.
“For the love of the Gods, I would have to turn you in right this instant just for implying that you're one of them! That's how serious this is!” He took a step forward and this time, I did realize that my friend was gone.
“This is the real life, Donna. We are not children anymore. We haven't been for a long time.”
And he said it so carefully that I had to stop and think that maybe he was right, and I had to open my eyes. Perhaps it was true that I had nothing left to live for, that I was condemned to sit and watch ships sail without me. Royal ships, because pirates would not live to tell the tale. And maybe he was right after all, because that should be a better fate than death.
“Donna.” He said my name so lovingly that I had to look up at his extended arms.
He wanted to hug me. After everything, he wanted to hug me? Maybe he did love me, like he said. Maybe this was romantic love, and I just needed to put a little effort into it. And maybe I needed to start right this instant. So without thinking, I stepped forward and let him hug me.
The sharp tang of metal and the sweet scent of freshly baked bread reached my nose, and I suddenly remembered how much he used to enjoy forging small swords and baking—how happy heonce was.
“Maybe we can get you put on the Royal Navy Council, yes? Have an important seat at court… With all you have read and everything you know about ships and tides, I am sure they will not hesitate for a moment to let you have a chair in the council.” He comforted me.
I took a breath, and let it out. “But I am still a woman. ”
“Not any woman. Lady Hart.”
I removed myself from his embrace and looked at his face. He smiled so pure, that I had to smile back. And perhaps he was right, and my fate was to be Lady Hart.
So I nodded. And he smiled even more, and began to touch my cheek very gently, and then my nose, and I closed my eyes because I felt like I needed to do something.
In the darkness of my closed eyes, I felt his thumb on my bottom lip, and maybe he said something but I didn't hear it because all I could think of was how I was about to become Lady Hart from the court of The Crown of Tidia, complicit in ending piracy.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” I heard him whisper with my eyes still closed.
And before I could think of an answer and perhaps nod, his mouth was on mine, and his hands were on either side of my face.
It was nothing like that winter night.
It was abrupt and urgent, as if he knew I was about to try to escape. And maybe he needed something from me to let him know that I was prepared to be Lady Hart, that at least I was ready to try.
So I seized the collar of his armor, pulled him closer, and kissed him back. But all I could think about was how, in just a few moments, I was going to be tied to this man for the rest of my life.
That I would have to renounce the sea for this kiss, every single day.
And suddenly, a breath of cold air ran through my body as the sound of a slow whistle woke me up from my trance .
I took a step back very quickly to put distance between us.
“The Angel's Forgiveness, oil on canvas.” A voice cut through the silence, sharp and fluid like the wind carving through the sails.
Diego was immediately drawing his sword and putting me behind him using his right arm as a barrier.
The voice laughed, and it was a sound woven with both bitterness and sweetness—like grapes kissed by lemon juice—that I found myself helplessly drawn to the figure that was leaning against the door.
A man.
“Oh, please. Don't tell me you've never seen that painting?” The figure raised his arms like he was surrendering in the middle of a battle. “An angel fallen from heaven, clinging to her earthly knight, forgiving all his sins committed in war… You must know that one.” The man tilted his head, laughing again. “Riejeff Trane? Renaissance? No? Very talented fella. I was lucky enough to play a game of cards with him once... of course, I didn't know who I was up against until he—”
“Who are you?” Diego's voice cut through, sharp and commanding, as he leveled the sword at the stranger.
That laugh echoed the stables again, and I was starting to get very frustrated not being able to see his face. The shadows and darkness covered it in such a perfect way that it seemed he had studied the light and was in that same spot deliberately. For a reason .
The clicking of a tongue accompanied a sigh. “No need for that, mate.” He leaned even closer to the door, and all I could see were some old boots and a long coat he was wearing.
“I only came here to celebrate a wedding. Like everyone else, I assume.” He lowered his arms. “I am just the lucky bastard who got sent to tell the groom that our little angel there”—he said, pointing at me—“must be at the altar in a minute.”
“Right. My apologies.” Diego immediately sheathed his sword and turned around to face me. “I will wait for you at the altar, yes?”
I nodded slowly and he kissed my forehead, and then he was gone. And the hysteria was suddenly there again because it was all going to happen in a minute, and I truly thought I had it under control.
“Having second thoughts, love?” The man tilted his head, and a ray of sunlight hit one side of his face, revealing blue eyes. Then he winked, and I noticed an immense scar above his left eye.
I frowned, thinking about how I had never seen anyone with that scar in the palace before.
A burst of curiosity hit me, and in an instant, I was lost in one of my books, feeling that familiar urge to know what would happen next, the need to turn the page.
“My dear! In the name of the Gods, where were you! The King is waiting to walk you down the aisle, you know he cannot be made to wait.” Dara suddenly appeared, grabbing me by the arms and walking me to the palace .
The King? King Thadrius was going to walk me down the aisle? In front of everyone?
I looked around to see if I could make sense of anything that just happened, or if everything had been just a projection of my imagination.
But when I looked back, the man was gone, and so were my arrows.