Chapter 8: Fulfill (I)

Scarcely a few days passed, most of it requires him to go outside the estate from morning till dusk. Today, however, he did not and hence he finally had sometime for himself.

And it was raining. Well, he didn’t mind; he liked to read indoors, until he heard a knock, interrupting him.

“It’s your mother. She has called for you.” Gennaro told him.

He looked up, surprised, before placing his book down. He was annoyed but he’ll visit his mother, regardless.

“Of course,” he said, before standing up. He rarely said no to his mother, though he was puzzled why she was seeking him out.

But he followed her, all the way to the other end of the house, where her rooms were. She liked it warm, and there was always a fire going. Especially during the snow or on a rainy day.

She stopped him as she opened the door for him.

He glanced around. Beatrice sat upon the table, her long black hair, loose. Her muslin gown was yellow, as he stepped forward.

He could see treats being prepared, things that he enjoyed. Their conversation.

She rarely summoned him to her rooms, he paid his visits often.

He took a seat down, as she beckoned him while waiting for her to speak.

“Go ahead, ask the question.”

He was nervous, there was a seriousness. They could talk about things. He stopped before and pondered. There was only one.

“Does it have to do with what I said to Papa a few days back?” He was euphoric then, having discovered just what made this all worth it.

She put the cup down, knowing her son to be too smart. “I am troubled. Because he doesn’t understand you the same way I do.”

His mother always knew him better. Even now, his father was understanding.

But he could respect him. “He respects my goal.”

“He has given up. He’ll let you decide what you’ll make of it,” she said. “You never knew him when he was a young man with everything on his feet.”

“Is it really a chance, or does he hope that I’ll become like him?” He looked at her

“I think it’s both. He’ll want to see you as a greater man than he was. That way he can feel proud as a father, but second, he thinks that the world may break you. But this is a path that you chose, and he will not interfere. Life is a greater teacher than parents ever could be,” she said. “That’s because none of you ever listen to us.”

“I won’t give it up. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me going,” he said. “Allowing me to accept that I need to give up so much of my own interests, so that I can be the heir that both of you want.”

He took a seat down, letting it out.

“That is why I’m worried.” She let out a sigh. “You are single-minded, stubborn and you let nothing stop you. The only reason you never opposed it is that you’ve already thought about this since the beginning.”

Lorenzo gave a sheepish smile. “Yes, I did.”

“I suspected,” she said. “You had ideas, but to see them become reality, now that would bring you to heaven. Even if it’s unrealistic.”

“But not impossible.”

She kept her silence. “I think it’s unlikely, but that’s all.”

He took a sip. “It’s unlikely means there must be a way out there. To avoid the lives, we live now, where we keep passing on the responsibilities like it’s some reward to be celebrated. When they’re asking you to give it all up.”

“Will your life really be that terrible?” She asked. “You lucked out. Now you’re the heir to an estate. You have it better than your sister, your brother. And a bunch of cousins. Will it be so bad?”

“It’s on my principles that I’m doing this, and why should they get nothing while I get everything?” He asked. “Why not split it nicely?”

“Cecelia would have her share when she gets married, so that they would not neglect her. Federico, you can give him something,” she said. “But it depends on you.”

He wanted to voice more of it out. To speak what was on his mind. “Why does it rely so much on a person? It depends so much on his nature, wisdom and character. But that’s the most unreliable thing of all, because it never answers to reason.”

Beatrice said nothing. “Who knows? That is only something that those who have inherited a throne or a powerful position will understand. But for me, that’s just the way the world is.”

He questioned it in a way that none of them ever did. He stopped.

“One more thing. I think it’s time you married.”

He nodded.

“You don’t seem surprised. Let me guess. Cecelia already let you in?” She asked.

“Yes, she already told me.” He gave a smile. It was a more warning and less gloating, but maybe happy that the attention was off of her. “But what makes you think it will change anything?”

“They change everything about a man. Fatherhood does more than marriage, but marriage does plenty. Because someone depends on you.”

“And yet there are still men who desert their wives and children.” He really didn’t wish to argue this with her.

She knew that to win with him, authority did little. It was always going to be a reason.

“You’re a better man than that. If you were a true scoundrel, you would have left your brother to deal with the estates and pursue your genuine desires.” She looked at him, knowing her son too well.

He gritted his teeth.

“Once Cecelia has found a fiancee, then the focus will be on you. I think you’re old enough to find a potential wife, and we’ll be the judge. We don’t have any betrothals to honour, so both you and Cecelia are free to find your own,” she said. “She’ll be paying calls, as well as attending balls. We’re also hosting one.”

He thought a little, believing they were just for Cecelia. Then, he came to a realisation. “Am I also going to those events?”

Beatrice only returned a knowing smile. “Cousin Antonia will be her chaperon. When she’s not around, it’s you. But she agreed to take the both of you, so that you become acquainted with society.”

He groaned. He remembered Cousin Antonia. She was vivacious and just shallow. He hated small talk and hence he didn’t enjoy spending time with her. He preferred the more studious cousin who ran a salon, Cousin Marietta instead.

But before Lorenzo could interrupt. Beatrice continued. “She can handle most of Paserta and Terragia. You might see Cousin Marietta if you ever go to Marallo. And you know who it’ll be if it ends up being in Ganeo.”

His father would not help him. He’ll say that it’s great his mother was expanding him. His father had traveled much, and been popular amongst the women, before he met his mother and married her.

“I think it’ll be easier if I go with Cousin Marietta, because she knows me better.” Since she stays in Marallo, it’ll take a while.

“Cousin Marietta already advised her sister to find more intellectual company, for Cecelia’s sake, too.” Beatrice looked him in the eye, having already remained one step. “And for a daughter-in-law, I also want good company, too. It’ll make the sewing less dull.”

He tried to think of anything to wriggle his way out of this.

“Anything else to say?” She asked.

He shook his head. He left, knowing that he was going to talk to Cecelia.

“Are you sure you want to visit Cecelia?” Gennaro asked.

“Yes, I’m very certain that I want to see her. I want to know something.”

Gennaro nodded before bringing him to her rooms and waiting outside. He had to talk to his sister about it. He hoped she wasn’t busy.

“Usually Cecelia would chase you away, but it’s been a while, so she’ll indulge you.” The maid that attended to her was a woman a few years older, with a soft smile. And always seemed to understand her best.

He hasn’t visited her the regular way, and the maid opened the door for him as he entered inside.

Cecelia sat upon an armchair next to a table, free for anyone to join her. I often translated her favourites works, novels that came from the continent. She noticed, before she invited him to a seat.

He followed, as Gennaro helped by bringing in things.

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“You can go. I’ll go back on my own.” He wanted to give Gennaro sometime to himself.

Besides, this conversation would take time, he was sure of it.

“What brings you here?” Cecelia asked. She didn’t seem to have the same perkiness that she always had. Or rather, a desperation to enjoy what she still had as a girl, with a father and a brother, to indulge her whims.

“Something inevitable,” he said.

“Marriage,” she sighed. “She told you about what you’re expected to do.”

Lorenzo nodded. “Too soon?”

“I don’t know. Mama told me about her worries about you. After you told Papa.”

“Is it really that difficult?” He asked. “I’m just admitting that I think the world is flawed. And I want to see it change, I want to change it.”

Cecelia, always more sensible than he was. “No wonder why Mama’s afraid, and Papa seems both proud of being apprehensive of your ambitions. But you seem the happiest that you’ve been since you stepped inside here again. The last time was before you left.”

Lorenzo looked at her.

“But why not just accept this as your reality? You have what most people will envy you for, the head of family, heir to an estate and never worry about money,” she said. “You can always do it at the side.”

“Yes, but to me, that’s not enough. I don’t wish to settle for it,” he said. “I realised that, that I don’t want to divide my attention. If I were to give my life to studying, it will be my complete self. It’s only a dream now.”

“But you’re still doing it?”

"Yes, I still am.” He stopped. “But that’s not why I’m here today. It’s about marriage. I want to know whether it is what you want.”

“Why does it matter?” Cecelia looked at him with eyes.

He had to pierce them. “It does matter, because you’re my sister.”

“Isn’t it easier to not hear my dreams and desires so that it would be easy to take care of me by finding me a husband?” she said. “Why do you feel the need to give me hope that never existed?”

She begged him.

“It’s not hope, it’s just you admitting your desires. So that you never forget it, that whether you’re married, or you’re a mother, who you are.” He looked to her.

She gave a laugh. “It’s so much easier to pretend it never existed.”

“But I think that’s the most painful of them all, to have never acknowledged it. And to never pursue them.”

“Marriage is the end of childhood and whims for all girls. After that, their life is not their own. They’re meant to serve, to obey, to care for others.” She recounted it to him, almost unwilling to meet his eyes.

“But you don’t want it?”

“Who wants to be dictated to? Even for a woman, to say that we enjoy being lorded over, that’s untrue.”

“No one does, no one wishes to be forced into it,” he said. “And yet you’ve already done so when you refused to tell me anything. You have desires, dreams about your poems, do you not?”

“Yes,” she said. “If there is anything that I want, I hope to publish things. And the only way I can do that, in this reality, is to marry. Taking the veil would make things even more restrictive for me, mentally. You’re expected to serve, to ponder about God. That is unlike me in every word.” Her voice lowered. “And if they take my imagination from me, then I will have no reason to exist anymore.”

Lorenzo didn’t disagree. He didn’t have any fondness for religions. It all started from his childhood, when his tutor shut his questions down. It had been a tutor that tutored him along with his brother, and prevented him from questioning. So much that his father gave up and found a philosopher instead.

So Cecelia only had marriage as an option. Her poems often brought them all to life. The beauty of nature, of travel, of wonders, of awe. Things that they may find blasphemous or question her piety on.

“I know, you and I, we’re similar that way. We seek to be free mentally, that they can take everything, but not our soul or our minds.”

“I wonder whether we doomed Rico to be like us.”

“I hope not, but whatever the case, I want him to be happy.” He gave a sigh. However, he wanted to give Cecelia the option.

“What if I tell you I can provide for you?” He asked.

“Not now, when you’re free and single, but later when you’re married with children, I may become a burden,” she said. “Better for me to find someone so that it never comes. It’s the practical thing to do if I want to survive.”

“A governess.”

“All our families will ask whether I’ve been disgraced or we’re down on money. Besides, it’s restraining on its own, too. Mama said it’s easier to find a husband who will tolerate this if I know how to look.”

“Why not someone who admires you?”

“Will you tolerate that in a wife?” Cecelia asked.

“Perhaps, but I’ll see. I’m not sure what I’ll seek, but I want someone who is true to me, someone that I can admire and be a friend to.” He looked.

“It’s not that bad,” she said. “Besides, the sooner this begins, the more I can ponder and think.”

But he still hasn’t heard it. He and Cecelia found it easy to speak on a totally different tangent on their own.

“You still haven’t told me,” he said.

"I want to publish a single poem in a newspaper somewhere. To tell the world that I existed as a poetess before, even if it’s a wish.”

“Or a beginning.” Lorenzo looked at her. “It can always be a door for you.”

“Mama tells me that marriage will open the doors if I can convince my husband to tolerate it,” she said.

But there was a pained look in her eyes. As though she almost didn’t want it to happen.

“Why not?” He asked. “I’ve admitted it. I don’t think it has done so much.”

“A man can do it, but I will only jeopardize my chance for marriage.” She stopped.

Lorenzo knew that deep down, it brought her great excitement, joy even. She was hesitant to tell her.

“How about you’ll be selfish one more time?” He asked. “And a man who is chased away by that may as well be a suitor best avoided. I promise that you’ll only marry when you want to.”

“Don’t say things you cannot completely confirm,” she laughed. “But I want to do it. Except I can’t have anyone carry it out for me. I need someone to help me post it. I have a poem that I think can be published. Could you take it to the publisher or an editor, see what they tell you?”

“Of course, it isn’t too much of a hassle. I’m going to Paserta, anyway.” He smiled.

“Yes, it doesn’t matter to me whether I get recognised. But that achievement, that brings me joy,” she said. “That will remind me, even after I’ve left my youth behind.”

She seemed more settled, relaxed at the thought.

Lorenzo smiled. “I wondered that despite you being so resigned that you were so quick to indulge in everything.”

“I know that it’s the case, that I can’t run. I want to enjoy it. But with this, I would have achieved something, and it makes me happy.”

“It may not be necessary. Don’t count yourself out,” he said.

She looked up. “I’m glad to have such a considerate brother.”

“But you know why this comes from.”

“Yes, had you been anyone else? Would you have been so kind?” She asked. “I don’t know. Maybe they would have been like all the others and never asked me. And only tell me what to do. Mama, Papa, Zia Letizia, Zio Antonio. All of them tell me what’s expected of me, but not you. Only you asked me whether this was what I wanted.”

But he felt as though he had failed at anything. But perhaps helping his sister with this would be the start of something, and show her another path.

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