OCC: Assume all dialog is in Italian
Seraphina sat in contemplation of her next move for quite some time. The song ended and she sat up still not knowing for sure what to do other than to call The Maestro. She flipped open her phone and quickly dialed the direct number to his office.
"Maestro Renaldo Cavilli,"
His deep bass voice brought a warmth to her heart that only Gabriel and the Tuscan sun could.
"Maestro, it is Seraphina."
Her voice wavered.
"Sera, child where have you been your family has been calling non-stop for a day."
She sighed, the entire burden of her guilt and her games was carried into reality with that sigh.'
"I know Maestro, it is a very long story that I can't go into right now."
His deep voice was filled with a deep fatherly concern.
"Sera, what ever it is you can tell me."
"Maestro, not without going to confession first. What I have done is truly terrible."
"Sera, meet me in an hour for coffee, skip the confessional for now."
It was an order not a request.
"Maestro, I can't there is so much to do, so much damage control."
"Sera, it can wait. Meet me and Signora Donati's bistro, please. I know you something is very wrong."
She sighed again.
"Si, maestro. I will be there."
"Good meet me in hour. Dear Sera whatever it is I am there, you know that. You are so much like my own daughter."
His voice grew thin as he mentioned his daughter.
"I will be there, I promise."
"Bye, my child."
"Bye maestro."
She hung up the phone. She hid her face behind her hands, just as she had done at the hotel. Her heavy mind and burdened soul forced her shoulders down as far as the brace would allow. She wanted nothing more than to forget everything, to have had enough trauma done to not remember a thing.
She took a few deep breaths then stood up. She walked to the bathroom and dug her red hair sticks out of a drawer, and put her hair up into a bun. She turned on the curling iron and quickly curled her bangs under. They barely his the scar. Damn, I wish Svetlana was here. She went to the front room and rummaged through her bags until she found her make up. She walked back to the Master bath pulled the foundation out of her bag. She had just twisted off the lid when a thought entered her mind. I am probably going to be followed by the Nuvello's, if I am seen in public beat to hell that lends credence to me story. They all already think me weak, if I can play it up it will make Dante look bad, and justify my actions. She closed the cap and smiled wryly. There might be a way out of all of this yet.
Turning she left the bathroom and waled to the front room. She looked around the apartment to make sure that everything was in order, before grabbing her keys off of the table by the door. She stepped outside and and locked the door, checking it twice to make sure that it was locked. Holding onto the handrail as though it were the only thing between her and death she navigated the stairs down to the street.
Standing outside she looked up to the sky, the clouds were gray and high, the remnants of the previous nights storm. A cool breeze came off of the coast and wrapped itself around her, catching her skirts and making them billow out. The breeze felt good against her beaten face. As it moved around her body it pressed the shirt to her frame showing her curves and the brace. She called for a cab. As she stood there waiting people walked by staring at her, some shaking their heads, other trying desperately to not look at the battered woman who stood there with such cinematographic dignity despite the trauma.
The cab pulled up and she slowly climbed. The drivers eye grew wide int he review mirror as he looked at her. She waved a hand in front of her face to indicate that it was no big deal.
The driver looked straight ahead, though she couldn't help but catch concerned looks from the reflection.
"Donati's Bistro, por favore'."
"Si, Signorina."
There was no small talk as he drover her to the Bistro. When he stopped her turned around and looked at her.
"Are you alright, Signorina?"
"Si, signore', thank you for asking though."
She paid the fair and climbed out of the cab with slightly greater difficulty than getting in. With the door still open she leaned in.
"Ciao."
He nodded and replied.
As she walked to the front door a sense of dread filled her. Standing to the side of the door she peaked in to see if Signora Donati was there. Her mouth went dry when she saw the familiar figure of the old woman moving behind the counter. She was about 30 minute early, and contemplated waiting until the Maestro came, before going in but the pain was too much to continue standing. She swallowed hard before walking into the bistro.
Signora Donati looked up as the little silver bells rang out her arrival. When she first looked up there was a smile on her face, but once her eyes fell on Seraphina she dropped the try in her hand. The plump little woman turned and shouted into the back as she came around the counter. Her plump hands gentle cupped Seraphina's face. Sera tried to pull away but the older woman wouldn't have it.
"Little Alighieri, what has happened to you?"
Her voice sounded as though she were about to weep.
"Who did this to your beautiful face?"
"It is alright Signora Donati, it doesn't hurt too much and it is getting better everyday."
Sera tried to smile, to shrug off the pain and the trauma.
"Don't lie to me, Seraphina Alighieri, I can see it hurts you. Your young man didn't do this to you did he?"
Her voice was hard as the stone that the Duomo was made of.
Sera's brown knit in response, her face showed the insult that she felt for Gabriel, but her voice was soft and respectful.
"No, Signora he didn't, he is away on business right now."
Signora Donati's face was the very image of skepticism.
"Signora, I swear to you on Dante's tomb, that it was not my Gabriel. He isn't even here in Florence right now."
Signora Donati raised her eyebrows, and her face returned to its gentle concern.
"As you say, my seraphim. Come sit down you should not be standing let me bring you some tea, and a tart."
"Grazie, Signora."
The old woman tottered off behind the counter. Quickly she returned with a steaming cup of tea and a raspberry tart.
"You had better drink all of that child, it will give you back your strength."
Her brown eyes were stern and loving at the same time.
"Of course I will,"
She said before raising the steaming cup to her lips. Signora Donati returned to her post in the kitchen and began barking orders to the staff.
Seraphina was about half way through her cup of tea when the Maestro walked in. She immediately rose to her feet. With one languid gesture of his hand he told her to sit back down. He took the chair opposite her. His eyes took her in one bruise at a time. They wandered over the gash on her head and the green eyes as though he were going to paint every last detail of her battered frame. His blue eyes showed only love and compassion for the young woman sitting across the table from him. He stretched out a hand and took one of hers on the table. The red around his eyes was indicative of his all consuming grief for the loss of his daughter.
"My sweet child, what has happened to you?"
His voice was soft.
She fought for control, she did not want to answer him. This is a family matter she told herself. But looking at the man that had been like a father to her she could not lie and the tears welled up again. There were soft tears not the hot tears of her rage and grief. They were cool against her cheeks as they fell.
"Maestro, my cousin attacked me before I left, because he doesn't like the fact that I am getting married to a Frenchman from a noble house instead of an Italian one,"
She opted to keep it simple,
"This was the day before I left planet to negotiate peace. I have broken ribs and, well you can see the rest."
She stopped and wiped the tears from her eyes. The entire Bistro was silent. Sera looked over at the counter to catch Signora Donati eavesdropping. Bless the old woman's heart she thought to herself.
The Maestro's brows knit and his entire posture softened.
"Poor child. I hope you changed the locks."
"Si, but it goes on. Maestro....Renaldo, I have lost my humanity."
To hear the words out loud sent such a chill through her that she took her hand from the Maestro and wept into them both. He reached across the small table and laid a hand on her forearm.
"Sera, it can't be that bad. What do you mean?"
She choked back sobs. Signora Donati seeing her distress quickly brought her another cup of tea and patted her on the back. She nodded the Maestro, and smiled. Slowly Sera lifted her head and put her hands back on the table.
"Renaldo, it is that bad. He followed me to L-1, I don't know how he knew that was where I was going, but he showed up. I had already hired bodyguards and I let one of them kill him."
She looked to the Maestro expecting his face to be riddled with disgust, but there was only the love that had been there before. Slowly she turned to look at Signora Donati. She was standing still with a dish rag in her hand, her eyes wide with shock, or was it horror. Sera took a sip of the tea to brace herself for whatever came next.
The Maestro swallowed hard before speaking.
"Sera, I have no words of comfort for you other than at least you know he can't hurt you again, or your lover. I know you have seen too much atrocity for one so young, and had more pain than most people can live with, this too will pass. You are not an inhuman monster for what happened, you have simply proved how human you are."
He squeezed her hands tightly in his and looked her straight in the eye.
"Grieve, Sera, for him and yourself. Take some time off of work and your diplomacy. It is alright."
He stood up and came around the table to her and kissed her cheek. His smooth skin brought her comfort, the smell of his cologne and the texture of his suit made her feel safe.
"Let me drop you off at him, and you rest Sweet child."
He pulled her chair back and helped her up, he opened the door of the bistro for her and lead her to his car. She was like broken hearted child walking beside him. Staring at the ground trying to hide from the world. He opened the car door and helped her get in before closing it. He got in and and started the car.
The first few blocks were spent in silence. She turned to him and looked at his face. It was obvious to her that he was hurting for her, and for himself.
"I am sorry, Maestro."
She whispered.
"Sera, child you have done nothing wrong. You're mission is too important to allow it to be threatened by anyone, even your own familiy."
She immediately thought back to her argument with Grimbold at the hotel. I should e-mail him and make sure he is alright, she thought to herself.
"Thank you, Maestro."
He glanced at her briefly,
"For what?"
"The absolution,"
she sighed and crossed herself.
Again the car fell silent. At a stoplight the Maestro turned to her and spoke. His voice thin as it had been earlier when he mentioned his daughter.
"Did I ever tell you what happened to my daughter?"
"No, you didn't."
He inhaled and exhaled very slowly and very deeply.
"She was with her mother on a shuttle headed towards the colonies, when they came under attack from a rogue group. The unarmed shuttle never had a chance. That was six years ago, the same year your Paulo died."
He fell silent and withdrew into himself, driving her the rest of the way home in silence. She stared out her window and watched as Florence flew past. Why is he telling me this? Why did Grimbold tell me about Sara? What am I supposed to do I am only one woman.
The car lurched to halt in front of her building.
"Rest Sera,"
The maestro said as she got out of the car.
"Thank you, Renaldo."
He looked at her with tears brimming in his blue eyes.
"Anything for you my child."
She closed the door and he sped off.
Sera walked back into her apartment. She had been so emotional she had forgotten about the pain. She Stopped at her luggage and rummaged through it until she found her pills. She took one and sat down on her bed. She kicked off her shoes and laid down. She tried to absorb what the Maestro had told her about his daughter, what Grimbold had told her about his wife, Paulo's death and her fears for Gabriel. These thoughts chased each other about her mind as the pill slowly took affect. The pain began to ebb away, and sleep threatened to come. She didn't fight it. There was something she had to learn, before she could continue.
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