Much more than just a friendship
It had just passed a few days from the celebration of Christmas and thus from the period of festivity, joy and love that was created in those times.
And noticeably that joyful aura had changed into a mixture of worry and melancholy.
The bourgeois were no longer the same, they were afraid, since no one was aware of what was happening, not even Diane knew it, she could not know, no one could know what was happening.
Never since their princess had taken power had publicly admitted to the people what was really going on, thus leaving everyone in a state of general perplexity.
It was dark, it was night, when concern for her future crept into the head of Diane, a woman of noble rank but at the same time possessing a strong rebellious blood.
A woman of just twenty, who for just over a week had become the mother of her two twins: Cassidy and Logan.
For years she had led those movements and believed in her actions, that all her work could lead to something, to a better world.
Diane had not done it, it was all an illusion perhaps, all a game that she had created in her head.
Her fear of being left alone, was the strongest she had ever experienced.
She looked at the golden brooch, which she carried in her pocket, which she hid each time.
The brooch representing her deer head, she turned it over and touched it, between her fingers, with her fingertips.
She felt those shapes with her touch, the cold of gold, she perceived everything, ears, eyes, horns, muzzle of that animal.
It was the symbol of House Stanley, the house of traitors, the house of bastards who could never be trusted.
Her father had brought these characters to her family and had brought in the family illegitimate children with no specific noble title.
James Stanley had never thought of loving, none of them, particularly, he had just placed them in the wombs of different women and once having killed his lovers, he brought the children home with him.
As if they were a war trophy, as if they were objects, because illegitimate children were never planned, they were simply born like that, by mistake.
Diane and all her half-brothers were none other than this, the results of a love story that simply never existed.
She and her three older half-siblings, four, when Gilbert was still alive, barely carried on a house that was already dead, they all bore the weight of their pasts on their shoulders with rancour.
No, that pin, that symbol was evil, it was the memory that kept her tied to her past, to her father.
It was dark around her, dark, in the hall where she was sitting on the soft and comfortable armchair of precious fabric.
Only the kelp, its heat warmed the scene, only those flames managed to warm and give a defined tone to the woman's golden skin.
She felt cold despite the fire that lay in the fireplace, she felt a strong cold inside herself.
Diane held her two children close to her chest, she observed them, then looked away, then returned to observe them again.
It didn't matter wherever she looked, her gaze always ended up falling to her two little ones that she held in her arms.
Her children were different from each other, not only in appearance, but also, mostly in character.
While Cassidy, her baby was fit, sleeping and eating from her breasts, like any other baby, her son Logan was almost always silent, much more puny than his sister, and hardly ever required milk.
For this raising her child was for Diane a greater effort, as she knew, if something bad happened, he would probably be the first of the two to die.
In addition, while, after birth, Cassidy's smell was much improved, of warm bread, of sweet, of something good, her son Logan continued to smell of blood, of sweat, nothing had changed in him.
Now they both slept in her arms.
Although relatively strange as an attitude for two newborns, the twins hugged each other.
While not yet able to see or do anything else, they surely felt each other's presence in that room and it was wonderful to see how his children got along just as soon as they wailed.
They were both wrapped in a fine blanket of warm fabric and lay in her arms.
The door to the living room opened slowly with a creak.
Who could it be at that time of night? Nobody was supposed to be awake, nobody but her.
She saw Lady Meredith Dustin enter the room.
Something, some strange detail, however, differentiated the woman from everyday life, from her perfect composure and elegance.
Her brown and long hair, usually straight and soft, was now unkempt, partially frizzy on the woman's back.
Her face was not radiant as usual, it was pale and two deep dark circles explicitly outlined her large eyes.
Meredith wore a long, fine pink nightgown, tight to her body, mostly on her chest, over her breasts it was made of fine fabric.
The two looked at each other, what had happened? What was happening...
The lady was so tired, so exhausted, that Diane felt, that poor woman could fall to the ground any second now.
She reached the armchair, took a seat next to the other, who was calmly holding her children in her arms.
Diane could not wait to lend any help, no support, when Lady Meredith simply began to cry.
-I can't take it anymore Diane...- she started to let off steam between one sob and another -I can't take it anymore...my life... what's happening to me?-.
The woman placed part of her face on the other's shoulder.
What was going on? This too Diane wondered, what was going on?
Something was making the woman unhappy, that was clear, but what could it be?
The fire burned in the fireplace and thus dried the tears in her eyes.
Diane began stroking her hair.
As her host, she would never have allowed herself to make such an inconvenient gesture, but this was what her mother had always done with her, when as a child she cried, to reassure her and she knew nothing else.
-It is John, you understand, we can no longer...I can no longer love him as before, he does not have the time, it is so sad...- Meredith tried to explain, raising her head from her friend's shoulder again and trying her best to fight with her anger.
-For some time we have been planning to conceive our second child...I will soon be twenty-seven months old and John, he is no longer able to love me and I can not either...-.
Diane felt the hands of the woman trembling full of anguish, holding on to her knee, she was in panic, it was evident.
She looked into the fire, not an expression, not a smile, nothing, she was lost, lost there, simply, she watched the wood burn, crackle, Diane was too caught up in her thoughts, in herself, that she could have completely forgotten what were around her.
-Do you remember that evening, Diane, when I came with the intention of confiding something very important to you?- Lady Meredith's ended up stammering as she suddenly remembered something very important.
Yes, she remembered well that evening, the evening, when that moment of sincerity had been interrupted by the birth of the twins, she remembered that evening well and ever since, she had been so busy that she actually forgot what her host was about to tell her.
She probably wanted to make sure she was okay that night, she had been like an angel, like a salvation for her, how she had helped her in giving birth to her children, Diane felt a kiss on her right cheek.
What did that innocent kiss on her cheek meant, why then immediately after listening to a woman's crying about her own husband, how come to her? And why at that moment? Diane immediately blushed.
Diane observed the face of the other, Meredith was red on the cheeks, red and hotter than the fire that burned, as if awakened from an eternal sleep the woman had now moved on to cover her own nose and lips with both hands.
She was embarrassed, perhaps, embarrassed either by the kiss or by having for too long and too energetically confessed all that information about her husband.
-Diane I...I can explain...- Meredith stammered not knowing what to say.
Vino veritas, the woman immediately thought.
Was she really interested in her?
But all of it was just so sudden, so unexpected for Diane.
-You let me enter your house and rest here, you lied to John just because you were attracted by me...not because I was pregnant or anything, right?!-.
Diane looked away from her, at the ground, the marble white floor, she was so incredibly close to the warm fire and yet it was so cold.
-Oh! My goodness! No, Diane, I...I obviously wanted to help you in the first place...but I am unhappy and...I don't know who I love anymore...-.
The woman watched the fire, it still burned, so strong that she knew exactly what to do.
Diane grabbed the precious, golden brooch that she hid in her pocket, the brooch of her family, of the Stanleys, that deer, with the branching horns, those little eyes that stared at her, she had held it too much and long enough to let her know that she needed nothing more, that she did not belong to that family now, no more.
She threw the brooch into the fire so hard that before the gold in hers could sink into the living flames, it knocks on the wall and collided with it. She was not a Stanley anymore.