Nostalgia

It was cool all around her, a kind of cool that was more than rare at that time for a normal mid-August day.

September was almost upon us, but despite everything, the climate continued to feel pleasant, warm and summery.

But not that day, not when something of such importance was really happening.

The sky was dark, covered with hundreds of dark clouds, which at that moment did not allow a glimpse of even a small part of the sky above.

The wind was blowing hard, strong enough to completely blow Diane's curly black hair.

That wind was beating on her sweet mulatto face, pushing on it so hard that poor Diane at that moment was struggling to even keep her big blue eyes open and look straight ahead.

She was standing there now, on the hill, the cool, soft dew-soaked grass pushing on her feet, on her bare ankles.

She had spent some of her money given to her by her brother to buy comfortable and finer clothes, but as she too well knew, she had to go back to using masculine clothes at least as long as she herself was in England.

She remembered how much she had risked showing the world her gender and she knew from her experience how difficult life was for women, especially in the suburbs of the small town.

Diane knew, that was her only chance to survive, or die, she wasn't sure either, the fact was that little did she know that very soon everything would change, not only for her, but also for most of the world.

But she could not know this, she could not know how she would return home to Meredith and her children, she simply did not know, but all she knew was that she too had a task there and that she would have done it.

Most of the Hannovers army had left and spread to the borders of the nation trying to defeat the other attacking armies from the North and South.

Scotland had already begun its march towards the border to the North of the country while the first Irish and Russian naval fleets had already begun their attacks against the coasts of the South, where perhaps the British were most disadvantaged.

How she knew those things, it was not difficult to know, she could only say that she could count on a very great power which she had accidentally encountered.

His name was Nathaniel Nox, she had met him one evening in an inn when both of them had gone to unload their tensions with a good mug of beer.

That evening Diane was immediately struck by the man, his beauty and the charisma in his words, it was a strange feeling, even if it could not equal love, it was a feeling of esteem and respect.

He was a rather young man with completely revolutionary ideologies towards the monarchy and generally Isabelle.

Nathaniel was a man who was daring by everyone, he pleasantly surrounded himself with both men and women of good looks and Diane immediately understood that they were the same in this field too.

She had presented herself to Nathaniel in the form of a woman in men's clothes, an idea that seemed quite interesting to him, that immediately, taken by the girl's hard character, let his admirers vanish to let the new acquaintance a chance of a personal chat.

Obviously Diane had done everything for a very specific purpose, because actually that revolutionary and fascinating man was mostly a rather well-known and respected person in the role of minister of foreign relations.

He was an even too young man for such a big role, in his twenties, with thick and wavy reddish brown hair and dark green, olive-coloured eyes.

Immediately the two understood each other in a few words and as his official guest, Nathaniel Nox had invited her to join his councils as often as she wanted.

This on one side had brought her closer and closer to her goal, because, thus being able to freely take part in court life, approved by the Joneses, she could better keep an eye on the princess and plan her revenge.

On the other hand, however, all this attachment to Nathaniel made Diane frightened, so much so as to bring her almost to an identity crisis: she really felt a strong love for Meredith, on the other hand it was she who saved her, cared for her and took care of her and her children and now that she was in Man she knew she could finally return to her and that she was safe and sound.

But on the other hand Diane was afraid with the proximity to Nathaniel to become too attached to him and betraying her partner with Nox would have been disrespectful and incorrect.

She no longer knew what she wanted, she no longer had a clue now, she had always been so sure and yet, there came those moments that, like weak puffs on a house of cards, threatened to make everything fall.

Diane had come to England with a purpose, but at the same time, in those years, so much had happened that by now she no longer had a very specific goal.

She was there, on the hill, right in front of her grave where at that moment Francis Hoover, a great friend of hers and once like a brother to her, lay dead.

It had been impossible to have him buried in the royal cemetery as he was not a descendant of that family but through the intercession of Johanna Cross, his mother and of Lady Katherine, her majesty herself, the young man's lifeless body had been transported and buried in a private cemetery, right next to Thomas-Cross, his younger half brother and illegitimate son of the king.

The wind was blowing hard, moving the short ponytail of curly black hair that Diane possessed, she was clutching a bouquet of flowers in her cold little hands which she had collected exclusively for him.

-It's been a long time Francis, too much...- admitted Diane looking with tender sadness at the large letters engraved in the stone -I hope you are happy, wherever you are right now...-.

It was strange that she spoke alone, it was also strange that beneath her lay the body of her best friend and once a lover of her older half brother Gilbert.

No longer smelling the man, the scented musk soap with which he used to wash his brown hair, his pale face full of freckles, she still remembered...he had died too soon and too brutally had been torn from that life.

Diane heard quick footsteps behind her, whirled around holding the dagger between her fingers, no one was there, not even any person who in bad weather could be there to mourn the loss of their loved ones.

Even though she was convinced that she had heard that sound, it was like a paranormal event and soon the thought arose in her that she had imagined everything, that all of this was just created by her anxiety and her imagination.

-I don't know what to do Francis, you helped me so much once, now I don't know what to do... which choice is the best, stay here to fight or surrender...Meredith, the children, I miss all of them so much-.

Diane placed the bouquet of flowers inside the precious jar placed at the foot of the tombstone, those flowers smelled well and she liked their yellowish colour.

-You know...I always thought we had a lot in common Francis: you were the son of a slaveholder, I the daughter of a slave, you fought for equal rights and I too fought for the liberation of my people, you were a Lord and I a Lady and we both loved Gilbert, even if I as a sister and you as a lover...- admitted the young woman placing a faint smile on her face driven by sadness.

She remembered all the moments spent with her friend, all the memories: she, Francis and Dickon, the three nobles of the rebellion, she missed all of that so much and she was sure that if it was possible to go back in time she would have done it to reach those moments another time.

She remembered the first time they met during the duel fight, she remembered she had helped Francis overcome his father's mistreatment and had witnessing him in the last breaths on his deathbed when William Dustin had shot.

-The truth is simply: all of you, I miss you immensely...all of you my friends, from the first to the last...we have started a path together but I ended up losing you all, we had promised to remain united and instead now there is not a moment in which I feel more alone...-.

Transparent tears had begun to fall on her soft cheeks, they almost burned on her skin.

Diane did not like to cry, she had never liked it but in that moment it was almost inevitable for her to let go of all the negative emotions and loneliness from her heart.

It was true, she missed everyone, all of them from first to last, they were her friends and had been forced to say goodbye and embark on a journey to which there was no way back.

Diane felt a faint weight on her hand, felt the small and thin legs on it: it was a small butterfly, not very beautiful for its kind, it stayed there, slowly flapping its little light brown wings out and in, out and in.

It had rested on the her hand, but it was a strange sensation because unlike the other butterflies she did not seem to fear and instead of flying away, it observed her with its small and strange black eyes.

It was like a reunion of two friends who had not seen each other for a long time, it was as if in that small and harmless butterfly she felt the forces of her dead friends tied together.

Diane watched the little animal flap its wings: she believed in heaven but she too believed in reincarnation, that the souls of the dead would one day return to earth in the form of another being with different experiences and memories.

It was as if that animal whispered to her a solution to her problems, a plan to follow, to follow her heart, to follow what she had always believed in.

An ancient Japanese legend suggested that every people who were destined to spend their life together were tied by a very long and shining red thread and following that thread, Diane was sure she would come to Man, to her Meredith and the children.

But she would not have done everything at that moment, she would have first had to fulfil her duty and then be able to get home again, her only problem was that she did not know that in a short time the inevitable would have happened to her.

The small butterfly flew away from her pale and cold hand, flew away, far away in the sky, where Diane could no longer see it, all of a sudden it started raining.