Chapter 3 - A Stranger's Mourning

At least now I know the month and year I travelled into. It's in April 1476. I have travelled 400 years back. Despite never meeting her at all, my father has collected a handful of information about her as much as he can.

Being a famously beautiful woman in Florence does not guarantee enough information about her background. From what I can remember, it is not even known when she was born but she's certainly a Genoese.

There was only one record in history that my father was able to collect about Simonetta's early life. It was written by an unnamed Florentine poet politician and it reads, 'in that stern Ligurian district up above the seacoast, where angry Neptune beats against the rocks ... There, like Venus, she was born among the waves.

How do you mourn for someone you've never met before?

It's difficult to feel anything when I didn't feel like I lost something. I know it isn't her fault. I know I needed to be away but it is also not my fault for not feeling as much as I should. As much as Madonna Cattaneo.

The house was eerily quiet. Its silence is almost deafening. It's difficult to speak even at supper. Madonna Cattaneo has been quiet and I respected that. I may not know the nature of their relationship yet but I'm sure she was truly close with her. She is in no better shape than I am. I'm certain that I look positively joyless as she is.

"By the looks of it, it appears you have your share of loss and pain." The elder woman finally spoke.

Fiddling with the spoon, I nodded yes. "I have. Quite recently as well."

"Forgive me. Is it a close relative?"

Nodding again, I spoke. "Yes, my father."

"Condolences, my dear. How old was he?"

Shifting my gaze from her to my plate, I began to see my father's smile. "He was 44."

She nodded before speaking. "I hope he lived fully within his years."

Did my father live fully? Now that she's mentioned it, my father has always been focused on me that I have never seen him do things other than researching and teaching me. He never even took his teaching position back even when he was offered multiple times by Oxford.

No matter how much I want to say yes, I know I would be lying. He has lived halfheartedly since my mother's passing. It's as if a big part of him died along with her.

Tossing and turning, I found myself completely unable to sleep. The reality that I have witnessed the burial of both of my parents seems to have tugged something in my chest. I wonder what happened to her. Why has my father never mentioned anything about her to me? Is it so difficult for him to talk about her that he could not dare mention her to me?

My father has mentioned how much I took after her. I wonder if that was true. Giving up, I decided to wrap myself with a shawl to keep myself warm and went downstairs by the fire. When I get there, I saw Lady Cattaneo by the settee. Seeing as she perhaps needed the time alone more than I do, I decided to went back upstairs when she suddenly spoke. "Can't sleep too?"

Caught by the act, I continue towards the settee and sat at the other edge of it. "I'm afraid so."

"I wonder what keeps you up?" She said while her gaze still upon the dancing fire in front of her.

Unable to tell her the truth, I decided to lie. "My father has been in my thoughts lately."

Her gaze went back on my way. Her face is serious and enigmatic. "I have only known you for a short amount of time, my dear, and I can already tell you're a bad liar." Surprised, I look down on my lap and fidget. "Now that I know you are incapable of speaking lies, let me ask you something." Slowly, I lift my gaze from my lap to hers as her eyes locked in on mine. "Does the name Constantine sound familiar to you?" Caught by surprise, I blinked a few times before nodding yes as my mouth slightly parted in shock. "I knew it." Then she looks back at the fire. "You are his daughter aren't you?"

"H-how did you know?"

"I knew Constantine because he's my niece's lover."

She is a woman who does not beat around the bush. Somehow, regardless of my knowledge of the nature of my parents' relationship, it still feels a little painful to hear. "Then do you know about me?"

Nodding her head, she smiles. "At first when I saw you laying on the ground at my house, I thought you were Simonetta. The necklace you're clutching gave it away. I know of Constantine's incredible ability he could wield the stone. I know because I gave one to Simonetta once before."

Leaning my body towards her, catching my full interest. "Really?"

"Yes. I gave it to her after acquiring it from a dear friend." She said, looking forward as if remembering the very memory. "She said it would conjure a person that's important to you. Of course, I didn't believe in such a thing but I figured Simonetta would like to have something to hope for. It was my birthday gift for her when she was only 13 years old. That night, she told me her wish did come true."

"I didn't know there is another stone apart from my father's."

Chuckling she spoke. "The one with the stone conjures another bearer. I'm surprised Constantine did not mention that."

Looking down, I shook my head no. "He never gets to. He was too weak to tell me about it."

We were quiet for a second. Not one of us knows what to say next. She knew my father and somehow that gives me comfort that he isn't alone in this era, that he has made friends. "I hope he mentions how similar you are with your mother."

Eyes welling up, I look back at her and smile. "Yes, he's mentioned it before but sometimes I think he's just saying that because he misses her greatly."

Offering her hand, which I gladly accepted, she pulled me closer and spoke. "Well, Simonetta's hair is a lot lighter than yours. Her eyes are a lot darker. Apart from that, I couldn't think of anything else that varies from you to her. I'm sure he misses your mother greatly, but a glimpse of her in you, perhaps, sufficient enough for him." I fell silent as I take in her words.

"Can you tell me what happened to her before she passed?" I said as tears start to fall on my cheeks.

She made me lean on her shoulders as she wraps her arm around me, brushing my arm as she speaks. "I can never forget the way she looked at you the first time she saw you. It was filled with love and devotion. She doesn't even want to take you away from her arms even when she's tired." Then her sweet voice turned a little serious though she tries her very best to hide it. "As you know, your mother's already married to Marco Vespucci. Seeing you would mean the discovery of her adultery. She knew that Marco wouldn't spare you so she urged your father to go. However, things did not go better for soon after your father's departure she was stricken with childbirth fever. For 2 days, she endured but by the third, her body grew tired." I was a product of sin and yet they both loved me wholeheartedly. It's something I cannot fathom but I am grateful. "I wish I could have told you a story with better endings."

"It's alright. I appreciate your candour. I know it must be difficult to relive those memories."

Wiping away my tears with her hands, she smiles sweetly. "Oddly enough, It was mere days ago when I saw you as a newborn baby, and now you're a fully grown woman in front of me." She chuckles, trying to lighten the mood before she continues. "I know your parents did not meet most conventionally and appropriately nor do I condone their actions but she found love and happiness and I couldn't have asked for anything more for her."

Despite living in this period I cannot help but forget that women of this age, especially on the upper-class side, normally enter marriage for financial security than love. Such as my mother, born in a noble family, was expected to marry a man well connected in Florence.

After a late-night conversation with Lady Cattaneo, who now wishes to be called Aunt Simona who also revealed that my mother was her favourite niece, it makes me think of the good things that my mother has despite the situation that was forced on her due to her status. Only a few people in this time get to find love and be loved in return. Knowing more about my mother, a smile crept up on my face as I succumb to sleep peacefully.