Chapter 45 - His Evening Star

After our wedding, Botticelli and I decided to stay in his family home in the city. We live together with his brother Giovanni's family. It was a very lovely home, especially when it was always filled with the sweet playful laughter of their children.

It sometimes made me miss my son but little Domenico, the youngest son of Giovanni has taken a liking to me. I would sometimes take him with me on my daily strolls or whenever I visit my Aunt Simona.

Even after everything that has happened between me and the Medicis, it did not hinder anything towards Botticelli's employment from them. He is still one of the favored artists. Though I could not be there, Botticelli would give me news if my son would be around, and ever since he was taken away, he never saw a young child around the palazzo.

Lorenzo would not even talk about anything regarding my son. Even then, I knew that he survives. I know in my heart that he still lives on.

Now that I'm a lot closer to Botticelli, I was able to witness the creation that he would be famous for. When Semiramide found a match with the other branch of the Medici family, Lorenzo commissioned a painting as a gift for her future lovely wife. It was the Primavera or the Allegory of Spring. It was a big panel painting that will soon become the representation of Renaissance art.

Lorenzo commissioned a painting as a gift for his cousin Lorenzo di' Pierfrancesco de Medici. It was the Primavera or the Allegory of Spring. It was a big panel painting that will soon become the representation of Renaissance art.

"I've never seen it like this before," I said, as I marvel over the half-finished painting.

Botticelli climbs down a ladder to kiss me as I give him his food. "Simona has done it again with her matchmaking. Whatever do you mean by it, wife?" He smiles as he sits down on the chair to start eating.

I walk closer to the painting and realized what he is working on. "This painting. I have seen it before but in its complete form. It's amazing looking at it in its current state." I said, in awe of his yet-to-be-completed work. After a few moments of taking in every detail he managed, I then began to notice something familiar. "The three graces look familiar," I said with a smile as I stare into it.

"Yes, as you should." He said as he grins before taking a bite of his meal.

"Carnivale," I said, remembering the moment we shared during those times. Botticelli depicted me and Semiramide as the 3 graces. The times when we dance around the streets and are carefree. I never thought he'd remembered.

I heard footsteps coming closer, and then he wraps his arm around me and kisses my head before speaking. "You were so happy then, I will never forget the smile on your face or your graceful dances to the music of that day."

I wish I could tell him more about what this painting will be. It will be his legacy. However, I'm still bounded by my promise to him. Perhaps when we grew older, I can tell him about how amazing he would become in the following century.

The thought of spending the rest of my life with him, us growing old together sparks so much happiness inside my chest. Although, a memory pops up inside me that makes me wonder if I can rewrite history this time. The last moments of Botticelli's life.

I spend my days taking care of Giovanni and Filippa's children. I love kids, and spending more time taking care of them has somehow filled the void in my heart.

"Zia, is it true that you were a dancer when you were young?" Beatrice said as I braid her hair.

"Who told you that?" I ask as the other children started pooling around me.

"Zio Sandro." She said, her brown eyes big and curious.

I could not help but smile at her. "Perhaps in a way, you could say that. I was very young and passionate about dancing then."

"Zia, can you dance for us?" Dea said, the older sister of young Beatrice. Her light brown hair glimmers when the sun's light hits her head.

"Alright, just let me finish braiding Beatrice's hair." Giovanni has 5 children. 3 girls and 2 boys. Dea is the oldest and at the age of 12, she's beginning to blossom into a fine lady. Giorgio is the second, followed by Beatrice, Piera, and Domenico. In my spare time, I would teach them some things about history and language. When I was finally done, I stood up and walk toward the center of the living room. As I was dancing, despite not being able to dance for a long time, my body responds perfectly to my every move. I suddenly felt lighter. When I was done, the children clap their hands to applaud me and stood up and beg me to teach them. I laugh at their reaction. "I will teach you but promise me we will study more after this."

"Yes, Zia." They all said in chorus.

I patiently teach them the basics. It's been a while and I'm quite sure I might have missed some things, even then, I saw the determination and passion of these kids. Even Giorgio who always seems playful and unmanageable was disciplined during the dance. I could not help but be proud to see them as happy as they are now.

Before we end, I decided to dance along with them. Even without applause, without audience and music, I feel accomplished. By the time we are done, I noticed Botticelli watching us. When Domenico saw him, he immediately runs toward him.

"Zio!" He called. As he stretches his arms towards him.

Botticelli immediately lifted the young boy into his arms and then kisses him on the cheek. "You are all so great." He said, addressing the children.

"Zia taught us to dance!" Beatrice said as the rest of the children had completely forgotten about me and surrounded him. Botticelli has always been good with kids and the children's love for him is proof of it all.

"Yes, I see that." He then switches his gaze towards me from the children as he smiles proudly. "It was very beautiful."

Flattered, I smiled back as my cheeks redden. "Children, you promise me that we will study after the dance."

"Yes, Zia." They all said in chorus. Even little Domenico pouted and asks Botticelli to bring him down to begin studying. They all headed to the settee and started reading.

Botticelli snakes his arms around my waist and pecks a soft kiss on my lips then looks at the children. "You never cease to amaze me. Before you, it would have taken a lifetime of bribing before they would open a book."

"I only do what my father did with me when I was growing up. Find a middle ground for fun and learning." I said, remembering how he would take me outside and teach me so many things while playing. I remember my dad taking me to the gardens to learn the basics of life and the creatures around me. It was one of the most precious memories I had of him.

Botticelli kissed my forehead as we look at the children.

When we get to our room, my mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of the children as I brush my hair. I miss my son, and I have poured all the love I wish I could have given to him into the children. The thought of us having children has yet to be discussed.

"Something on your mind, my love?" Botticelli said as he washes his hands.

"Children. That's what's plaguing my mind at the moment." I said as I look at his reflection in the mirror.

He looks back at me through the mirror and nodded. "What about children?"

"Do you think we're ready to have our own?"

Botticelli wipes his hands and then lay down on the bed as he taps the empty side, urging me to come forth. I place my brush down on the table and lay next to him. His arms have always been my pillow in bed.

He caresses my cheeks and looks deeply into my eyes before he spoke. "If you think that we are, then I'm alright with it. I only want to give you more time. I know your last 2 pregnancies were quite an ordeal."

I hug him and smile bitterly at the mention of pregnancy. "That's true. The way you look into the children makes me think that perhaps you wanted to have a child right away."

"I do, more than anything." He said with a smile as he plays with my red locks. "But if you do not think you are ready, then I will wait. Like I always have."

He never ceases to amaze me. Grateful for his empathy, I peck a kiss on his lips and lay back down on his chest. Soon, the rising and falling of his chest followed by the sweet and steady pace of his breathing made me fall asleep.

Time flew by so fast. In a blink of an eye, the kids started to grow. Semiramide has gotten married but I was unable to witness it. I have been avoiding the Medici for quite some time now and it would do me no good if I attend.

Despite not being able to witness it myself, I'm happy and proud of her. It feels like only yesterday, she was nothing more than a child and now, she is married. She is a kid no longer.

"She arose from the foam of the sea, in a shell fully grown and more beautiful than anything in this universe," I said as I see the massive canvases in front of me of what would become the very famous painting, The Birth of Venus. He has yet to draw Venus in the middle of the two canvases but I can already tell that it is the famed painting.

Botticelli turns toward me with a smile on his face. "The evening star. The unquestionable beauty."

I am filled with awe. My eyes can already see the finished painting even when he's only beginning to paint it. "I wish I could tell you so many things from all of your works," I said as I look at him.

"Perhaps when we're old and have little things to talk about. You may tell me then." He stood next to me as his arms enveloped my shoulders. "But for now, I have only one question in mind."

I look towards him and jerk my head to one side. "What is it?"

"May you stand patiently in front of me as I try the best that I can to emulate your beauty, my Venus?"

"Me?" I was suddenly dumbfounded. "Why me?"

"Because you're beautiful inside and out. I do not think there is something more divine than that."

I never knew what I did well to deserve such a man. I look down with shyness as I bit my lower lip. "Such words, for a flawed woman like myself," I reply coyly. I am aware of my shortcomings but Botticelli's ability to see beauty extends in such a way that he sees and focuses on it while understanding the flaws. The balance of life.

He turns his body to face me and held both of my hands in his and looks deeper into my eyes as he smiles. "I believe that God gave us a little divinity within us. It emerges through kindness and compassion and sometimes, it sparks brighter than others."

The windows are closed, and the doors are locked. The only light in the room is from the tall window up in the room and a few candlelights. Despite being married, I suddenly felt conscious of my body.

As I disrobe myself, I suddenly run my hands along the scar on my side. Then Botticelli lifted my chin with his fingers and say, "Just look into my eyes and my eyes alone."

The amber orbs bore into mine as I nodded in agreement. He arranged my long red locks that reach the end of my spine and then went ahead to start working on the painting. It was only us and nothing more. At that moment, even with the canvas unfinished, I felt immortalized in his eyes alone.

It wasn't long before we heard of the news that Botticelli might be invited for a commission in Rome. And a few days later, upon hearing an invitation from the pope himself, I saw myself standing outside the door holding Botticelli's hand before he leaves. "Don't worry, I won't be gone long ." He said, reassuring me.

I smile in response before speaking. "This is a great opportunity for you, I just wish you could take me with you."

"I would love nothing more than that as well but I cannot." He then planted a passionate kiss before pulling away. "Wait for me. I'll soon be back in your arms." With one last kiss, he departed as he waves goodbye. He doesn't know it yet but his work in the Sistine Chapel will enhance his reputation greatly. Solidifying his status as one of the greatest painters of the Renaissance.

1930, France

"Aphrodite is the Greek Goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, passion, and procreation. The counterpart in Roman Mythology is Venus. She was said to be the most beautiful thing in the whole universe. No God nor man can resist her except for the other 3 virgin Goddesses: Artemis; Athena; and Hestia are immune to her power and charms." Dad chose to discuss Greek and Roman mythology today. Reading them for myself and formulating how I understand them is the most important part of our lessons.

"That's quite powerful," I said, thinking out loud.

"Why do you think so?" Father said as he paces the room, eager to hear my thoughts.

"I know that people sometimes value strength, and abilities more than anything else, especially in a war that we overlook we have little to no control over such as feelings and attraction. The power of suggestion." I said with confidence.

"Very good. Most women tend to see through it better than men can." He said. He then leans on the table as he looks toward me. "If you would notice, the most powerful men in history are always been backed by the advice of the most cunning and wisest women."

"Even the Medicis?" I ask, suddenly remembering the men he has always admired.

"Yes, pumpkin. Including them."

"Then why is it that men are better known than women?"

"I can only answer that with an opinion." He said, finally sitting down on the chair in front of me. "I think that the most powerful ability thrives in secrecy. With little knowledge, there is little to apprehend it. Perhaps that is why women learn to manipulate their surroundings by whispers through men."

1485, Florence

The breeze is getting a little colder. Sitting by the banks of Arno, I found the company with Domenico. He would have been the same age as my son. "Zia, It's getting late. May we go home?"

"Yes, we should," I said. I stood up and wrap my arm around his shoulder.

We were halfway home when we were suddenly surrounded by men. "May I help you?" I ask, masking my voice with confidence as much as I can.

"Antonia Gorini, you must follow us." One of the men said. I furrow my brow in confusion. When I didn't react right away, 2 of them immediately grabbed me by my arms and forcefully separate me and Domenico. When Domenico would not let go, one of them slaps him hard across his face, making him fall to the floor.

"No! Don't hurt him!" I plead. "I will come with you just don't hurt him!" When they all seem to agree, I can only look at Domenico who is still laying on the ground. Winded, he pushes himself up and tries to catch up when I stopped him. "It's alright. Go home, Domenico." I said as I was forcefully dragged away by the men.

In a few minutes, we reach the one place I thought I would never enter again. Palazzo de Medici stood high before me. My gut is filled with fear. I do not know why they have taken me here but the memories I had here only bring out pain and suffering for me. I closed my eyes to push the memories at bay but to no avail.

When I get inside, I was taken into an empty room, pushed on my knees, and left there. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Lorenzo. He walks towards me as he looks on impassively at my form on the ground. "Hello, Antonia. We meet again."