Part three. Ilaria's P.O.V.-
I can only remember being deliberately disobedient once in my life. I was seven or eight years old and at a seminary school for young ladies. Despite never being a great presence in my life, Grandfather always gave Papa money for my education, determined that I become a member of high society one day. I was sent to one of Florence's finest all-girl academies until it was time for me to move onto a proper finishing school. I don't remember much from my time at the seminary, but I do remember the headmistress was terrifying.
She was this elderly lady who liked to portal the aisles with a long slender cane in her hand. Since I was a quiet and somewhat reserved child, she never really paid me much attention in three years I'd been there. That changed one day during a Latin lesson. We were supposed to copy sentences from our little books onto paper; just basic translations. I always found Latin hard- though not as hard as Greek- and rather boring. I don't know what possessed me to act out of character on that particular day but I did. Instead of copying my lines I decided to doodle in the corners of my notebook. I was drawing a horse- I remember that.
Then the next thing I remember was a stick harshly slamming against the wood of my desk. Every girl in the room flinched, including me. All our heads turned to see the headmistress standing behind me, glowering down at me with a violence I'd never experienced from an adult before. She marched me straight up to the front of the classroom. Now she'd done this several times a day before with lots of other little girls. We'd watch as she'd dress them down in front of everyone and then dish out some sort of cruel punishment. This was my first time taking a turn with the headmistress's wrath. I swear, the woman must have hated children, and especially little girls. You'd never know she didn't by the way she treated us.
She made me stand there in view of everyone as she verbally assaulted me. My hands kept clenching the front of my dress, already wet with sweat, and my eyes were glued onto the floor out in front of my feet. "What are you, Miss Marcovaldo?" Her tone was sour and authoritative. I gulped, completely terrified. "A lady." "And what are a lady's two defining characteristics?" Another gulp ran down my throat. "Humility and obedience," I didn't really understand the meaning or gravity of those words at that tender age. All I knew was that we had to recite them over and over. "And were you obedient just now?" "Erm, n-no….." I knew contradicting her would dig myself into a deeper hole than I was already in.
Her thin, pale lips curled into a sneer at me. "That's right. Do you think your father wants a disobedient daughter? Do you think a disobedient girl gets anywhere in life?" "N-No, ma'am," I had no idea what she was talking about. I was just so afraid she would tell Papa about my behaviour. "No indeed. Let this be a reminder for you girls. Obedience in a lady is virtuous because you were not created for yourselves- certainly not. No, God created you all to meet the needs the man- first your fathers, then your husbands. And the man should think you the most perfect and best for him obtainable. Therefore, you must be always perfect. To strive for anything less is to dishonour your families. Am I clear?" "Yes, ma'am," my classmates answered simultaneously. Then the headmistress looked at me. "Am I clear, Miss Marcovaldo?" I didn't say anything before forced my head to bob up and down, unable to look at her. She tapped her cane onto the chalkboard. "Good. Now hold out your hand."
The headmistress never did tell my father about my little indiscretion, and I was never reprimanded again all throughout my time at school. I never told anyone about that day, but if you still looked hard enough on the palm of my right hand you could still see the mark. From that moment on I did as I was told and strove to be perfect. I wanted to be the perfect lady, not only because I didn't want to be beaten again in class but because I wanted to make my father proud- which he was. The message was loud and clear. Humility and obedience to my family is what was required of me; anything else was out of the question. I never thought about my own happiness when considering marriage. I didn't fight with Papa about moving to Portorosso and getting married to a man of my uncle's choosing. I never said a word- not one word. I thought I was doing the right thing…. I always did what others asked of me, without thought of what I wanted for myself. In so doing, I never made any real friends…. I had no close friends back in Florence. No, the first person I ever wanted to spend time with because he made me happy… so incredibly happy is…. is…. Being friends with Alberto was the first thing I'd ever unconsciously done for my own sake.
I stood there, staring out the kitchen window into the back of the garden. I suppose I was looking for a sign, but my mind was blank. It'd been two days since I last saw Alberto, which felt like an eternity after he made sure to pop by every day for the past couple of months now. My mouth hung open but nothing fell out. I just stayed there like that with my hands clasping onto the edge of the counter, not making a sound.
My head gradually spun around as Uncle opened the front door. "I'm home," he announced. "Welcome back," I said emptily, still feeling sort of numb. He came into the kitchen, looking my way. "Are you alright?" "I….. uh, I…." My mouth opened for a minute, then shut again. I also hadn't breathed a word about what I saw on the beach a few days ago. How could I possibly explain that, even to Uncle? He did actively hunt sea monsters, after all…. My eyes narrowed onto him, full of sadness. "Yes, I'm alright."
Uncle set down the empty water bucket he was carrying and gave me an examining once over. "No sign of Alberto still?" I looked back at him, unable to verbally answer this time. He shook his head with lightness and non-severity. "Don't worry, niece. He'll come back." "How do you know?" I asked half-heartedly, not really believing him at the instant. Uncle sat down at a kitchen chair to lace his boots tighter. "Trust me, I know. With you here, he won't stay away long. He may have had business back home to deal with or something. He'll be back in no time, you'll see," he said this with such confidence that if I didn't know what I did, I would have been inclined to believe him. Instead I quietly peered back out the window into the yard.
Uncle stood back up. He reached into his shirt's pocket and pulled out an envelope, setting it on the tabletop. "Here's a letter from your dad. I'm going into town this afternoon; have to pick up some more fishing line." "Oh… Do you… Should I come with you?" I inquired silently. His head shook again. "No, I should be back before dinner. You stay here and read your letter. I'll see you soon." "Ok. Have a good trip," I gave him a small smile as he set off back out the front door.
Standing there unmoving for a little while, I eventually went to fetch my letter. Papa had written it in French- an effort to keep up the language on my part, I'm sure. It read: Dearest Ilaria. I was very much pleased with your last letter. Along with your uncle's testimony, it sounds like you are setting right in at Portorosso. I am writing now to inform you that I have requested your Uncle Massimo to get his fishing business financially appraised. That way we might put your dowery in terms of a monetary value, which as you know is excessively important for attracting a well-bred gentleman…."
I let my eyes drift from the page, my hand steadily lowering it from my direct gaze. My vision was becoming blurry, this sudden warm sensation rolling down my cheeks. I had started crying before even noticing the tears on my face. Everything. Everything I am has been dictated by another. They took me like a blank slate and moulded me into the creature they wanted me to be. Society took this helpless little child and made her into a lady. I had one job and one job alone: I was to marry the man of my father's- or my case, uncle's- choice. Then I was to serve him and continue being an ornament to society. Why…...? Why did no one ever ask what I want? What do I want? I never really considered it before; it just seemed so senseless, like such a waste of time. But when I really think about it, I want…. I want…. My lips parted a sliver as I sniffled. I want to see him again; I really, really do. I miss him so much! I want to see Alberto again!
That's when I got an idea. Realizing that Uncle would be gone for the better part of the afternoon, my mind quickly formulated a plan. With no time to lose, I didn't even change my dress. I ran straight down to the dock where Uncle's boat was tied up. If Alberto wouldn't come to me, then I'd go to him. I untied it and half-climbed, half-tumbled down into it. I was admittedly afraid to be back in a boat alone again but my ardent desire to see my dearest friend again overtook that. I struggled to row out into the water; the men made it look so easy! It took much, much longer than I originally thought, but I somehow finally made it to Alberto's island. By now I was tanning, but again, didn't care. All I wanted to see him.
Lifting up the front of my skirt in my hands, I dashed up the beach toward his tower. I was utterly dismayed to find his homemade ladder destroyed and parts laying on the ground. Oh no, that can't be good! "Alberto! Alberto! Can you hear me?!" I hollered upward as loud as I could. Nothing. What now? What if he's not home? He might be out swimming. Or maybe he's asleep up there. "Alberto, it's me! Are you there?!"
Still nothing. I let out a sigh as my eyes fell disappointed. Great, now what should I do? Maybe I should stick around in case he comes back later. Or I could try scaling that thing? Ha! Cause that's not a death wish, I thought sarcastically. What should I do? He's got to come back sooner or later. What's the smart thing to do?
"I thought I told you not to be in a boat by yourself again." His voice made me almost jump out of my skin. I leapt a little in surprise and spun right around to see the human-version of Alberto standing there behind me. He eyes and expression were shy as his body language was hesitant and timid. Mine, however….
"A-Alberto!" I cried, the first utterance of joy in my tone in the last two days. He's here! He's really here, standing right in front of me again! He looked back at me anxiously. "Ilaria, I'm so….." "No! Don't say anything! I understand! I…. I-I get why you didn't tell me." "I didn't mean to….." "No, I understand completely. Heh, me- who denied the very existence of your kind- I can see why you had reservations, why you felt like you had to hide… who you truly are."
Alberto looked back at me with moist eyes. "I…. didn't think I'd see you again," he honestly admitted. That- that, right there- broke my heart. I couldn't imagine never seeing Alberto again- not now. Not after everything we've been through…. together. My eyes softened onto his without my thinking. "And I didn't think I'd see you again…. But I had to… I had to come….."
Alberto's cheeks turned red, his back arched like he was both shocked and elated. Seeing his stunned reaction made me smile. I smiled at him… "You're right. Rowing is really hard," I said and he laughed. "Not so easy, is it? But seriously, you shouldn't have come all this way in a boat on your own. What if you fell… back under the water again?" "I was very, very careful," I stated with a grin and he shook his head, walking up to me. Alberto looked down at me and I up at him. Our eyes locked.
"Alberto." "Ilaria…." "Alberto, I've lost so much already. I lost my home city, my father, everything I knew back in Florence. Please… I don't want to lose the very best friend I've ever had. I don't want to lose you too. I don't care that you're a creature from the sea; that's never crossed my mind and will never cross my mind. You're still my friend, so please… please stay. I don't care about moving to Portorosso, or having to get married, or having a dowery. You're what I want now- you're company….." I paused here to take a much-needed breath. Then my smile widened. My gaze tenderly softened onto him. Yes, this is what I want. For the first time in my life, I want something for myself. "Meeting you was the best thing….. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Alberto didn't say anything right away. He didn't say or do anything but simply, kindly, adoringly, effortlessly stare back at me. After some time his lips began to open. "So… you'll let me stay, then? I can….. stay…. here with you?" "Beside me, yes. I want you here, beside me…. please," oh please. And for the first time since we've met, Alberto had tears running down his face. He looked at me in a way I'd never seen from him before. Such joy, such relief, such purity. Nearly crying again myself, the back of my fingers reached up to wipe his tears away. His eyes shut as he pressed his cheek up against my hand, soaking in its essence.
When his eyes reopened, a new wave of joyous tears dripped down. "Well, I've got to row you back to the village anyway, so…." "Yes. I don't think I should do that again by myself," I agreed, smiling. His stare shone down onto me, his face growing serious for a second. "I am a sea creature, Ilaria…." "You're Alberto, and you're perfect just the way you are." He blushed a second time; my hand was still on his face. "You think I'm perfect?" "You are perfect," I replied without hesitation. After ogling me for another second, he let out a gentle chuckle. "No, I'm not. I'm not perfect….. Not like you." "Agree to disagree, I guess," I said with such tenderness. He smiled, and only then did I also start crying along with his tears.