Chapter 8

Victoria stretched out her arm to reach for the white flower that fell as naturally into her hand.
Zorro smiled at her, turned quickly and continued his sword fight with the alcalde.
The sound of metal swords slamming together echoed across the plaza.
Zorro spun the point of his sword around at lightning speed until De Soto's sword flew high into the air to land point-down. The alcalde jumped back to keep the tip from piercing his boot.

Victoria stood on the top step of the porch. She raised on tiptoe and stretched her body to its limits, hoping to catch a little longer glimpse of the masked hero leaving the village at full gallop. He got chased by a dozen lancers.
As had happened before, Zorro had appeared out of nowhere at an unexpected moment.
The man knew what was going on in the small pueblo. And time and again, he managed to stay ahead of the alcalde.

Sighing, Victoria watched as two lancers tried to make the alcalde regain consciousness.
Such a shame that again, this time, there had hardly been time to exchange a single word. Victoria wished Zorro could stay long enough for once to have a normal conversation. One of the few times they'd been undisturbed for more than five minutes had been in the cave that day when he had proposed to her.

That day was a little hazy in her memory. She knew what had happened. Zorro had almost revealed his identity to her.
Victoria still was convinced, should she be given another chance to spend some time alone with her fiancée, she would be able to persuade him to reveal his identity to her whenever that moment might come.
At least Zorro had noticed her today and given her a flower. The white flower he had hidden somewhere under his cape had conjured up. In a way that only needed Victoria to reach out her hand, Zorro had managed to throw her the flower during his fight.
Undoubtedly impressive.

After Zorro had disappeared out of sight and not even a cloud of dust was visible on the horizon, Victoria turned her attention back to her customers.
Victoria wished she could remember more of that particular day when she'd been in his cave. She remembered the basics, but missed the finer details.
She had finally been in Zorro's private secret hideout. And she had slept half the time! She had even fallen asleep shortly after the marriage proposal.
Not that she could have done anything to prevent it. It was because of that filthy tea Zorro had asked her to drink. Not only had the bitter liquid have an analgesic effect, but also a sleep-inducing one.

Twice he had made her drink the tea. The first time, to reduce the sharp pain caused by a nasty sprained ankle after her fall. She had probably become drowsy after the first doses.
Zorro had pursued her to take a second dose to bring her to sleep. And take her back to the pueblo without risking too revealing the location of his cave.
Victoria really did understand that Zorro must carefully guard his secret. After all, your traitor never sleeps. But why so complicated? Wouldn't a simple blindfold have been more than sufficient?

Zorro had neatly taken care of everything. He had overpowered the criminals who had stolen her money and returned it to her. He had asked the blacksmith to pick up and repair her broken-axle wagon. When she wanted to pay the bill, the blacksmith told her it all was taken care of already.
All that was left for her to do was offer the man a free meal in her tavern.

She had nothing to complain over. The man she loved had proposed to her. As proof, she had a beautiful gold ring, set with countless small diamonds and a beautiful emerald in a deep green colour.
Still, sometimes she doubted whether it was right to keep waiting for Zorro. Should there ever come a day when Zorro was no longer needed? He had asked not to share their secret with anyone. Logically, if people knew they were engaged, it put both their lives in danger.
However, she had no idea when they might get married. It could be tomorrow, but what if the day never was?
Was it fair Zorro was claiming her that way?

Her eyes drifted to a bunch of kids, about six or seven years old. They ran across the plaza, crowing with delight. She also wanted children so badly. Victoria was already in her late twenties. Most women her age were already married and had children. Was she wasting the best years of her life waiting for a man who could never marry her, no matter how much he wanted it? Was it fair of Zorro to ask her to wait for him? Before she met Zorro, she'd had dreams.
Victoria walked in, closing the tavern door behind her, and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

She so longed for a baby. A girl with those cute pigtails, a little upturned nose and little dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. A girl who would wrap any don around her tiny finger while 'helping' her mother in the tavern.
Or a naughty boy with a cheeky grin on his face. Which you knew as soon as you turned around, he was up to mischief. And she could expect frequent visits from angry women because her son had again smeared the clean sheets with mud. Also, a boy with the heart in the right place. One who would steal an apple pie from her kitchen to take it to an elderly couple who had almost no food. The couple would be delighted by the treat and offer him a large piece out of gratitude.
Yes, at least a boy and a girl she would like to have, preferably even more.
Victoria envisioned her future children in her mind.

Suddenly a fearful thought overcame her. Did Zorro wish for children? They barely had enough moments to say hello. Things like where they were going to live together and how he envisioned their future, they never got a chance to discuss that sort of things for the simple reason there never was any time.
Zorro could, of course, live with her in the tavern. But she had doubted whether Zorro aspired to live as an innkeeper. Could he be happy then? It was hard to imagine.
Victoria tried to picture Zorro chopping wood for her oven, lugging with tons of beer and wine, or serving the lancers coffee or lunches. It looked laughable.

What then? Did she have to adjust to Zorro's life? What kind of life did Zorro actually have? Most of the men in the region had a farm with some land. Yet he didn't seem like the type to herd cattle or plough, sow, and reap the fields.
Was he a caballero? That role seemed to suit him better. The way he acted showed a good upbringing. Still, she couldn't think of a caballero that could measure up to Zorro's appearance.

Most of the unmarried caballeros were young men. Barely dry behind the ears and still full of a youthful bravado that didn't suit Zorro.
Her fiancée was a man veiled in mystery. Every question Victoria tried to answer only raised more questions.
Would her questions ever be satisfactorily answered?
Could all her dreams come true?

Or would she wake up in a world that was a little less idyllic than in her dreams?