Act II

"Yet a barful strife! Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife."

-1.4

I am the worst kind of fool.

We were to live with cousins, Sebastian and I. We were journeying to them to live after our guardians in Messaline were forced to leave. I should have continued that journey in any way I could. I should have thrown myself on the captain's or the Lady Olivia's mercy, or even the Duke if those had spurned me. I should have begged them to advance me enough money only to carry me safe to my cousins. I should never have attempted this foolish masquerade.

I thought it would be so easy. Had I not been often mistaken for my brother as a child? Could I not wear his clothes, become him as easily as breathing? Surely I could become Cesario as easily—for Cesario was the name I had chosen. How foolish I was! It took barely a day for me to see my error.

For here, surrounded by men, I make mistakes. Even when they expect to see a man, they look at me and blink twice, shake their heads, assure themselves that I am a man. Perhaps it is because I am grown now, and have had a lifetime of being a woman, that it is so difficult for me to step into Cesario's shoes.

I walk differently, talk differently, even sit and eat differently than these men who were raised as boys. I cannot bathe, or shave, or undress in company. I have acquired a reputation for being shy as a woman, for I will not change to my sleeping gown in the quarters I share with four other boys; I insist on wearing my breeches and shirt to bed if I cannot get the privacy I need. I cannot think what I will do when my woman's time comes upon me! The boys think me a strange little lad, this funny new boy in their company.

I have had to watch them unobtrusively, adopt the little tricks and turns that let me fit in more seamlessly. They do not seem to notice the difference now, but in my first day or so here, I received such odd looks...! I think the only reason I am still here, still Cesario in their minds, is because they expect me to be so.

Of course, the only one who does not look at me oddly is the only one I would wish knew who and what I really am.

Orsino.

I was half in love with him before I even met him; I am even deeper in love now. He is all that my father said, and so much more! Handsome, kind, affectionate, gentle, I could go on forever. I could sing his praises until the world burns and the vast, empty sea swallows the ashes.

So of course he is in love, and of course I am not the one that he loves. He likes me, certainly; I am attentive and a good listener, both attributes somewhat lacking in his other attendants. Both qualities expected of a woman, but that is neither here nor there. He does like me, and we are often in company, both a blessing and a curse for me. What is there for me to do?

I cannot comprehend the Lady Olivia. Here is such a man, begging for her love, offering everything he has and is, and she rejects it to mourn instead for a dead brother! I do not condemn her mourning, of course, for I would be the worst sort of hypocrite if I did, I who weep in the silent hours of the night for a brother lost to me. But why should she lock herself away and refuse to live her life? Why should she die herself when it is he who is no longer among the living?

I loved my brother dearly. I still do. But I cannot stop my own heart if his no longer beats. I cannot end my own life when he is lost to me. Woman's heart is soft and malleable, and mine has formed its love upon Orsino. I fear it shall remain ever so, even if I succeed in winning Olivia to his love.

Oh, Sebastian, if you could see your sister now! I have been but four days in Orsino's court.