Victoria's side

I first came to think about who Zorro was a few weeks ago. I had daydreamed about it often before that, of course, who wouldn't wonder who the man they loved really was? It wasn't anything you did that gave you away, but lots of little things I couldn't ignore anymore.

It was the first day of spring, remember? The rose buds were just beginning to open, and perfume had begun to fill the air. Birds had started to nest. Soon there would be new life everywhere. I envied the birds with their happiness.

Don't look so guilty, I am not blaming you. Life is just life sometimes. I would like a baby one day. Before time runs out for me. But that is selfish...People need Zorro to be there for them. I am just one person in a great big world, and a medium sized village. There are tyrants to overthrow, or at least sabotage. But the times we are together get more fleeting, and I get impatient sometimes.

So I decided to find out who Zorro might be. One day I estimated how tall you really were, measuring you against the wall as you stood in the doorway. You didn't stoop to enter the room, but the opening would have brushed the top of your head if you were just an inch taller. So you were tall.

I sat down with my paper and a pencil. You know I am good on paper, since you taught me to read and write when I was ten. I wrote down all the names of tall people that I knew of. I almost didn't put your name on the list. How could clumsy Diego be the graceful Zorro? I put your name down anyway.

I thought about what you might be like under the mask. You had always seemed kind and passionate, ready to help others without really considering the dangers. I couldn't think of anyone tall like that. Your father is like that, but is too old and too short to be Zorro. I didn't consider that you could take after Don Alejandro like that. You always seemed to be careful to the point of mirroring a statue. Too careful to move.

It was a struggle, and a frustrating one, but I didn't screw up the paper and throw it into the fire, even though I was tempted to. I kept it, I could show it to you if you'd like. I've had to smoothe the paper a few things in the last fortnight but it has survived. It is well hidden, I can assure you.

I'm not prepared to tell you where, Diego, so there really is no point in asking me. Sit down and I will pour you something to drink. What should it be? Water? On such an occasion? I would have thought something stronger.

Here is your water, now where was I?

The next time Zorro rode into town to sort the alcalde out, I took note of the people in the plaza at the time. I'm not sure why, because certain people were not outside at that time, and my notes would be not so helpful. I wrote them down on the paper, and compared them to the list of tall men that I had made earlier. I made my mind up that I would keep doing that for as long as it took to cross out each name until there was none left except the man that it must be.

Yes, I know it could have taken me years to fill out. And that Zorro could have come from outside the town, but why would he travel too far? What connection would he have to the people here? Why would he have treated me with such reverence if he didn't know me?

Zorro loved me, and still does, hopefully. I don't believe in love at first sight, no… I lie. To tell the truth, I half fell in love with you, that very first day when you returned to Las Angeles from Spain. If it wasn't for the fact that Zorro swept me up into a whirlwind of love, I would have fallen in love with Diego straight away. Isn't it funny? You seem to be two people, even though you have always been you - Diego de la Vega. Neither of you have been ordinary or normal. It should have been another clue for me.

Well, it only took me two weeks to have a fair idea of what lay under the mask. I didn't know for sure until you admitted it just now. Diego had never met Zorro, and who else could say that? Everyone has met Zorro, at some stage or other.

Last week, when we were alone, I managed to finally catch a glimpse of your eyes. Hazel blue, sometimes clear blue, sometimes darker. Not like your father's. It started me wondering if I had seen those eyes clearly before. Most people have dark eyes, but Zorro doesn't.

I remembered the feel of your shirt and the clean smell that surrounded me in your arms. The material is a smooth fine silk, bought from outside the district. The smell meant that you had the shirt washed and cared for. Either by you yourself, or by someone you trusted. Most men don't usually wash their own shirts, and a man who could afford to buy silk shirts must have money.

Your sword skills are highly trained. They must be as how would Zorro manage to win so many duels? With the alcaldes, with bragging foreigners who wanted to try their luck? Who could afford to be as well trained as that? Not a stable hand or a shepherd. Not in this area.

No, I am talking Diego and you are listening. You will have your turn, let me have mine. Drink your water.

Who has that sort of money? A caballero. Who trains with the best swords men in the world? A caballero. Zorro is a man of great intelligence and insight, and has even quoted poetry. Who educates their sons to that level? Caballeros.

Who is young enough and tall enough to be Zorro? It has to be a caballero, educated and wealthy. Who has never met Zorro? Who cares about people enough to act? Who cares about me so much that he would turn from a statue to an avenging angel at a moment's thought?

The only man it could be. Diego de la Vega. And once the thought came to me, I watched you constantly. When you knew I was looking, when you thought I wasn't. My thoughts were so busy with you, that my flan was spoiled yesterday due to daydreaming.

Am I disappointed? Are you joking? Why on earth would I be disappointed? Am I angry? Maybe...but it will pass. Can I forgive you? Haven't I always?