This is a very very very short little chapter, but Italy vibes only rn. I actually grew up in Northern Italy, in Friuli-Venezia Giulia! It's not exactly Florence or Volterra, but the ambiance is unbeatable. I'm 99% sure there were no vampires in my town, though. But we do have Roman ruins. And excellent food and wine.
Cascare nei tuoi occhi- Ultimo
Coraline- Måneskin
La musica non c'è- Coez
It's true, what they say. The hills have eyes. Or, if I went even furth back to Chaucer, "Fields have eyes and every wood has ears."
I knew I was being watched the moment I took a step on the other side of the mountain. The moon hung crookedly in the sky, half full and small in the summer heat. All the light pollution throughout the continent kept the stars at bay, but Mars was still softly shining, stubborn and lonely.
"Good evening, ma'am," a young vampire said, speaking in a lilting southern Italian accent as he walked through the soft rocky terrain and up to me. There was another vampire nearby, likely purposefully obscuring themself to keep me corralled, or provide backup if needed.
The one in front of me was the one I focused on. He wasn't very tall, only maybe a handsbreadth taller than me. He was attractive enough, even for a vampire, with glossy black hair he kept slicked back and a chiseled face. A light gray cloak was pinned around his neck, parted only enough for me to tell he was wearing dark-wash jeans and some kind of black dress shirt.
"I haven't been called 'ma'am' in quite some time," I said, forcing a smile and trying to appear jovial. I couldn't afford for any member of the Guard, no matter how far removed, to think of me as any sort of threat. The entire journey into the city was fraught with obstacles, and I needed to make sure I made it in with all my limbs intact.
"I'm sorry if I offended you," he said with a hesitant smile in return. I wondered how often someone joked with him.
"No offense taken at all!" I promised. "You know how it is with our kind. I'm young to some, old to others."
"I haven't gotten there yet," he admitted with a laugh, his cheeks dimpling deeply.
"Then you'll understand what I mean in a few decades," I said, joining in on his laughter. My chest was aching with the effort, but I smoothed any wrinkle of concern on my face or cry of pain in my voice away, and I thought I sounded passably amicable.
"Give or take a century," he joked, and I nodded appreciatively with the rapport.
The boy settled down, that combative tension draining from his body. My knees were locked and my ankles still tense, ready to spring into a quick defense if I needed to. From what I could scent out- which was difficult, given the thick air of vampires in this area- there were only these two near, and if he companion was as young as he, they wouldn't be difficult opponents.
I really needed to avoid any kind of conflict, though. I needed to eschew any sort of violence, any semblance or even hint of rule-breaking. Caius would be looking for a reason to do away with me the moment he knew I was physically in the city. The last thing I needed was some baby vampire to get too tough and try to be forceful with me; I didn't know if I would be able to control my temper, and ripping a hand off of a member of the Guard and then waltzing into the city seemed like a profoundly horrible idea.
"My name is Lorenzo," he said in introduction, holding out his hand.
"I'm Isabella," I said, offering mine for a quick shake. His hand was warm and his grip firm, and every instinct in my body recoiled from his touch. There was only one hand I wanted in mine, only one man I wanted to stare at me with the kind of scrutiny Lorenzo was using. "I have an appointment with Aro."
His expression changes, tightening into a passing frown before his smile reappeared, though this time more tense.
"I wasn't told he was expecting anyone."
I shrugged, trying to seem casual, like this was something I did every day and was nothing out of the ordinary. "I assure you he is. Jane was quite insistent that I come as soon as I could, so here I am."
"Jane?" he blanched, turning impossibly paler, his complexion a perfect mirror of the pearly moon.
I understood the reaction. Aro and Caius were certainly terrifying, of course. They had earned that right through brutality and maintained it with an iron fist. Caius was cut-throat and power-hungry, and I could understand how Aro's gift would disturb even the most confident of vampires. To have someone know your every thought and memory, the most intimate moments between yourself and a lover, the most embarrassing stumbles and heartbreaks, every silly passing thought…
It was enough to make even me shudder, and I was the only being I knew of who didn't have to fear that kind of pure exposure.
But Jane could invoke an entirely different kind of terror, and the fact that I had mentioned her so casually and in passing meant, apparently, that I must be someone of some import, at least in Lorenzo's opinion.
He quickly swept into an awkward half-bow, then extended his hand in front of him, offering to accompany me into the city. I knew it wasn't an option to decline, so I took his arm reluctantly and fell in step beside him as we descended the sloping mountainside down to the hills below.
"So where are you from?" he asked, trying to make conversation. I wondered if he thought that endearing himself to me would help him advance in the Guard. I had to hold back a snort at the thought- as if I had any pull here. Everyone I associated with now was tainted by my friendship.
"Originally? Here, actually, but I live in the States now."
"Oh!" he said, brows raising slightly.
"Why do you seem surprised?" I asked.
"Oh, no reason," he said, guiding me to step over a muddy puddle and onto a road that winded up to the city, the pavement cracked and worn.
"No, really," I said insistently.
"It's your accent," he admitted with a wry smile.
"My accent?" I asked in surprise. My accent was fine, flawless. I had spoken Italian pretty much exclusively as a human, and again for the first hundred years of my existence. I was fluent in plenty of other languages, but it wasn't until I met Carlisle that I had a reason to speak anything else for anything but the most brief of conversations.
"It doesn't sound like any I've ever heard," he said sheepishly, glancing over at me nervously. His eyes were a dark red, deep and veering on the edge of black. I wondered how comfortable he would be walking through the crowded city. I knew he was young, and in combination with his diet, control wasn't likely to be his strong suit.
"It was the universal dialect in this region back in my day," I said, trying to force a smile from my grimace to assure him I wasn't offended. "I haven't been here in a while, so I guess I'm kind of behind on the lingo these days."
"Portare male gli anni," he said with a laugh.
"It carries the years badly?" I asked, confused. I understood the words, but the phrase itself was unknown to me.
"Like, it's outdated. But not in an offensive way!"
"Yes," I said with a nod, mock-serious. "I'm definitely behind with the lingo."
He laughed again, a spring in his step that wasn't there before as we strolled down the pathway. His arm flexed under my hand, and I noticed our pace had slowed considerably to one that was almost human. We were close to the city walls, but they seemed more distant than ever, towering and formidable in the dark of the night.
"It's okay. Almost everyone who comes through here hasn't even heard of The Real World, much less seen an episode."
"Oh, you are young!" I exclaimed, though I figured as much. "But you'll be happy to know that not only have I heard of The Real World, I've also seen every episode."
"Seriously? Wow! Are you watching this season, in Austin? Last night's episode was crazy. All the housemates went to a ranch, and Melinda was all confrontational and trying to get Danny to be all emotionally vulnerable and stuff."
"I haven't had the chance to watch this season," I said in apology, but when his face fell I couldn't help but add, "That phone call Shavonda made to her boyfriend after she fell in love with Landon was messy."
"That whole season was messy!" he said excitedly, bouncing back quickly and continuing to chat about his love of all reality television, from The Simple Life to Newlyweds, and even American Idol. Given my long-term proximity to Emmett and Rose, I was more than familiar with every bit of programming that had even a bit of drama.
The air of lightness could only last so long, though. Lorenzo led me through a door carved into the stone of the wall, swinging it open and locking the heavy wood shut behind us with a thick deadbolt that would keep out every human but not even the weakest of vampires.
The tunnel was damp and cold but immediately gave way to a small courtyard. There was a carved fountain in a perfect but miniaturized replication of a Barberini piece. It depicted Triton as a merman, kneeling on the fins of four dolphins, his head thrown back and his arms raising a conch shell to his lips from which water burst forth. Every detail of the statue was perfectly executed, from the papal tiara at the base of the dolphins to the heraldic Barberini bees in the scaly tails.
Everything here was beautifully maintained. The fountain watered a blooming garden at its base, and trimmed grass sprung forth between the bricks on the ground in a contained wildness. We were enclosed by the wall on one side and homes on the other three, each well-manicured and clean with window boxes of flowers and cheery wrought-iron balconies that added a certain, cultivated charm.
It was all fake.
I knew where we were. None of these homes were inhabited by humans, but rather kept empty for the most part, with rooms to spare for members of the Guard such as Lorenzo to leave their belongings while they were out on patrol, trying to make themselves indispensable and work their way up the hierarchy.
It was also something of a reception area, carefully designed to put the entrants at ease. In the moonlight, it almost seemed romantic, the sweet smell of flowers hanging thick in the humid air and the bubbling of water trickling against the stone of the fountain in a babbling melody.
Even if I didn't know what this courtyard was, I would be resistant to its charms. Nothing was particularly interesting here.
None of it was Edward.
Suddenly, the cavernous pain in my chest cracked open, refusing to be ignored by the numbness of idle conversation. This place was all wrong. The flowers should be dead and rotting, the night should be frigid and discomfiting. I sunk down on one of the decorative benches in the garden, my head in my hands as I pressed my palms into my temples. I just wanted it all to stop- the pressure, the ache, the pain.
I had been raging at Alice, internally begging with Edward, but I hadn't stopped and just mourned. And now, what a time to do so! I was well aware of Lorenzo standing beside me, still chatting on about a new show he was watching about doctors in Seattle and promising that someone would be around to meet us shortly, seemingly unaware of my collapse.
Oh! A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.
My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh It was summer when I slept,
It's winter now I waken.
Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warmed sweet tomorrow:-
Stripped bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow.
It's super short, and not sweet. The poem is by Christina Rossetti, and it felt perfectly fitting to end a chapter on, so I couldn't bear to go on.