He opened his eyes again an hour later, he returned to see the light: a strong and blinding light that led him for a few moments to have to squeeze his eyes.
He couldn't see much for the first few moments, everything seemed blurry, colorless, and his head ached immensely.
Juniper had now found himself there, lying on the bed he didn't know, in a situation that was not used to his regular lifestyle.
He was afraid, but he did not want to admit it, he did not want to be weak, no longer, and in so doing the young baron was able with all his strength to get up on his back and rest his back on the heavy and woody headboard of his bed.
Everything mysteriously became clearer, everything appeared full of colour, as usual and slowly he remembered what had happened in the previous hour.
He remembered brief images and emotions: he remembered his anger, his own fight with Gilbert, the scream, feeling with the deafening sound of the shot a strong pain, the blood, the screams that were choked in his throat.
Juniper remembered everything perfectly well and was sure, briefly searching in his body if the bullet was still there in his flesh.
He felt several times every part of his body and ended, painfully to find that the bullet was still there, right next to his liver.
He noticed a hole, which on his side he hoped hadn't met the lungs or some other vital organ.
But to his surprise it seemed that no more blood came out of the open wound, nor that it was possible to feel any kind of pain on his chest.
It was as if everything had mysteriously disappeared. Was it probable that he was dead? Could this have been the end of him?
He looked up at his room again, nothing seemed to have changed.
The tools still stained with blood were carefully placed in a large tray on his bedside table, but it seemed that no cure had been presented to his wound.
Instead, he recognized another presence inside his room, a female presence, which seemed innately familiar to him.
He recognised her long golden curls, those expressive and maternal sea-coloured eyes, that pretty and adorable face covered on her delicate cheeks with a particular delicate blush.
She was his mother, he recognised her, even though it couldn't be true.
His mother had been dead for seven years now.
She seemed to be involved in her sewing: her great and unique passion for art.
She was holding the small loom with one hand and carefully observing with her upper hand what movements to make the small iron needle go through.
She seemed to be embroidering the figure of a small flower with pink and lively petals: a lily, her favourite flower.
The baron remembered it by heart: the strong smell of the perfumes that the woman used on her body.
Juniper knew his mother had given up her strong passion for the arts at the age of sixteen, when she married his father and she became pregnant.
She had renounced her passions and her youth to raise her son, and for this the young Baron was grateful and loved her, more than any other person he had ever knew.
The woman was young and in her youth she seemed to be waiting for something with a lot of patience and calm, almost with a continuous and strong hope.
She observed her son from time to time, she caressed his face, touched his curly hair, but everything seemed to have changed when the woman seemed to pick up on her son's face again some sign of life.
Their gazes met briefly with some surprise, a particular affection.
His mother lifted her composed figure from her chair and approached the young man's body, holding him in a strong hug.
-Thank God, you are not dead Juniper! You are here now...you are with me- his mother whispered softly in one of his ears giving him a particular calm.
That voice, the grip on that beautiful and warm body, reminded him of his childhood, when he was a child: it made him feel good.
- Look at how you have grown, you have become an adult...- said the woman lovingly returning to caress the delicate face of her son and removing some curls from his sweaty forehead - yet you always remain my child, the most important person in my life. The little one I gave birth to and hugged on my chest once you came into the world- the woman finished with a nostalgic air, looking at Juniper's face.
-Mother...- replied the young man with tears in his eyes from happiness and emotion, shrinking his body to that of the woman -I have missed you incredibly, for all these years ...- said the young baron, placing his face against the shoulder of the mother and burst into a nostalgic and desperate cry.
Juniper felt on his skin the long hair of the noble woman and this made him feel safe, protected from all that bad could happen to him.
At the same time Ella was gently stroking her son's soft hair, she would do anything for him and they both knew it.
She was sitting on the bed, beside her son's wounded body, calming his crying as a mother should. While keeping her sweet gaze at the window panes, it was pouring with rain and it was cold all around them.
She looked at the dark sky, even more obscured by the black clouds and the heavy rain, which made huge drops fall on the earth.
-This weather, Juniper...it reminds me of the night you came into the world- said his mother as she left the bed beside her son, and as if enchanted by it she approached the magnificent window.
-I still remember that night...I had just turned sixteen and your father was already in his fifties- Ella began to tell with nostalgia, taking her small and delicate hands one inside the other -we were connected by a marriage of interest, organised from your uncle, my older brother, directly with the baron himself-.
Juniper was silent, saying nothing to hear what his mother had to say, he seemed interested.
-I was not willingly married with your father: nor he seemed handsome, nor equally good-natured- confessed Ella starting to fiddle with a lock of her blond hair -but it was my job to be with him and in that same year you were born, Juniper - the woman continued in her story -...that night it was snowing perhaps the coldest night I can ever remember-.
One of the lightning stroke the dark sky, making the infirmary room shine in all darkness.
And at that image, at that precise moment, it was almost possible to observe, in all that light, a deep and bleeding cut on her throat.
-Now neither I nor your father are alive, but looking at you...looking at your eyes I can glimpse your father...his gaze- the woman turned back to her son, letting her hair fall on her chest up to her womb placing one of her hands, covered by white gloves on her lips.
-Mother...- whispered the young baron, continuing to keep within himself the pain caused by his aching head -I'm really sorry...- he lowered his gaze, observing the white and precious blankets above his cold body.
-You have absolutely done nothing, you are my son and you are your father's son, but do not let his sins fall on you...you must be strong even when I will not be able here anymore!- she returned to caress the face of her son smiling at him lovingly.
At this affirmation Juniper's heart took a hard pain: he had already lost his mother once and now at that moment that he had found her again, he could not accept to loose her again.
He would have suffered too much.
-Mother...- Juniper begged crying and grabbing her hand as hard as possible -please take me with you! I can't stay alive, not without you ...-.
At those words, the woman took her son's chin forcefully and pushed him to look into her eyes -don't say that at all! You still have too many things to do in this life: you have a wife, a child that will soon be born and a war to fight-.
-War? - Those words seemed to Juniper impossible and almost senseless.
Could Isabelle be right? Could an actual second war against France take place?
-A great war will happen- confessed the woman, looking back out the window -and it will be a war where winners and losers will not be given: a just war, without any nation and any prize...it's up to you alone, my son, to take sides for the just cause- the woman prayed, taking his hands again.
-Now close your eyes, there isn't much time left...- and having said this, the mother placed her delicate fingers on Juniper's eyes slowly lowering his lids.
He opened his eyes immediately after and as before a great light struck him.
It was as if he again he was awake, if he again he opened his eyes to the world.
Juniper tried again to touch where his wound was, but instead of an open and bleeding wound, he noticed that his abdomen was wrapped in various layers of medical bandages.
The room was the same, nothing had changed, every detail was as before.
He felt his head with two of his fingers and noticed through a bump that when he fell he had probably taken a bad blow to the head as well.
His mother was no longer there, he was alone in the room.
The baron noticed that the sky was very dark and thus realised that the short time, which seemed to him a half hour, had actually been much longer.
It was now night and he was alone in the cold room.
He felt as if all of this had been a dream, one beautiful dream.
Juniper smiled, he was still alive.