I didn't want to admit that I have feelings for him. Especially after the last relationship I had experienced. The intensity of these feelings is far more difficult to ignore. How can he have such effects on me, a man I barely know?
The only things that I know are that he's a painter, the Medicis are one of his patrons, and he's contributed to painting the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel. All of which is information that I have is basically from documents my father has researched over the years and things he has yet to do.
I don't believe in love at first sight. What I feel is not love. This is just an attraction and I'm having a hard time containing it because men usually don't impress me right away. What does he do that impresses me anyway?
Despite travelling a day before the festival, we still didn't manage to see the beginning of Calendimaggio. After the parade, Franzia and I went back to where my Aunt Simona and Botticelli are to watch the games.
The first game is a tug of war. Franzia was telling me something about the 2 factions competing but I was too distracted by the way Botticelli is closely studying the movements of random people.
I started to wonder if he memorizes the muscle movements just like Da Vinci and applies them to his works later. It is at this moment that I started to notice the intensity and concentration of a painter on subjects he might get inspiration from.
It somehow reminded me of my father looking through all his books with such attentiveness, one would think his soul has somehow poured into the book and would only come back if he deems it necessary.
"Oh look! They might win!" Franzia suddenly said, bringing my attention back to her. When I look over the game, the people wearing a red doublet won. Everyone applauded and I follow suit.
In the next game is the race of tregge. Seeing as how Franzia was suddenly busy by a man captivated by her beauty, I try to get a closer look and move towards the front to see better.
Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who thought of the same thing. Standing next to me is a grinning Botticelli. "I cannot believe you have left my Aunt Simona," I said, over the cheers of the other audience.
"I didn't leave her. She insisted on talking to her friend so I decided to watch the game." He said, looking at the men running as fast as they could with a sledge in tow. "Besides, you have left your chambermaid as well."
Guilty, I focused on watching the men wearing blue doublets win. "She's busy as well."
When everyone is busy preparing for the next crossbow shooting, knowing full well that I won't be enjoying me in the games I deliberately distance myself from Botticelli and went on the other side. I can't hear myself think or simply be myself near that man. As the game starts, I saw Botticelli treading my way from my peripheral view.
"There are far too many people around, Antonia. You shouldn't part with people you know. You might get lost." He said, his voice a little bit annoyed.
If only you knew that I'm simply running away from you in the hopes that it will alleviate the effects you have on me. "Stop treating me like a child, Botticelli."
"Then stop acting like one." He said in a low and stern voice. With my brow creases in annoyance, I walked away without thinking. Trying to think was far too difficult to do when he was around. "Antonia, wait!" He said with urgency.
Rolling my eyes, I continue walking to a less crowded space when suddenly I felt someone grab me. Everything happened so fast and as soon as I gather my wits, I saw myself on top of Botticelli. Our faces are inches apart.
We're so close, our noses are almost touching each other. It took me a while to react. Pushing myself off of him, I stood up and looked at him with exasperation. "What were you doing?"
As he got up, Franzia runs towards me and so are a few people. "Oh my! Are you alright?!" Not realizing what happened, I looked at Botticelli once again, dusting himself off when I noticed the arrow on the wall and my flower crown on the ground.
When I have put two and two together, Botticelli has already walked away with a disgruntled look on his face.
When we're eating supper, Botticelli is nowhere to be found. Aunt Simona has declared in a low and stern voice that we will talk more of this matter. The celebration continues at night. Due to the fiasco of me almost becoming a target for the crossbow shooting, Aunt Simona has ordered Franzia to keep me in sight.
The fires lit up the street as everyone danced. It is then that I saw Botticelli alone as he watches the dance.
"I'm going to head over to Botticelli," I told Franzia.
She nodded and said, "Stay close."
When I was half in, he stiffens as he realized I'm on my way toward him. Guilt-ridden, I lean on the wall and look down. "I apologize. For everything. Thank you for saving me as well."
It took a while before he responded. "The important thing is that you're safe. Try not to walk in front of the targets next time." Sensing the humour in his voice, I finally look up and saw him smirking which in turn, makes me smile.
When the music changed, Franzia grabbed me and said, "Let's dance!" Having little to no time to react, I allow her to drag me towards the rest of the others that are dancing. Franzia teaches me the dance and after a while, I was able to dance along with everyone.
As the fire continues to burn, as the Tambourines and violins continue to play amazing melodies, I became part of many that welcome spring.
When the Madonna Primavera has finally elected, we all applauded as she was carried on a chair to be paraded in the city. She looks so divine in her golden gamurra and white giornea. "She looks beautiful," I said, with Franzia nodding in agreement. I felt Botticelli's eyes on me, making me look back at him. "Is there anything wrong?" His only reply is a smile and trail after the Madonna Primavera.
After a long journey back to Florence, I immediately lay down on the bed in exhaustion. Looking over my nightstand, I noticed that the other stone is missing. I forgot that I didn't bring it along with me.
Fearing that I have lost it, I run downstairs as fast as I can. The voices, however, stopped me in my tracks. I can hear Botticelli and Aunt Simona talking just outside the door.
"How is that even possible?" Botticelli asks, his voice carefully low and quiet.
"I don't know. Perhaps there are still mysteries for us to uncover." Aunt Simona said in reply.
"I thought Ailbe has informed you everything about it?"
"It appears she's still holding back some information from us." Aunt Simona then sighed. "I am no longer certain that she will show herself again to enlighten me this time."
"Is that why you're giving this to me?"
"Simonetta gave the stone to you for a reason and it's always been hers to give not me."
The conversation I overheard was too difficult to ignore. Sitting on the bed, I couldn't help but think about what they were talking about. Who is Ailbe? How is it that Botticelli knows about the stone? Is Botticelli even friends with my mother? Highly possible that there are close since she has given her the stone but why?
After supper, Aunt Simona did berate me in my room. "A lady should not have acted so hastily and irrationally as you did. I am deeply disappointed in you." She said as she walks back and forth in my room. "You have endangered not just yourself but also Sandro."
Sitting on my bed, I fidget, being uncomfortable to see Aunt Simona like this towards me. "With all due respect, Aunt Simona but I have already apologized to Botticelli."
She snapped her head towards me, immediately regretting speaking at all "I understand that you may have lacked the guidance of a woman growing up but from now on you will act accordingly!" She's right. My uncle kept telling me that I'm stubborn because I got it from my father but it might have been because I never truly have a woman to look up to. I only had my dad and Uncle. Then again, maybe I'm just blaming something else for my behaviour. "Now, I did not bring this up before because I did not want to humiliate you in front of other people. I must let you sleep now. Good night, Antonia."
She looked at me expectantly, waiting for a proper response. Clearing my face with any emotion, I look up at her and spoke. "Good night, Aunt Simona." With that, she left my room quietly, leaving me with my thoughts.
With only a candle to light my room, I held the stone in my hands looking at the half-circle on the back. Thinking about all these unanswered questions, I place the stone down on the nightstand once again and blow off the flame.