I'm not quite sure what to think of it. Perhaps courtly love? I can no longer be sure. As we continue looking at his paintings, he suddenly passed by me and discreetly brushes his fingers with mine.
It may have been a simple deed but it has made me forget about everything else and made my heart beat fast. I never thought that a discreet light touch can bring about the most intense feelings in me. When we're all done, Aunt Simona and I prepare to leave.
"Thank you for this wonderful opportunity, my friend." She said, smiling as she gracefully stood her ground.
"It's always a pleasure."
When Aunt Simona turned around and walk away, I went on to follow suit until he grabbed my hand and kisses it gently. "I'll see you tomorrow." He whispers.
Blushing, I can only nod in response. As he slowly brings my arms down, I run towards my Aunt to catch up with her. As we head home, I saw a pink dahlia by a window, making me smile as my thoughts are with Botticelli.
It's Aunt Simona's 43rd birthday. She never married despite the long list of great matches for her. At least, that's what I thought. Turns out that she has married once and he died early due to consumption. It's one of the reasons why she's one of the richest women in Genoa.
She decided to move to Florence to look after her favorite niece and we all know what happens afterward. I think, one of the reasons why she supported my mother despite going on the road of adultery is because she knew she wasn't in love with Marco.
Marrying her love was a very fortunate thing but my mother never got to know what it is. Sometimes I wonder if what Alec did was karma. Wearing the dress, Aunt Simona insisted that I wear beautiful jewelry to match my status.
When I got downstairs, there were a lot of people already. Their conversations seemed to have died down upon my descent. I bowed to all of them and they reciprocated.
Their stares tell me that they must be thinking I am my mother. Aunt Simona introduced me to every single one of her guests. I've always been good at remembering people but in this case, there are far too many faces and names to remember that I can barely memorize anything.
They have only one thing to say to me though. "Her resemblance to our Simonetta's very uncanny." The only person I want to see is yet to come. Suddenly, someone came in fashionably late.
"Ah, my friend you're finally here!" Aunt Simona said, welcoming the man with long black hair and eyes. Everyone else simply stops and pays attention to him. For someone as average looking, he sure has a commanding presence.
"Forgive my tardiness. There were some situations in the bank I couldn't simply leave." He said, his voice was rather harsh and intimidating but my Aunt's smile was unwavering.
"The important thing is that you're here." His gaze then traveled to everyone attending and gave them nods until his sights befall me. My Aunt followed his gaze. "Ah, I see you have seen my niece Antonia." Aunt Simona urged me to come closer to them. "Antonia, this is the great Lorenzo de'Medici."
When she said Lorenzo, I almost tripped. I wasn't expecting him to be so average for someone as great as he is. I suddenly feel bad describing him as average. I bowed toward him and he followed suit. "It's a pleasure, Messer Medici."
"The pleasure is all mine." He said, then furrows his brows. "You seem rather familiar."
Smiling thinly, I nodded. "Yes, I have been receiving comments on my resemblance to my late distant cousin."
He only nodded but his eyes trailed at me. It's difficult to read him, I just hope that neither my parents have angered him because if they did, then I just made an enemy to the most powerful man in Europe. "Giuliano's not with you?" Aunt Simona said, breaking the silence.
His eyes finally shifted away from me. "I'm afraid he's in Rome at the moment."
"Oh, of course, you two are always busy."
"If you'll excuse me," I said, smiling as I walk away from them.
As I grab a wine to drink, I noticed someone looking at me. Someone I don't know is looking straight at me when I look over. Not knowing what to do, I simply ignore him and try to mingle with different people.
A few moments later, I suddenly befriended the young Lorenzo di'Pierofrancesco who seems to be just as gifted as his cousin Lorenzo di Medici.
"Good evening, Madonna." When I look up, the beautiful smiling frame of Botticelli came into view.
All I wanted to do is hug him but since it was a proper function, I can only bow and smile at him. "Good evening, Messer."
"Forgive me but my cousin needs me." The young man said, then walk towards the crowd.
My eyes went back to Botticelli, grinning like a kid. "You're incredibly late," I whispered.
He only chuckled. "Yes, I was doing something important in my workshop. It took longer than I expected."
"I see." Then I sip on my wine. "I wasn't expecting the feast to be this big."
"Now you see the influence your Aunt Simona possesses."
I nodded. "She's also friends with the Medicis."
"As I said, she's a very charming woman."
I hid my smile as I slip on my wine once again.
Suddenly, someone else called upon Botticelli that left me alone for a while. At least, for a short while, for the man who has stared at me earlier stands before me. "Forgive me for staring earlier, Madonna. I couldn't help but notice the similarities you have with my late wife." My eyes instantly widen. He isn't just any other man. This tall human in front of me is my mother's husband and I don't know what to do. "My name is Marco Vespucci. It's a pleasure to meet you, Madonna Antonia Gorini."
"A pleasure indeed, Messer Vespucci."
I suddenly feel uncomfortable. He didn't know it but I am the result of his late wife's infidelity. It's difficult to act normally when one possesses knowledge such as scandalous as this. "I couldn't help but notice that you're familiar with Botticelli."
I look up at him again, nodding and then smiling before speaking. "Yes. He's currently working on a portrait my Aunt Simona has commissioned."
"I see. The way he gazes at you reminds me of the way he once gazed at my late wife." He said, before gulping his wine.
"What do you mean?"
"He fancied her, Madonna. I am aware of his unrequited love for her."
I didn't want to believe it but after seeing the sketch of my mother's face in his workshop and seeing how he looked at me when he first saw me at her burial, I couldn't bring myself to deny it any longer. What if he only likes me because I resembled her? Is he seeing her whenever he looks at me? All these thoughts are dangerous, I can already feel myself spiraling down.
After my conversation with Marco, I avoided Botticelli the whole evening. Making excuses to not see or talk to him. It was difficult, especially whenever I see him looking at me. He still has a great effect on me, only now, I can feel my heart breaking knowing that he only ever sees the face of my deceased mother instead of me.