It's the golden boy's 22nd birthday. The charming co-ruler of Florence celebrates his birthday along with the whole city. Everyone is thrilled to witness the sport.
Looking around, I see almost a lot of women watching the game ahead. Women of this era only ever get to go outside during festivals or in the games and they always make sure they give a lasting impression.
All of them are wearing such great dresses and have prepared their hair elaborately. Sitting next to Aunt Simona and Semiramide, I quietly search for my friends. When I couldn't find them, I decided to focus on the tournament.
The majority of the participants are from noble families. I didn't realize how magnificent these men would look in armor while on horseback with a lance.
The audience cheers on their preferred participant. After a while, Giuliano was up next. His helmet is still open as he looks for someone in the audience. When he sees me, he smiles and waves at me before securing it on his face for protection.
I suddenly felt scared to watch. I know he's quite good at the sport but I still worry about the things that might happen that could cause him to be hurt.
As they begin, he rides steadily and aims his lance at the opponent's chest. As they meet halfway, Giuliano successfully hits the opponent and wins the round. As he goes back, he stops by in front of me and bows before heading back to the other side.
The gesture earned the attention of the crowd, especially the women.
Semiramide gasps and whispers in my ear. "I wasn't aware that a Medici fancies you, Antonia."
I only smiled in response. When it was Lorenzo's turn, Botticelli suddenly came into view. "Hi, forgive me but can you come with me?"
Looking over at my Aunt Simona for permission, she nodded then I gracefully stood up and walk towards Botticelli. He then leads me away from the crowd. When everyone is out of earshot, he looks me in the eyes with enthusiasm. "I finally remembered your key."
My heart suddenly beats harder in my chest in anticipation. "What is it then?"
"Constantine made a key specifically for one particular place he left all his belongings he did not want to bring back in his time. He said he will be passing it down to you."
"Do you know where this place is?"
"He left markings on the key as a hint."
I immediately fish out the key from my pocket and inspect the key. Suddenly I saw the words in modern English inscribe on the shaft. S. Tomb. The realization hits me. "It's in her tomb."
"Whose tomb?"
I look up at him and said, "Simonetta's tomb."
I immediately walk towards the Church of Ognissanti when Botticelli runs to catch up with me. "How was he able to place it in her tomb? She was not dead when he left."
"Yes, but he knew that the Church of Ognissanti is where Vespucci will likely be buried in. After all, it is the Vespucci chapel."
As we enter the church, I look for anything opening or door of any kind that will lead me to where my father kept the gift for me. My mother's tomb however is sealed shut on the floor with no openings whatsoever. Sighing in frustration, I dropped to my knees and said, "It's impossible. There's nothing in here."
Suddenly, something moved. When I look behind me, it's Botticelli lifting a secret stone door from the ground. "Something is here." I stood up and walk closer to him. The door was situated by the foot of her tomb.
The inscription meant something else. Looking up at Botticelli, I wonder if he knew what this will be for his future.
The door revealed a door with a brass knob. I fish out my key and try to unlock it. As I twist it, I heard a clicking sound, unlocking the door. I open it to reveal a dark room. We carefully walk down the stairs that lead to a room.
Botticelli brings a lit candle with us and lights the other candles in the room. As soon as the light brightens the room, I was left with so much awe. A coffer and a chest lay at the end of the room. When I move closer to the note by the coffer written by my father. I read it out loud.
Here, I lay my earnings from working with the Medicis and the other families I have helped with my knowledge in this century. Use this as a dowry or for whatever things may you need.
—Dad
I dropped the note and went towards the other chest. Apart from books, there are many letters, clothes, and other jewelry. The letters were addressed to me in handwriting I do not know. When I look at a journal, the initials stand out. S.C.
"It's Simonetta's," Botticelli says as he stays by the stairs. "I recognize the journal."
My astonishment has rendered me speechless. Both of them have left me something: My father has secured me financially: and my mother left me her things.
As I rummage through the chest, I saw something familiar. The same thing I saw a few days ago on her tomb. I'm not sure if it's a necklace or a bracelet. I thought it was the same thing until I saw the markings by the edge.
Caoimhe.
The cheers from the tournament get louder by the minute. "We need to head back," I said, standing up. "Before somebody suspects, we're gone." Botticelli nodded in understanding. When we were outside, I took the key and lock it before bringing the stone cover down and heading back.
By the time we were back, Giuliano was declared the winner. His eyes were searching for someone as he accepts his victory. When he walks back, our eyes finally met. I smiled and cheer for him as he walks.
His eyes switch from Botticelli, who is standing next to me, then back to me but smiles upon gazing at me.
After the tournament, other games were held such as archery and something that resembles soccer. As the sports continue, Giuliano makes his way toward me with a smile. "Antonia." He said as he stands in front of me. The eyes that follow him distract me.
"Happy Birthday. I'm sorry I wasn't able to bring you anything. I don't know what I can give you." I said as I pinch my lips in shame.
"It's fine, Antonia but perhaps I can ask something from you as a gift for my birthday?" He said with a playful grin.
Laughing, I nodded then say, "Alright, so long as I can do it."
"I only ask for your kiss."
Biting my lip in shyness, I look around us at people still watching us. "Perhaps I can give you your gift in a less crowded place?"
"Of course." He said, grinning widely in anticipation. "Come, I want you to meet someone." He then links his arms with mine and leads me toward his family. Suddenly nervous, I unconsciously gripped his sleeves as I stiffen. Noticing my growing anxiety, Giuliano envelopes my hand to his as he smiles.
"Mother, I like you to meet Antonia Gorini." He said smiling broadly at her.
Lucrezia Tornabuoni, the political adviser for his sons, stood elegantly as her eyes look me up from head to toe. Her brown eyes are as dark as Giuliano's and they have studied me profusely before smiling lightly my way. "Ah, I'm so glad to finally meet you, Antonia. I've heard so much about you."
"It's a pleasure, Madonna," I said, smiling as I bow to her.
"Your face. It's as if I've seen you before." She said, lightly furrowing her brows as she speaks.
"She greatly resembles Simonetta, does she not mother?" Giuliano said as he looks at me.
"Yes, so much so. It's so eerie." Her eyes still linger on my face. I don't know why but I feel something sinister in her eyes.
"Simonetta is a relative of mine, Madonna," I said, now feeling uncomfortable with her lingering gaze.
"Do you, now? Well, that explains it." After that, she was approached by someone and then excuses herself. I felt relief as soon as she left. After that, Giuliano also introduced me to his older sisters Bianca and Nannina who are incredibly amiable. Then, we head to his brother's family.
"Brother," Giuliano said as he hugs his older brother Lorenzo who hugs him back. When both pulled away, Giuliano gestured toward me. "You remember, Antonia."
"Yes, I'm so happy you could celebrate with us." He said smiling. I only smiled in response, still overwhelmed by Giuliano's insistence on me meeting everyone in his family.
"This is my brother's wife, Clarice." She only bows and then focuses her attention on her children.
"Pleasure to meet you," I said, though she no longer looked at me. That's when I notice the girl who looked so familiar.
She looks up at me as she grins then walks towards me. "You're the pretty lady!" She said, her eyes big in amusement.
"I remember you," I said, kneeling to meet her eyes.
"I see you have met my niece Maria," Giuliano said, as he looks on at us.
"What a lovely name you have," I said, still smiling at the child.
"I don't know yours." She said, pouting a little as she does so.
"My name is Antonia."
The child giggles in response. "Come! Let's watch the games!" She said as she takes my hand and leads me through the crowd of the audience.
"Slowly, Maria!" Clarice cried as the two of us walked.
Maria is such a free-spirited child. I see myself in her. She is such a talkative sweet child and a ball of energy. She would lead me all over the piazza as Giuliano trails behind us.
As lively as she is, she immediately feels tired and decided to come back to her mother. Before doing so, she kissed me goodbye on my cheek which warms my heart.
"It seems my niece has taken a liking towards you as well," Giuliano said as we sit down next to each other.
"She's a very lovely child." As happy as I was spending time with her, I couldn't help but wonder if this is how it would feel like to have a child of my own.
"She is." As we look in the distance, seeing people enjoying the games and having fun with the feast, I felt his hand on mine. When I look up at him, he tenderly gazes at me as he smiles.
"You complete my day." Then he slowly leans closer to me. When he's inching closer, I instinctively close my eyes and savor his soft lips against mine.
His kisses are ever so gentle, as I feel the fluttering in my stomach. The kiss was short and sweet but it made me feel so much more for him. As we look at the crowd again, I saw a familiar face looking at me.
His face is barely readable but his eyes tell me he's unhappy. Botticelli looked away as soon as he realizes I was looking back.
"Aunt Simona?" I said as I reach the parlor. She's sipping tea when she looked over her shoulders and then smiles.
"Antonia. Come sit next to me." She said, placing the teacup by the table and sitting upright.
I sit next to her and then look around, making sure that Semiramide is not in the room. When it's evident that she's not, I lean closer to her and whisper, "Who is Ailbe?"
She blinks multiple times before speaking. "How do you know her?"
"From this," I said, fishing out the gold jewelry I took from my mother's grave and handing it to her. "I heard you and Botticelli talking about her. I didn't bring it up before because I did not see her importance until I saw this. Please, Aunt Simona, tell me."
She takes the jewelry in her hand and rubs her thumb on the markings on it. As she eyes the golden jewelry, her smile softens with familiarity. "She's my friend. I met her back in Genoa. The only thing I know about her is that she's also from England and that she knows of the stone. She's very reserved and as close as we are, she never told me much about her life." Handing over the jewelry back, her smile turns bitter. "She's a very peculiar one."
Disappointed, I lean back on the settee and sigh. "I was hoping you know more about her. I just have so many questions."
"Forgive me, my darling. I don't have the answers you were looking for. If you wish to look for Ailbe, what I can tell you is that she only appears whenever she wants to. You can never find her unless she allows you."
Accepting defeat, I nodded in response. "Thank you, Aunt Simona."
I couldn't bring myself to sleep. Seeing the gift of my father only adds more questions than answers. This woman called Ailbe must be the key to everything. I wish she would let me see her.
A sudden realization dawned on me. Her name sounds very particular. It may be odd but I could only think of one thing. Ailbe means white in Gaelic. Then I look over the manuscript on the table.
If my theories are correct, it could only mean that Ailbe is a Celtic woman. The Celts have a priestess they call druids who dress in white and carry the knowledge in their minds, having memorized all of their histories.
I don't know how she managed to be in Italy as a Brittonic Celt but now, more than ever, I need to talk to her. She has every answer that I need.