feather five
1300 Words
Asleep beneath the blankets and pillows, she almost disappears among them, burying herself in miserable tears.
Just sobs, no tears...
She doesn't know what bad luck has befallen her. She doesn't want to see anyone.
She doesn't answer those who call her, only retreating to her bed as usual when she receives such news.
She sighs with even greater despair, seeing herself a prisoner of this house.
Every time she thinks she'll escape its clutches, she finds herself trapped, it clinging to her tighter and tighter.
A sigh of exasperation comes from the woman standing at her bedroom door, muttering,
then a sigh of relief, as she says in Italian, "Grazie a Dio sei venuta, cara..."
(Thank God you came, dear... She won't respond to me...) Her tone in her last words is one of indignation.
A pat on the shoulder, and she leaves with dissatisfied murmurs,
then silence fills the place, broken only by the sound of approaching footsteps. The shivering woman in her bed sighed in exasperation, especially as
she felt the blanket being pulled off her,
and his lazy, bored voice said, "Are you going to sleep all the time?"
She tried to grab the blanket to hide beneath it, saying in a muffled voice,
Vai via
"Leave me alone..."
But he didn't; instead, he threw the blanket aside, saying with even more boredom, "As if it's the first time... Get up..."
"No... Leave me alone..."
Her desperate words made him purse his lips to the side,
and she gasped as he yanked her hair hard to lift her head, almost dragging her along,
with his command, "Forza...alzati, corvo gracchiante..."
(Come on... get up, you croaking crow...) " She tried to escape him by wriggling and pulling her hair from his grasp,
with her indignant cries,
but he let go of her hair, only to grab her leg; and She falls off the bed,
and he says firmly, yet playfully, "Come on, get up, corvo ... It's my engagement party..."
His tone takes on a hint of amused sarcasm as he adds slyly,
"Don't be bitter. The death of your new fiancé doesn't make you resentful of other people's engagements..."
She moans miserably, almost crying,
cursing him, saying, " maledetto bastardo..."
(You damned, bastard... )
He laughs as he helps her up from her fall until she stands upright.
He looks at her sad face with a particular gleam, then pushes her towards the dressing room,
ordering her, " Come on... get dressed..."
He moves to leave, adding, "Non fare tardi, corvo...
" ( Don't be late, corvo... )
She puts on her prepared clothes, which were already arranged in their place,
and goes to the vanity to apply some light makeup suitable for her black dress. She glanced at him with sad displeasure;
As if she had sensed what was coming, she had chosen a dress the color of mourning ...
Damn it...
She sighed, trying to gather her hair with an almost nervous irritability.
She wished she could leave it unstyled, to hide her features from everyone,
but it would look unkempt, unpolished, and she would incur the disapproval of the women present...
And she already had enough of their whispers about how unlucky she was, with every suitor dying...
She gathered her hair and tied it high, revealing her somewhat plump face, with its delicate makeup.
She sighed, looking at herself with a critical eye.
She didn't like how she looked; she looked gloomy;
But doesn't she have the right to do that? She longs to retreat and weep, to mourn her fiancé who was killed yesterday, and herself before him! But that bastard Matteo, and his engagement scheduled for tonight, won't let her.
She mutters a bitter curse directed at him. She slips on her black high heels and moves to leave her room, descending the stairs. She steps out the door and into the garden where the party is being held. There, all eyes turn to her, scrutinizing and criticizing her, then whispering uneasily about the fate of her murdered fiancé.
As if it were her fault! She exhaled sharply, raising her head proudly, and swayed gracefully, forcing a smug smile at some of the attendees. She headed towards Julia, kissing her cheek with a blessing: " Congratulations, Julia... "
Beside her, Matteo glanced at her black clothes with a half-smile, suppressing a laugh.
She noticed it and approached him, rising on tiptoe to lightly kiss his cheek, whispering spitefully near his ear: " I hope your engagement party is ruined, you bastard..."
He pursed his lips to stifle his laughter, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He replied gleefully: " Like a spiteful old woman in mourning clothes ... all you need is a black veil over your face... Enough! You 'll curse us like your departed fiancés..."
" Damn you, Matteo... I hope you get a bullet in your ass! "
" She 's no different from your stupid head... "
His smile widens.
He replies rudely, " Then you'll be the one to treat her ... No one but you, Corvo, will ever see my ass... "
She grits her teeth in anger, her eyes blazing, and recoils from him in fury.
She turns her back to him,
and he calls after her with amusement, " Keep that dress... It 'll be suitable for the funeral in a few days... I 'll get you a face veil..."
She turns, her gaze burning him, muttering curses and insults that rain down on his head.
He returns to Julia, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
" You upset her, Matteo... You shouldn't have said that to her... "
His lips twist into an amused smile.
He replies nonchalantly, mockingly,
" She's used to it..."
Julia groans sadly, feeling sorry for Bena...
Who moved At the party, she saw men's wary glances;
As if she were a curse, that if she got close to them, she would destroy them... As if it were in her hands, here she was, seventeen and a half years old, and her third fiancé had already been killed.
In their family and their world, a girl could be engaged at the age of three, or even before she was born. It was nothing more than a deal, or a way to strengthen ties between families to ensure loyalty and the smooth running of interests. She was no exception. She had been engaged at the age of fourteen, and her first fiancé was killed a year later.
The second engagement was arranged a month and a half after the first's death , and he was killed three months later
. She spent her time in despair.
A year and a half later, her engagement was renewed, and her third fiancé met the same tragic fate .
After she turned seventeen and a half, the resentment of those around her only intensified . As if she were the one stealing their souls...
She turns back to glare at the group with resentment,
Then she throws a hateful, scowling look at Matteo; at him and his engagement to Julia,
which is no different from her own; their engagement is a ploy to unite the two families for personal gain.
And that scoundrel Matteo provokes her with mocking teasing
, so she sighs miserably, cursing him, perhaps he 'll choke on his drink, or swallow his hateful tongue,
as he laughs, taunting her ...
But Hugo approaches her, kissing her cheek and laughing
: " Don't frown like that.. ."
She sighs, saying irritably : " They look at me like I'm a curse ... "
He laughs, pulling her closer,
correcting her: " Bina's soul - reaper... "
***********
Finito
Arrivederci
Good bye
- Writer
