Just like Ophelia [eng]

CHAPTER THREE:

On quiet nights in Roccaflora, when silence enveloped the village, and only the song of the river broke the absence of sounds, the old Lord Alaric would retire to his study. There, surrounded by shelves of ancient books and yellowed parchments, the past would come back to haunt him.

He, who had once been young, with lively eyes and a heart full of dreams. In those days, the village of Roccaflora was different, less prosperous, but still charming, adorned by its glittering river and lush fields. It was in that tranquility that he had met the woman who would change the course of his life.

The name of that woman was Isabella, a figure as mysterious as she was fascinating, born into the aristocracy of a village near Roccaflora.

But while young Lord Alaric had fallen deeply in love with her, Isabella's heart did not respond in the same way. She was an ambitious woman, raised in a family of great influence and power in her hometown. Their meeting, at first glance, seemed like a dream come true for both of them. Isabella had accepted Lord Aric's courtship as an act of mutual love, but the hidden reality was quite different.

In fact, the two families, that of Lord Alaric and that of Isabella, had been involved in a power struggle for generations. The rivalry between the two dynasties had arisen from ancient disputes over territories and resources, all things I never quite understood personally. At the time, it seemed that only a marriage could put an end to this age-old discord. And here Isabella, the young heir of the rival family, had been chosen as a tool for this apparent peace.

While Lord Alaric had truly fallen in love with Isabella. This Isabella never expected it because everything would have complicated things. Indeed, she never returned his feelings. She remained cold and impassive, we could even say professional. She was an ambitious woman, raised with the awareness that her marriage to Lord Alaric was the only bond capable of uniting two factions that had been fighting for generations. Her ambitious soul, in fact, could not be contained within the stone walls of the family home. The marriage was seen by young Isabella and Lord Alaric as a necessary sacrifice, but Isabella saw it differently.

Before there was marriage, that is when the conflict between the families intensified, Isabella saw the opportunity to leave her family of origin, joining an even more powerful dynasty. Their marriage, seen by the people as an act of love, had actually been a convenience agreement on her part, a means to achieve freedom, fame, power, and social status. From a young age, she had dreamed big, aspiring to a fame that went beyond the boundaries of her hometown.

And Lord Alaric came from a respectable family, certainly of a higher social rank, who had always lived in the heart of Roccaflora, which is why for Isabella's family it was always difficult to overcome them.

Alaric was a kind man with an artistic spirit, a lover of poetry and melodies. But his free spirit was imprisoned by the traditions of the place, which prevented him from freely pursuing his dreams. He would have been the perfect victim.

But how to attract attention? Well: it was on a full moon night that their destinies crossed for the first time. Isabella, wearing a splendid purple dress and her black hair intertwined with small golden accessories, at the center of an elegant party. Lord Alaric, on the other hand, was performing in a modest inn with his guitar, entertaining the village with his love songs.

Isabella's gaze fell on him, on that man with a free spirit who defied the rules of his time. The melody Lord Alaric was playing seemed to tell the story of his deepest desires. It was then that, with a charming smile, she approached him.

Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still. Lord Alaric, unable to believe his luck, stopped playing and looked at her with admiration. It was as if the whole world had melted around them.

The following days were a succession of endless conversations along the shimmering river. Alaric's words of love were like whispers that went unheard, despite their promise of eternal love for each other. Lord Alaric remained completely unaware of her hidden ambitions.

While their first royal meeting had been a scene of great pomp and splendor, with all the nobility of Roccaflora gathered to celebrate the announcement of their marriage. The castle's hall was decorated with precious fabrics, embroidered with golden threads, and hundreds of scented candles lit up the room, creating a magical atmosphere.

Lord Alaric had chosen an elegant suit adorned with golden embroideries that gave him a princely air. Isabella, on the other hand, wore a white silk dress, the fabric gently sliding along her body, her "fake" smile appearing as bright as the sun, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes like distant stars.

When the dances began, Alaric did not miss the opportunity to dance with her. He looked into her eyes as they danced in the center of the hall, with the eyes of the guests fixed on them.

«Isabella, when I see you, my world fills with light.» Lord Alaric told her.

Isabella smiled gracefully, but her words were as sharp as blades: «Lord Alaric, do not confuse formalities with love. This marriage is an opportunity for both our families, not genuine love» she whispered so as not to be heard by others and to break the idea that had now been formed about them.

Young Lord Alaric knew that Isabella was right, but he could not prevent his heart from hoping for eternal love.

The ceremony was followed by a sumptuous banquet, with tables laden with delicacies and fine wines. Lord Alaric and Isabella shared the head table, but there was an invisible distance between them. Their conversation was pure formality, and every word spoken seemed to weigh like a boulder. Even though the conversation between Lord Alaric and Isabella was formal, they managed to exchange some light banter. Lord Alaric tried to make Isabella smile, even though he knew it was all in vain.

After the banquet, while the stars dotted the night sky, Lord Alaric and Isabella found themselves in the castle's garden. It was a place of extraordinary beauty, with flowers and fountains that sent silvery jets of water into the air.

Lord Alaric tried to escape the formalities and show Isabella his more authentic side.

«Isabella, perhaps one day your heart will change its mind.» Lord Alaric pleaded once more.

Isabella looked at him with cold eyes: «Do not delude yourself, Lord Alaric. It will never be so. We must accept reality.»

Lord Alaric, aware of the compromises that aristocracy required, decided to live each day with optimism. Even though he knew their marriage was a political arrangement, he would try to build a happy life with Isabella.

Despite this, Lord Alaric, increasingly hurt and betrayed by fate, had vowed never to believe in love again. He had promised himself that he would protect his daughter Elina from the same suffering he had endured. He had spent the following years freezing his own heart, becoming a man of rigid traditions and principles, convinced that only through political alliances and financial advantages could stability be ensured.

Whenever he looked at his daughter, he saw reflections of Isabella in her eyes: the love he had lost haunted him every day, but the fear of seeing the same story repeat with Elina drove him to oppose with all his might the union between his daughter and Adrian, who, moreover, was just a lowly commoner.

As he closed the family history book, Lord Alaric knew that the past could not be changed. He was trapped in a cycle of pain and resentment that seemed to have no end.

The shadows of the past enveloped him once again, and in the darkness of his study, the old lord remained alone with the ghosts of his lost love.