Winds of Fate [Books IV - VI]

Chapter 200.1: Árbol de la Vida

The doors shut behind her.

Eleanore closes her eyes and leans against the hard panels, feeling the tides shift underneath her feet once more. Suddenly, even her grand cabin is suffocating and small. She wipes the sweat on her forehead, her skin. Her hands are clammy. As a pirate, she swears no allegiance to any king or nation. As a brown-skinned foreigner in very white Boston, she never truly became an Englishwoman despite her father and his name that gave her a semblance of protection. No matter where she goes, she has not been so connected to a land before.

But Havana is different.

Havana welcomed her from the sea. Havana is where she has always been meant to return. Abuela Alcaunex survived just so that somewhere, someday, a daughter from their family could go back and set things right on the land so ravaged by petty wars and greed of others. Eleanore clutches her hair and sinks down the floorboards. What will I do? For now, even worse, she had not married a humble knight from Sevilla.

Her life is bound to Sevilla's last prince himself.

It is not a question of worth anymore. By all means, if anyone looks at her life, she is the worst person for the job. How could she do this, when it is Pilar who grew up in Havana, suffered the oppression of Spain, and is the one who knows best the life of a Habanera in this suffering land? How could she even move, when Dela Vega had the legal right to send Anton to his death for being a pirate for decades?

How could she even dare, when it is Anton and his city, their conquistadors, who brought this upon them all in the first place?

The irony and tragedy of it all torments her. And I am his wife. A member of his house. She is to protect him too, from anything and anyone in the world. She is to honor Sevilla, as her Condesa, exiled as they may be away from that old city. But I am a daughter of Habana... and I am a woman of the sea.

Oh, I don't know. Eleanore hides her face behind her hands. I don't know at all...

Until she hears a firm, but kind, whisper to her soul.

You already are My child.

She stills.

But there is no more. Eleanore leaps to her feet, heaving. Thoughts that help her understand follow. "Please?" She whispers, wiping her tears, forgetting any formal prayer at all. "I'm..."

I'm not the one... But she immediately winces at that. How could she even complain? This is her life. Everything she had gone through, everything she has been told and faced, everything she has in her, have all been necessary. She is now smack dab in the heat of it. How can she fold? Her shoulders sink. "I don't know, Father..." Eleanore mumbles, eyes closed. "Not anymore. I am afraid of it all... I was not even raised here. I married the son of my people's enemies. He is in danger too. We will be facing two empires at once. And the people? They are not ready at all to fight! What should I even do? Oh, God—"

She drops to her knees.

And her cabin doors creak.

Eleanore sharply turns, heart pounding madly out of fear someone has followed and heard. However, there is no one. Not even Anton or their dear animals. No one...

But a soft, tender breeze seeping between the gaps of the doors. It is stark cold against her skin, yet not hurtful. The winds pleasantly caress her like an embrace. Deep down, she feels the cabin is not the place for it. There is something she must see... and it can be found outside. It is a clarity undeniable, Eleanore dusts herself off and leaves her quarters.

She locks it behind her. Wait. Eleanore pauses. Anton... She turns around. He will worry for her; should she leave a note? But I won't have much time left because supper will arrive soon! Argh! Ignoring her sense, she continues, hoping she would return before her beloved husband even realizes her missing.