Fearless Francesca

Chapter Fifteen

The months followed and Sarah herself had given birth to a healthy son who she cherished and loved, christening him Antonio.

“You should be careful my lady!” Sarah said as she rocked her son in her arms who was fast asleep. It had turned into routine for Francesca to visit Sarah in her humble abode even though she teetered around with her huge protruding stomach.

“Stop fussing, I am fine. How are Antonio and your husband?” She said with a smile.

“Antonio has been sleeping well, still screaming in the middle of the night to eat but it’s nothing unexpected from a new born babe. My husband, well he has been working harder than ever to provide for this new mouth. He’s always trying to play with Antonio no matter how exhausted he has been.” Sarah said with a sigh, happiness oozed from her being.

“That is wonderful, I can’t be happier for you Sarah,” Francesca said as she sat on the chair watching the child snooze.

“Has Giovanni written? Have you gotten news of anything?” Sarah said worried, her lips upturned in a frown.

“It’s been almost a year and a half and I haven’t heard from him. He’s missed the celebrations and all but I think it’s alright. I hope he’s enjoying France.” Francesca said without much enthusiasm.

“Don’t be so down trodden! I apologize for bringing up matters like that,” Sarah said with regret.

“Don’t worry, all will work out,” Francesca reassured.

More time had passed and now Francesca was eighteen. Two years ago she had been a naïve child who had only thought of herself as cattle being sold. But she had grown and matured maneuvering her way in this new life. With it’s ups and downs she learned from each moment.

On a cold winter night, she found unbearable pain searing from her thighs. Before long she went through labor, a pain that had been so excruciatingly painful that she could have never imagined. One hour became two, so and so forth. Within the seventh hour in the morning, a cry had finally been heard. Francesca was exhausted.

“Your daughter,” Rita had said, wrapping the little babe into blankets. She cried and cried, powerful lungs and a healthy body were clear.

Francesca peered down at her miracle and let the tears drip down her face. Her daughter stopped crying as if to question why her mother was crying. Her eyes were big brown replicates of her father. Even her hair was the same shade but its texture curled just like Francesca’s.

“I will name you Nicoletta, you will be an amazing girl, with no doubt,” Francesca whispered as she planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

Another year had passed but Francesca was not bothered, she had company now. She treasured her child and watched her grow. Hoping and hoping that Giovanni would return soon.

The day was rainy and Francesca watched as Nicoletta had taken her first steps. Though she managed on her own feet, she always pulled at the hem of her mother’s skirt to be held up. She always glanced out the window, as if to know that her father was out there somewhere.

A shriek was let out from the main hall and Francesca hurried out with her daughter in her arms. She watched as Rita embrace a man who was soaked in water. Stephen was close by and had a small smile on his usual straight face.

Francesca watched the figure turn and couldn’t grasp if it was reality or not. Giovanni had returned but looked completely different. His hair had grown long, his eyes were circled darkly and he even had managed to grow a bit of a beard. Despite the way he had dressed himself, he was still handsome in Francesca’s eyes. She watched as his eyes skit toward Nicoletta, his daughter.

Time seemed to fly by but there he was, besides her again.

“I told you I would come back,” A charming smile formed the corners of his lips.

“And I’ve been waiting,” Francesca said with a grin.

“Who is the little princess?” Giovanni said as he stared intently into her brown eyes – his brown eyes.

“Her name is Nicoletta, our daughter.” Francesca was proud as ever.

“She’s beautiful and looks just like you,” He kissed the baby on the forehead. Nicoletta surprisingly didn’t cry as she usually did when others tried to play with her or even touch her. It was as if she knew that the man before her was her papa.

“I think she’s every instance like you.” Francesca said playfully.

“She’s perfect.” Giovanni murmured, almost love struck at the instance of his child.

“That she is. Everyday she grows to be lovelier. I don’t know if I could do this any longer on my own. Are you staying this time?”

“I promised I would.”

And with that said, Giovanni snuck a quick kiss on the lips to Francesca who blushed furiously as she had when she realized her own feelings. This was bliss, every other emotion was washed away and the pair radiated joy.

A/N: I didn't think length mattered since I got to end this story with the right amount of ... perfection? I hope?  I don't know haha. Anyways I remember starting this story with a clear cut image when I was reading about the Renaissance for history class. I don't even know how I got my ideas half of the time but all the imagination in my head resulted in this. So yep! Both Giovanni and Francesca were characters that I've never really tried writing before, and I don't know if they were successful but no matter what, I do love both of them for their flaws and uniqueness. I hope you guys enjoyed this last installment (which is bascally the epilogue) Thank you for spending your time reading and being so patient by my slow updates! Vote, comment, anything else that you would like to do, go for it :)  Wow I can finally edit this to complete. xD