Rose Among Thorns

VIII

EDITED

"To you I shall say, as I have often said before, do not be in a hurry, the right man will come at last."

—Jane Austen

Playlist: Isak Danielson—If you forget that you love me

The sheer sunflower printed curtain hanging from her balcony door rustled in the breeze like ocean waves as Seraphina peeled the music sheet, tucking her unruly hair behind her ears, she picked up her violin by its neck and brought the butt of the instrument on her neck. Then resting the lower back of the violin on her collar bone, she held it in place with her jaw.

Holding it steady, she arched four fingers over the fingerboard and picked up the bow. Tilting the bow hair towards the bridge, her fingers dribbled along the fingerboard as she pulled the strings, applying adequate pressure and with extreme expertise as she had been taught; she closed her eyes and smiled, letting the melody take her far away.

Reminiscing back to the first time her hands touched the violin, her smile deepened and the music electrified and soothe her soul.

She was seven, when her father Salvestro Giordano, had brought her to the Marnomac Exhibition and Trade Centre, where on the way; her gaze fixated on a vagabond man, playing a violin, and saw people throwing coins on the handkerchief placed in front of him. Her heart soared at the tune and the intensity of the passion behind. Then requesting her father to give her money, she ran towards the man, grinning when she placed the hundred Euro, and saw the man's eyes water with delight while he thanked her. Then rushing back hold her father's hand, she asked him to bring them to the G. Zecchini, an instrumental store, knowing well what she wanted to learn next—the violin. A tutor was consequently employed to come instruct her. Since then, besides baking, and learning Swedish and German, the quiet time with the instrument had contributed immensely to reducing stress and frustrations.

She had performed on small stages, from schools to inter-state competitions but had yet to play on a big stage and given the opportunity, she was definitely taking and looking forward to it.

It was only after the serene session as she hung the violin on its stand that she let her mind start to process and dwell on the whole fiasco that went through the past few days.

Seraphina would not pretend or persuade herself to believe Valente was incapable of such a brutal act because, he was. Being around vicious and unforgiving men all her life, had made her more or less jaded her towards almost all degrees of violence. When her father was assassinated, she was ten—too young, too naïve to really understand the workings of the world. He was an intentional target, Sera was told when she was twelve. Devastation was mild a word to use for what she felt at that moment. Everything changed, she changed. It was cruel, the world she lived in—one where only those without a weakness, survived. Nobody cared whether you were a child, grieving, suffering a loss or simply breathing. So you were left with no other options but to fortify your heart and the walls surrounding it.

The men were heartless, filthy and conniving; women, vicious, manipulative and downright fatal. Some might pretend to care because of fear and respect, but it wasn't long before the very same persons would scavenge on the remains of your dignity, honour and eventually, life,  if they come through in hounding a few anaemic bones in your blood. There was no place for the weak, and she refused to be considered one just because she was a woman.

Her grandfather, Mr Antonio Giordano had then, decided she would be taught to protect herself—particularly to shoot without hesitation and some basic self-defence. She understood the reasoning perfectly, in case the perpetrators who killed her father or anyone really, decided to come after her. Of course, there were men hired for the purpose of providing her security but she had to bear in mind that their family had just as many enemies because of their affiliation to the Sicilian crime syndicate. This was her life, she was raised into it, so she might as well try to live as long as she could without getting killed by one man or the other.