The Secret Muse (#1)

Chapter 2

As difficult as it is to believe, I somehow manage to travel through time without the faintest idea of how. My father did say that the stone can take you through time but he never really mentions any rules that I must follow to do so.

Conveniently enough, I'm glad he taught me how to speak several languages including old Italian. I have always had this plan of traveling back but I never realized that it would be this soon, nor without any preparation. 

Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure exactly how far I have come back.

When Franzia helped me wear a blue gamurra and yellow giornia, I immediately snuck out when she got outside the room carrying a basin. Closing the door behind me, I manage to bring myself onto the first floor and the main wooden door.

When I opened it, it felt like a different Florence street. The last time that I was here, I was only 13 years old. Now at 22, I have never thought of seeing it in its medieval state. People are bustling in the street. The mud and the noise make me feel as if I'm in a different world.

With no conception of where I was, I decided to go to the only place I knew, the cupola. Luckily, the dome is not difficult to find but I never expected it to be more regal and vibrant than it is now. 

I heard a few people gathering in the same direction with tears in their eyes. Curiosity got the better of me so I decided to follow suit.

The further I go in, the thicker the crowd gets. It must be someone famous. 

Pushing through the crowd, I manage to get a glimpse of an open wooden coffin being carried towards a church. I don't know why, but I feel as though I need to follow it.

The procession reached its destination. Based on the beautiful white ornate front of the church I can only guess that it's the Chiesa di Ognissanti or the church of All Saints. I waited for everyone to disperse before I went inside.

Before I could even step into the church, someone took my hand making me face backward. Before me, stands a man with messy long curly brown hair, his light brown eyes wide in disbelief and hope, his lips partially open as if to say something. 

Then his lips turned up into a smile. "Simonetta?"

The way he held onto my hand tells me that whoever this Simonetta is, she must have meant so much to him. It almost pains me to tell him I'm not her. "My name is not Simonetta, Messer," I said, and with it, his smile and hope vanished.

"Madamigella Emma!" Franzia said, calling on me. She runs in my way looking worried. "Please, do not run off from me again. The lady of the house would not be pleased by this."

He suddenly let go of my arm and looked down at the floor. "Forgive me. I have mistaken you for someone else." His voice is low and quiet. Despite a few short words, I can already tell his disappointment. Before I could say anything, however, he left.

Then I turn my attention to Franzia. "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. I just want to see who it is."

Franzia nodded. "Alright, we can go inside. I'm sure Madonna Cattaneo is still there." As we headed in, a lady dressed in black with her chambermaid stood in a corner of the church. Despite her hair wrapped up, I can see her blonde hair. When I stood before her, I curtsy and then looked up at her beautiful face. Something about her brown eyes makes me feel familiar and safe. "My name is Emma Sutton, Madonna Cattaneo. My sincere condolences and gratitude for taking a stranger such as myself into your lovely home." I said, looking at her reddening eyes.

She nodded. "I'm glad to finally see you all better. I wish I could say the same for myself."

Speechless, I smile bitterly at her. When I looked down at the floor the inscription made my heart beat fast in my chest and my eyes widen. The realization hits me like cold water. The reason why a lot of people are mourning in her honor is that she's famous for her beauty; it's Simonetta Vespucci, my mother. Then I remembered something I almost forgot. I knew now how I managed to travel through time, I have wished it on the stone. I have wished to meet my mother. Unfortunately, I'm too late.