Chapter 33

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The yellow roses are placed in a vase by the table facing a window. As I hold one in front of me while laying on the bed, I couldn't help but think about this century.

I remember reading books about the medieval period, about how life is simpler and appears happier than in the 20th century. Even my father thinks that a simpler life is a lot better than living in grandiosity.

If anyone would ask me about the renaissance years ago, I would have eagerly answered that it's one of the most perfect times to be alive. It might have been my naivety getting the best of me for I have fully disregarded human nature and our inclination to transgress.

In all of the books and documents I have read about Giuliano, he was always depicted as the perfect man, hence the title golden boy.

Living at the same time as he makes me realize that he's simply a well-mannered young man with a tendency to do either good or bad deeds just like any other human being. I was wrong to believe that he is truly as perfect as he was portrayed.

As Carnivale nears, preparation for the festival soon started. Semiramide and I started making our mask a few days ago and we are no closer to finishing it as we are having too much fun to be effective. Carnivale is probably the biggest festivity in all of Italy.

Different city-states have their different uniqueness but every single one of them is just remarkable. It makes me wonder if my mother celebrated the Carnivale when she was pregnant with me.

Sitting by the table as I sip my wine, I began to ponder how the streets would light up during Carnivale. In a few days, I'll be seeing it with my own eyes and I started to feel thrilled. Tre Rane is filled with people conversing about the same things as I am thinking about and I couldn't help but smile about it.

"What a lovely smile." Da Vinci said as he sits across from me.

"I couldn't help it. Seeing almost everyone thrilled for the event makes me happy." I said then sips on my wine glass then sets it down on the table as I look at the room.

"Is that the only reason why you're happy?"

Da Vinci is a humorous person. I usually go to him for comical relief, even so, he's the only person who sees through me. At least when it comes to Botticelli. He's very heedful of the two of us. Bashful, I bit my lower lip as I look at the wine glass. "He's been a great help," I said, trying to suppress my smile.

"Antonia, you're my friend. You can always speak freely with me." He said, making me feel a little less hesitant.

"I'll admit, I have always liked him probably beyond friendship," I whisper, careful not to let anyone overhear me. Da Vinci then smirks. "However, I have always been doubtful about how he feels," I said sincerely, making his smirk disappears.

"What makes you say that?"

Remembering what I had discovered last year made my chest feel heavy. "I'm aware of his feelings towards Simonetta..." I trailed, as I avoid his eyes. "I'm sure that's the only reason why he showed interest in me before."

"Did he tell you that himself?"

The question, although simple, makes me realize that I never did. He confirmed his feelings but he never managed to tell me because I always seem to have cut him off whenever he wants to.

What a terrible person I have become. Blinded by my overwhelming feelings, it has clouded my judgment. Even then, he still helps me and stays with me. "No."

Da Vinci then leans closer to me and looks directly into my eyes. "Antonia, it cannot be helped that you resemble someone and sometimes, familiarity elicits feelings we have no control over. However, people stay for different reasons."

On that note, Da Vinci smiles, taps my hand ever so gently then leaves towards the kitchen just as Botticelli walks out of it. He smiles and waves at me briefly before attending to the woman inquiring in front of him.

Leonardo has proven that his intellect spans far greater than I have expected. His words made me think of everything. Indeed, I cannot fault people like Botticelli to feel something familiar when they first saw me. It's a reaction he cannot control.

However, when he has chosen to stay with me, it was for a different reason. My only question is, is it still the same reason?

The rose started to wither so Franzia has taken it off of my vase. I find it incredibly masterful the way Franzia does my hair. She places a coif of gold embroidery on my hair and lets my wavy locks flow on my back. Today, I'm wearing one of my mom's dresses. It's a beige giornea with intricate patterns and beige and white gamurra.

I have recently viewed things differently after my conversation with Leonardo. I no longer feel as if I'm not myself whenever I'm wearing her clothes. Now, I only feel as if she's a part of me. After tying the ribbon, I grab my mask and went downstairs.

In this century, festivities are the only entertainment for everybody. Whenever they celebrate, they make sure that they make the most out of it. The music has made everybody feel alive, the masks have given them the animosity to be whoever they wish and the burdens of yesterday are temporarily forgotten.

I have chosen a mask that only covers half of my face while everyone else seems to have decided on the full mask. As Semiramide and I run around, having fun playing tag along the sea of people, I have noticed a man standing by the street, watching everyone else be carefree.

I immediately stopped at the sight of him. I only know one person who would prefer to witness than experience. I walk towards Botticelli and poke his arm playfully. "Shouldn't you be participating in this parade?"

Semiramide came towards us as she pants. "Messer, please come with us!"

Botticelli chuckles. "You go on ahead. I'm quite alright where I am."

When I look at the young woman, her look suggests only one thing. Smirking as we understand each other without uttering a single word, we both grab his arm and pull him along the parade.

The two of us dance as Botticelli tries to keep up. Semiramide began to dance and I followed suit, beginning with a twirl as I keep holding Botticelli's arms.

When night comes, the fireworks started to light up the sky. The square is filled with dancing people and I kept Botticelli's hand in mine, keeping him from standing by the sidelines.

When the music started to change, Semiramide decided to rest with Aunt Simona while Botticelli and I continues to dance together. We were happy and untroubled.

Our laughter echoes through the music as we spin together, hand in hand, and not letting go. Not long after I started feeling dizzy that I toppled over Botticelli, sending us both to the ground with laughter.

"Oh no, pardon me and my clumsiness Messer," I said, still laughing.

"You always seem to stumble upon me, Madonna." He said.

Realizing how close our faces are to each other, our laughter slowly died as we look on deeply into one another's eyes. There is something about Botticelli that draws me closer to him, no matter how much I try to go against it.

With my hand on his chest, I can feel his thumping heartbeat pulsating harder and faster as we continue to hold our gazes. Slowly, we lean closer to one another. Taking off his mask, we then kissed each other. For the longest time, all I ever wanted is this.

It's been so long since I felt his soft supple lips on mine and my heart hammers harder in my chest. The kiss slowly progresses to a passionate one, letting out all the pent-up emotions I have hidden for months. When we pulled away from each other, both of us are gasping for air. We lean on each other's foreheads as we sit by the ground, not a care in the world.

At that moment, it was just the two of us. He caresses my cheeks before pecking my lips one last time before standing up. He held out his hands for me and I take them as I stand.

After the kiss, I'm not sure whether I feel lightheaded because of us spinning or because of the kiss we just shared. Even so, we decided to sit by the sidelines as we held onto each other's hands.

The fireworks continue to light up the sky, the music fills the whole square, and Botticelli's shoulder rests on my head as we witness it all with smiles on our faces.

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