The Venetian

by Lina Ellina

  “Further up, in Platres, there’s a nice green trek that leads to Kallidonia waterfalls – much bigger and more impressive than this - but it will be dark in a while, so I thought this should do. Besides, this is my favorite. It kind of takes me back through time.”

  For a while, they just marveled at the natural beauty of the scenery, untouched by human hand, in silence. “We should be getting back. The sun is setting already,” Marina remarked.

  Lorenzo nodded his consent, and she turned on her feet but slipped on a wet rounded stone and would have landed on all fours if it hadn’t been for his quick reflex and strong arms. She locked eyes with him, taken aback by how comfortable it felt in the safety of his arms.

  “Thanks,” she whispered with an embarrassed smile.

  “You’re okay?” he asked, gently holding her still.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” she nodded.

  Lorenzo gave her a warm smile and casually took her hand in his, and they started making their way back to the car with their hands laced.

  73 - 1468

  Elena sighed and lifted Ioanna out of the water. She would have loved to swim again – with him preferably. A couple of fishermen’s boats were returning to the safety of the wharf, as she unfolded the blanket on the beach opposite the water castle that the Lusignans had to rebuild after its destruction by an earthquake and a tsunami in 1222 that brought the entire town to its knees.

  She sat down with Ioanna and gave her the shells they had collected earlier on their stroll to play with, making sure she wouldn’t put them in her mouth. Elena took her pointed knife and started carving the soft piece of wood she found lying on the beach while singing to Ioanna who tried to follow her lead by making incomprehensible sounds.

  When Ioanna became disinterested in their duet, Elena let her gaze wander towards the horizon, brooding over how history repeats itself and wondered if the women in her family had been cursed to find a love so heated yet so ephemeral. Twice she had been blessed with a child. Twice she had been left alone with the upbringing of her children. So be it if that was His will. Her only consolation was in prayer. She was certain that the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, had planned a wonderful life for her. She prayed for strength and for enlightenment, for she was, at this stage, unable yet to comprehend His plan for her, or His majestic embroidery design, as Father Efrem had put it. She prayed that God would break this vicious circle and spare her baby the pain.

  Ioanna stretched her little arms, and Elena lifted her and rocked her to sleep. The symphony of the murmuring leaves and the burbling waves, licking the shore in front of her bare feet, echoed the whisper of her voice as she said his name time and time again. If only the wind could carry her whisper on its wings to him...

  74 - 2011

  “No, a snack is not what I had in mind for tonight. Tonight calls for celebration,” Lorenzo said with a touch of mystery, as they were getting into the hotel.

  “Why? What’s tonight?” Marina smiled, wondering what he might have thought of this time.

  “My birthday,” Lorenzo said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

  “It’s your birthday today?” Marina asked for confirmation.

  He nodded – his fingers still crossed behind his back.

  “Happy birthday!” She gave him a hug and kissed him on both cheeks.

  Lorenzo held her in an unfathomable gaze. “Thank you... You know the drill.” He pressed the key in her hand.

  Marina took it without ado this time and walked to the elevator. When she got into the room, an elegant long white open back dress was laid out on the bed and a pair of matching white shoes on the thick carpet was waiting for her. He had even guessed her size right. Her first reaction was to ignore the dress all together, but then her female vanity dictated that she should at least try it on.

  Her lips parted with excitement as she looked at herself in the mirror. Its full length made her look taller and slender. It was a ladylike yet sexy dress, and she instantly fell in love with it.

  At the bar, Lorenzo looked up absent-mindedly at her direction, cast his gaze to his drink as if not recognizing her at once, and then swiftly glanced up again to meet her gaze. He gasped. Heads turned around as she walked toward him in her recently-developed femme fatale catwalk.

  Instinctively, he straightened the collar of his shirt. He rose to his feet, stretched both arms, and said in admiration, “Che bella! You look like a Greek goddess. Like Aphrodite.”

  “Thank you. You shouldn’t have,” she said all lit up like a Christmas tree.

  He let his gaze glide slowly on her from her hair worn up, that gave her a touch of maturity, to her twinkling eyes and inviting smile to her elongated neck and deep décolleté. She’s not wearing a bra, he thought with a grin, noticing her small, young, firm, rounded breasts. The dress clinched on her slim waist and fell charmingly on her hips and well-shaped legs.

  He tilted his head to the side, flared his nostrils, and parted his lips. “My pleasure. I couldn’t have you feel underdressed each time we dine together, especially tonight… Turn around. Let me see you.”

  Marina did, and his gaze was magnetized by the olive skin of her back, the rhythmical movement of her hips and her catwalk. He didn’t think much when he was buying her the dress that morning, but he now realized that this was the first time he was allowed a glimpse at her bare skin other than on her face and hands. Feeling his heart pumping faster, he smirked at himself. It was revitalizing to know that he could still feel that way.

  “Wow! I’m speechless.” He brought his right palm to his heart.

  Beaming, Marina took a seat at the bar, placed one leg over the other and a hand on her thigh.

  “I hate to leave you alone at the bar, but I need to go and change.” He found himself unwilling to tear his gaze away.

  “Sure.” Marina found the touch of nervousness in his manner sweet and amusing.

  Lorenzo waved to the bartender to come closer. “Paul, take care of her for me, will you?” Paul smiled back meaningfully yet tactfully.

  “Take care of me?” Marina asked in a low voice.

  Casually, Lorenzo let his palm gently brush against the soft skin of her bare back, and whispered in her ear, “There’s a reason for everything. I’ll explain later.” He held her in an intense gaze and gave her an assured half smile. He then straightened his body and picked up the card key she had left for him on the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

  For the first time in a long time, Marina felt that everything was the way it should be, and her grin reached her ears. She kept him in her line of vision for as long as she could and then turned to Paul. “Hi, Paul. Could I have…?”

  “A dry martini?” Paul asked while placing the drink in front of her.

  Marina flashed a smile at him. “Thank you, Paul. You’re a mind reader.”

  “It comes with the profession.” He smiled back and turned to serve the gorgeous, tall blonde who had just walked in through the sliding door and asked if the seat next to Marina was taken.

  75 - 1468

  Marin tore his gaze away from the lush décor of Conte Visconti’s ball-room and caught a glimpse of the secret glances and smiles between the conte and Anna, right before their host gathered his courage and approached them to ask Marin for permission to dance a bassadanza[1] by Antonio Cornazano with his fiancé. Courteously, Marin nodded his consensus and took note of the conte’s glowing face.

  Despite being short and plump, the conte was a smooth dancer. So smooth that no one noticed his swaying away onto the balcony with Anna – no one but Marin. For a moment, he wondered whether he should make a scene but decided against it. Not only had he no desire to insult a powerful man, such as his host, but it suddenly struck him that the conte’s veiled amorous advances to Anna were an ace up in his sleeve that he shouldn’t rush to burn.

  With his head filled with memories of his teaching Elena how to dance the piva[2] and the salterello[3] she enjoyed so much and still incensed about he
r vanishing into thin air, Marin took his goblet of wine and stepped outside. He sat on a bench in the flower-filled grounds that surrounded the conte’s mansion, lifted his gaze to the starry sky, and sighed. The engagement was just a few days away, and he had this itch to get onto a galley and go back to Venice. He realized now he never should have agreed to it. Especially now that Anna’s true colors were revealed to him, he felt trapped and missed Elena and Ioanna more with each passing day.

  Only his word as a gentleman and the fear of displeasing Andrea Cornaro held him from breaking the engagement. He thought about discussing this with his uncle, but he was so burdened with ensuring that the king’s engagement to Caterina would prevail despite all his adversaries and their intrigues that he didn’t want to disturb him.

  Even Nikeforos had discreetly distanced himself ever since Anna came for a visit to the Cornaro mansion. When Marin had once suggested they should celebrate both engagements on the same day, Nikeforos’s face was first lit up and then detached. Although he never voiced his thoughts, Marin was certain Nikeforos found dumping Elena unethical. Little did he know that she had left him – technically.

  Since her disappearance, Marin tried to will Elena out of his conscious mind, but he would now and again yield to the temptation and take the sketches of her and Ioanna out of their hiding place and tenderly let his fingertips slide on their hair and on their cheeks. He knew he had no claim on her. Still, it bothered him that she had written him off just like that.

  Yet his own deeds did not exactly honor him either, he thought disapprovingly, and gulped down his wine. He needed to understand why she had left him. He had been half expecting her to beg him to stay. That might have tipped off the balance. But, of course, he couldn’t blame her for his actions or inactions.

  The young Venetian fixed his stare on the constellation of Ursa Major, the familiar pointer to the north that reminded him of his nights on board. If only he could talk to his parents. The captain would probably tell him to use his brain and study the ramifications of each alternative in depth before making a decision. Marin snorted contemplating what his mother’s advice would be, probably “Follow your heart!” The problem was his brain dictated one thing and his heart another.

  [1] A slow, stately, elegant dance, which accentuates partner interaction and can sometimes be considered processional.

  [2] A fast, fifteenth century Italian dance

  [3] A fast, fifteenth century Italian dance

  76 - 2011

  “Barbara?”

  Marina turned at the sound of Lorenzo’s voice and saw his astonished stare fixed on the gorgeous blonde sitting next to her at the bar.

  “Lorenzo, what a coincidence! Isn’t this a small world? What are you doing here?” Barbara arched her brows and widened her eyes playfully.

  I bet coincidence goes by the name of Sofia, Lorenzo thought and said, “Same as you I guess. Taking a few days off.”

  Marina looked at clean-shaven, elegant and poised Lorenzo in his classic black Armani suit with subtle stripes, a three-button jacket, and a white shirt. She then looked at the ravishing tall blonde with the very feminine Cavalli black strapless fitted mini dress and out the window went her newly-found female self-assuredness. She is his surprise birthday gift, she thought with a tart taste in her mouth.

  Marina caught Paul’s interested yet discreet stare with the corner of her eye and knew that in the interest of self-preservation, it was time to make an exit. Besides, Lorenzo hadn’t addressed a single word to her yet. She inferred that the two had a history together. Her professional duty dictated that she save the day.

  She cleared her throat attracting their attention. “Mr. Zanetti, I think here’s where I wish you goodnight. Shall I pick you up at ten tomorrow?” Marina asked with the friendliest and most professional smile in her arsenal, figuring that he would be having breakfast with the blonde; therefore, it was not necessary to show up earlier for breakfast.

  Lorenzo looked at her and his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but Barbara was faster.

  “You have a private guide! Now, that’s a bonus to add to your holidays,” Barbara said teasingly, looking at Marina from head to toes, but coming from her lips, it sounded almost like an insult.

  Lorenzo made the introductions in English, and Marina shook hands with her. “Well, you have to excuse me now. Goodnight,” Marina said and forced a smile on her face.

  “Let me walk you to your car,” Lorenzo offered, but Marina saw Barbara’s cheeks stiffen.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do. I can see myself out. I’ll see you in the morning. It was a pleasure, Ms. Bruni.”

  Marina walked away keeping a stiff upper lip.

  77 - 1468

  Marin and Anna were riding side by side northward of the Cornaro estate. She had asked him to go for a ride in the woods for their Sunday afternoon ride. He didn’t know why subconsciously he brought Anna to Elena’s land.

  “Is this still part of the Cornaro estates?” Anna asked, looking around and trying to make conversation.

  She couldn’t help noticing that she was not the center of his attention. Nor was he, really, the center of hers. Not after the banquet at Conte Visconti’s estate. When her uncle had suggested that an engagement to the Cornaro boy, as he called Marin, would be most beneficial, surely he hadn’t anticipated the conte’s interest in his niece. She could tell the conte found her upcoming engagement disagreeable, although he didn’t say it in so many words.

  Anna had been looking for a way out without creating a scandal or a vendetta. Her uncle was far too reluctant to make any move out of fear of turning Andrea Cornaro into an enemy. Anna felt like she was walking on a tight rope. As a first step, she would procrastinate, she decided, but she didn’t know what to do next. She was relieved Marin was up to his ears with work and honored the custom of waiting until marriage before he made any amorous advancement.

  “No, but we bought the timber from the widow who owns this place last spring.” Marin looked at the deforested environs and suspected that even more trees were cut than they had marked that day. It was a sad, forsaken place that matched his dysphoria.

  “Let’s take a walk,” Anna suggested, and they dismounted. “Is this the widow’s house?” Anna’s gregarious nature found the silence between them horrendous.

  Marin nodded and looked at their abandoned love nest with the wild mountain roses at the entrance in need of trimming.

  “That must be some merry widow.”

  “What?” Anna’s sarcastic comment startled him.

  “Look, she’s carrying someone’s bastard.”

  Marin followed her gaze. His eyes came to rest on Elena who was having a hard time picking plums with her round belly, and his heart palpitated in his chest. Hippocrates barked and Elena turned and faced them. At the sight of Marin with his fiancé to be, her stomach churned, but she steeled herself against her nausea.

  “Hippocrates, sit!” she cried out when the dog wanted to run to Marin.

  Confused, Hippocrates stood still, looked at Elena, and then at Marin. “Sit!” Elena ordered again with a decisive voice, and the dog finally obeyed. Marin suppressed the urge to cuddle the half-breed.

  Elena greeted them, and they walked up to her. When they were but a couple of paces away, Elena said, “Signora, mind your steps,” and added coldly, “There are snakes around.”

  Anna let out a cry and hid her face on Marin’s shoulder, failing to see the intense gaze between the two lovers. If Elena was alluding to the first day they met or implying that his behavior had been like a snakebite to her, Marin wasn’t sure, and with Anna by his side his tongue was tied.

  “How can you live here?” Appalled, Anna glanced around with insecurity.

  “I don’t any more, signora. You must be signor Zanetti’s fiancé. Welcome to Cyprus,” Elena said without bowing.

  “Yes, thank you,” Anna said and smiled for the first time since they had dismoun
ted.

  Elena observed the beautiful, tall, slender, rich Venetian lady who wouldn’t let go of Marin’s arm and felt short, fat, ugly, and insignificant.

  “So where do you live now?” Marin asked with feverish eyes. He swiftly cast his gaze down on her belly and then back at her eyes, wearing an inquisitive look, but Elena’s face was a courtesy mask.

  “I have moved away, signore. That is why I’m afraid I’m unable to offer you anything but plums,” she said evasively and offered them some fruit from her basket. Marin kept searching for her eyes, but Elena carefully focused her gaze on Anna who by now had forgotten her fear of snakes.

  On their way back, Marin fell silent. He knew now beyond doubt he had to put an end to this charade of an engagement he had allowed himself to be fooled into. He might even know how...

  78 - 2011

  Marina walked to her car in brisk strides, eager to have some privacy for her racing thoughts. Her spirits were sinking fast, as she descended the hill and turned left toward Lemesos. She strictly forbade herself to speculate who the blonde was. It was simply none of her business. She told herself she was lucky she got off work earlier. She finally had the entire evening to herself. She could do whatever she wanted, starting with a bite to eat and a revision of her presentation. Then she might even call Katerina and arrange to go out.

  Some forty minutes later, Marina closed the apartment door behind her and tossed her keys and her bag on the side table by the entrance. She ran her fingers through her hair and took a look around the familiar space that suddenly seemed suffocatingly small. She opened the fridge door, had a quick look at its disappointingly minimal and uninviting content and decided to skip dinner. She suppressed the urge to turn on her heels and disappear into the anonymity of the crowded commercial streets downtown. Instead, she turned on her laptop determined to focus on her thesis.