Dear Diary, have you ever had something happen and wished that you had someone standing next to you to tell you that it actually happened? Something so bizarre that it's unbelievable even though you just experienced it yourself? Of course, if I had someone else next to me it wouldn't have happened, but I'm still utterly confounded and wish someone could explain it to me. I know you weren't there, and even if you were you can't speak, Diary, but I'll still tell you about it and maybe writing it out will help me understand what just happened.
As you know, Carmine and I have become friendly acquaintances recently. There was a travelling art show in town today. My friends weren't available, but I wanted to see it so I went by myself. Only I bumped into Carmine, who was also by himself, so we ended up wandering the gallery together.
The artist had traveled all throughout the kingdom and painted landscapes. Several of the names were familiar from reading the book. Carmine had been to a few of them, and recounted his experiences where he had.
There was a large lake that was a common summering spot among the nobles. The water caused cooler temperatures and people would picnic on its bank and spend some time rowing boats through the lake for a fun afternoon activity. Carmine’s family had spent many summer’s there. There were children from a few families, Lucia included, that he would meet while there and they would play along the bank or swim together.
Carmine reminisced about how he had once tricked Lucia into believing that there were mermaids in the lake. (I could have been convinced myself, Diary. Do mermaids exist here?) Near the end of his story his voice trailed off and it looked like he was embarrassed from his story. I couldn’t tell, however, why he found it embarrassing.
One of the landscapes was of a meadow littered with wildflowers, with a blue sky over it containing a speckling of white, fluffy clouds. It seemed like it could be anywhere to me, but to my surprise Carmine identified it right away. Apparently it was a meadow close to the academy. I looked at him in disbelief when he said that he knew it, but the plaque with its title confirmed that he was right.
He said that he had been there once. His family had had business at the academy and he had been forced to accompany them, but as soon as he could he had left to wander outside and found the meadow. Lucia had also been there that day, and she had shown him how to make flower crowns, and been upset when his turned out even better than hers. Upon remembering how upset she’d been he started to chuckle, then glanced at me and turned it into a short cough. I imagined he was missing her, since I still hadn’t seen her around recently, but tried to cover it up because he didn’t want to admit it.
We walked past several other regions. Mostly very beautiful ones. There were some sunrises and sunsets among them that were particularly spectacular. Then we came to one that stood out as being particularly unpleasant. The painting itself was well done, but that only contributed to how barren and harsh the landscape felt.
“Moriosa desert,” I whispered when I saw it. I recognized it from the book description. It was where Carmine would go to war, and eventually his victory there would contribute in large part to him inheriting the duke title.
Now it was Carmine’s turn to be surprised that I’d recognized the landscape. He checked the plaque and asked how I’d known. I told him that I’d read about it in my studies and it had been memorable. (Which was partially true, Diary. I had read about it in my studies, although it wouldn’t have stuck with me the same as it had from The Lady’s Heart Can’t Run Away.)
There had been more people around the scenic landscapes, especially the ones that were frequented by the nobles. This one, however, seemed to hold my gaze. I lingered longer than I did at the others. Looking at it, I couldn’t help but feel sad thinking about how Carmine would have to spend months, or maybe years, I couldn’t remember exactly, not just fighting there but also struggling to stay alive amidst the harsh terrain.
When we turned away from it and started walking toward the next one, Carmine commented that it had the magic tower as part of the landscape. I glanced at it, but my attention was caught by a figure observing it with long, white hair and loose fitting pants and blouse. I asked if we wanted to skip that one, and Carmine was quick to catch my tone and the direction of my eyes and agree.
We were approaching the last of the paintings. There was one painted from a hill looking into the capitol. The very last one was of the palace gardens. It showed the path leading to the entrance of the hedge maze, with the edge of the rose garden to the left of it.
Carmine started to comment that he had been lost in that hedge maze before. The memory brought a smile to his lips. Then he glanced at me and his smile stiffened before softening again as he stated that he had also run into me close to there as well.
The shift seemed odd. I thought he had probably been reminded of something that had happened with Lucia again. I wondered if he was missing Lucia. It seemed to me like maybe he’d been somewhat unconsciously sharing stories about their childhood because he missed her, but maybe he didn’t want to talk about her that much because it reminded him that he missed her. It could also be that he was afraid I’d view it as rude, although I didn’t actually mind the stories.
When reading The Lady’s Heart Can’t Run Away, I’d only viewed them as dramatic. Hearing him recount childhood memories, however, breathed more life into them, and made me understand how people could enjoy reading about their love. They weren’t just dramatic characters with overly dramatic lives. They also had days where they went about normal life, playing on a lakeshore, in a meadow or a garden, and just wandering around an art exhibit. I could appreciate that maybe their story, too, was one of searching for peace; they just had to go through a lot more hardship to find it together.
It was amidst these thoughts, thinking that I’d finally understood the main characters, that I found myself in the courtyard at the center of the building that housed the art exhibit. It was small, and gave a secluded area to take a rest amidst viewing the art. Carmine and myself were the only ones there. We’d gone to sit and discuss the art a little more (or so I’d thought) before returning home.
That's when, Diary, the most surprising words came out of Carmine's mouth. Just when I'd been thinking I could understand Carmine and Lucia and their relationship, Carmine brought my understanding crashing down. Carmine looked into my eyes and asked, "Do you want to get married?"
"What?" was all I could manage to reply, as I tried to understand his absurd words.
"I heard it's fashionable," he rambled, trying to convince me, "contract marriages, fashionable among noble ladies. I'm the son of a duke, and if we were married I think your position would provide a good argument for me to become the next duke, and then we could both live comfortably."
A billion questions flashed through my mind. Why was he asking me this? Where had he gotten the idea it was fashionable? What...? So many questions.
"No," I told him. Before any questions I thought I should be firm. "No, I don't want to get married. Why would I want to? I'm the daughter of an earl, and the duke hasn't named you as his heir. I can understand how I'd benefit you in a contract marriage, but you have nothing to offer, not as it stands now. I'm not the person you should be asking."
Lucia and Carmine had been engaged fairly early in The Lady's Heart Can't Run Away. A contract marriage did sound familiar; they probably did have one. Still, he should be asking Lucia this. Or maybe she had been the one to ask him, and he should be prepared to accept her offer. He shouldn't be asking me. And Lucia needed him as well. I was sure it was a mutually beneficial marriage. There was no reason that Carmine should be asking me.
Carmine looked surprised. He had appeared nervous to ask, but it didn't seem like he'd thought I'd actually reject him. For a moment he looked a little silly, like now that he'd been turned down he didn't know what to do with himself in front of me.
"I see," he told me. "You have no use for someone who hasn't earned his place as duke."
His words surprised me. That wasn't really the point here. I tried to tell him that, that we weren't a good match and there was someone better for him. I suppose it might have come off as hollow words of comfort that I was offering out of guilt, rather than the sincere advice I meant it to be.
His face was stoic now, his expression guarded. He nodded once, apologized for overstepping, and left. I stuttered for a moment, but even if I'd found something to reply it didn't matter; he was gone before I could have said anything.
I was left alone in the courtyard. It was what I had wanted from the start, but since we had become friends against my better judgement I felt a little sad about him leaving like that. I had supposed that we'd just drift apart one day, still friends, just friends who never talk again and only occasionally wonder how their friend is doing and their life ended up. Not that he'd ask me to marry him! Of course I'd reject him, I wasn’t feeling sad about that, but now whenever we did see each other again it was going to be awkward. We might be back to not even being friends.
To give Carmine plenty of time to leave, I waited a few minutes in the courtyard before I departed. I tried to admire the flowers and shrubbery, but I couldn’t focus on them, and it was too cold for most flowers now anyway. There wasn't any sign of him as I exited the building and found my carriage.
So that's what happened, Diary. At least, I think it did. It seems so ridiculous that it should be a dream instead, and I wish someone had been there to confirm it really occurred. Still, I know it really did. I just don't know what it means. Where's Lucia? And why are they not engaged? And why would Carmine ever ask me to marry him when Lucia is clearly a better option? Just when I’d thought I was starting to understand them, Carmine proves that novel leads just follow a different set of logic.
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