@Kristi Harry
His sentence sounded like he was speaking about her, but he did not use her name. Instead, he used the word “gold.” And she laughed slightly, picking up on what he said, and she felt uniquely flattered. Many times, boys had tried to tell her that she was sweet, soft, or delightful, but none of those compliments, although sincere, really pertained to her.
She often found that, among prospectors, she was valued more on the services she provided than her actual character. Azucena believed that was the real reason she could not reveal her real self. No, a woman could not be deflowered before marriage, because it was improper. But it was improper because then, she could not offer that “special” gift to her husband. No, Azucena could not be a great poet, because she had other homely obligations… to her husband, who she could not outdo in any of his crafts. No, she could not disagree wherever she pleased, because that was rude. Because it challenged societal beliefs.
It seemed that no matter what choice she made, her life was not hers to live. Because if she was a diamond, she lay on the king’s crown. But Harrison had not since complimented her services to him, but instead, there seemed to be a dark glow in his visage when he watched her golden hair sit lay atop her head. Her crown. His glory.
Still, she could not help but acknowledge the silliness of their figurative language. Azucena teased him, primping her hair. “I believe the correct word is tesoro.”
He parted with her concerning the dilemma with Archibald, and she nodded. In that time, the man had wanted to take her away, like a bird from its nest. But she couldn’t help but observe his unintentional hypocrisy. Although the Marquis did not despise Harrison like he did Archibald, there was still no presence of approval. She wondered if maybe her father was wrong about this one.
He embraced her when she spoke, and she thought she might feel a bit offput if this happened, but instead, his touch soothed her. In his arms, she felt safe, like there was a loose link of emotion in her mind, and now, it attached itself to him. It was an eerie feeling, reminding her of the only other man that she had allowed to give her that comfort; her father. In each of their grasps, she felt physically like she laid in a bed of flowers, yet in the pit of her stomach, she had uncertainty that could not be erased as much as time had gone by.
Both of them had once hurt her before, but it was only once, and they seemed great men otherwise, so why fret with the worry?
She put aside her feelings, and even when he pulled away, she snuggled her head onto his thigh as they continued speaking, putting her golden locks between his fingers. There, they looked in the same direction, and saw the lake at last. Sitting near a body of water had been a wise choice for them. It was a place where they could reflect on its stillness.
“Thank you,” replied Azucena to his consolidation. And she gave him a broken smile.
“If I had known-”
“But you didn’t.” Azucena interrupted, explaining her thought. “In a way, it was my intention to bore you… If my mother would not allow me to leave you, then I had figured I could find a way for you to leave me. How wrong I had been.” She scoffed lightly, laughing at herself. “Because perhaps if I had gone according to mother’s plan, you would not have to spend money buying gifts, and bidding for my affection.” Azucena smiled slyly, implying their possible marriage.
He thanked her for her gift, and she nodded, approving that he continue speaking.
She had expected many stories he could possibly tell. That he led a cult, ran a ring of prostitution, had a sick two year old child that he fathered with her best friend trapped in his basement because no one could know if its existence. Nonsense! That was far too outlandish to predict.
The one thing she had not awaited, and perhaps the most beautiful, was the story he did tell. She had laughed a bit as he joked in his introduction, but as he followed, her bottom lip only seemed to lower in astonishment. His secrets revealed not to be disreputable, or disheartening, but pure. He was more generous than she could have imagined, and he had been so since the age of fifteen. Hearing the story of one of the late children, her gaze softened, and she placed a hand on her heart.
Harrison mentioned his first love, and she was a bit perplexed by his rephrasing of her name, had she died? Or why was it that he made certain that he was speaking of her with respect. And hearing his telling of the rumors he spread against himself, they were hard to follow but she understood what he meant. He did not keep secrets because of any ulterior sentiment, he was just protecting them.
He finished by telling her that he had not been past his first love before, and tried to see Katrina in her. She wondered how he might perceive her identity now. She did not know if he saw pure, angelic Azucena or perhaps her more promiscuous, intellectual side, but she knew that when he implied that she was the primary person on his mind, she believed him.
“Harrison, I cannot believe how you experienced so much. And I’m sorry for the grief and slander you experienced as a result, but I feel inspired hearing your tale.” She grinned, moving on from their apologies, then inquired, searching for more pieces to visualize. “Tell me, when was the last time you visited your orphanage?”
Listening to him, she had remembered that fateful night they spent under the stars. She looked up at the sky and saw a million burning flames, yet did not explain to him her sensation, because she did not want him to know her. She did not want to be with him, because it would only be ink on paper, in a story told by her mother; forcing her to sit with a man, pretend she could just look up at stars.
Now, she was looking up, too, and funny, the shaven speckles on his beard scattered just like them.
Perhaps she had finally seen their beauty.
“Harry,” She said, calling him by his old nickname as if it were 1809 once more. “Do you remember when we were stargazing, and you asked me why I thought we may have been so lucky to witness that meteor?” Azucena’s hazel eyes twinkled, and she let herself break her barrier, and reach out to him; gently caressing Harrison’s cheek.
“I think I understand now.”