Chapter 5: A Lady

Lady Montenegro's living room was considerably full. The newly maiden gave giggles as they admired the younger children of Mrs. Helton, an incredibly annoying tycoon, who once or again posed to show off their muscles under social clothing. Artemisia could see all those girls' blood on her cheeks at least two kilometers away.

The older women were pampering a young woman who had recently married, and who was already with a slightly protruding belly under the dress.

"It has to be a girl! You got pregnant in the waning and found out on a blood moon!" One of the women, Miss Jollyn, said excitedly her guesses to the gender of the baby.

Baby girls were a gift from the Moon, especially when pregnancy is discovered during the Full Moon, which means that the blessing of the Birth Spirits is falling on the new life that will arrive in the family. Usually during the remaining six months the priestess of the house bathes daisies to the mothers, always with songs of the Mother Goddess and letting the petals stay in the belly.

"Hilda dreamed of a field of love carnations, at that moment I felt as if the Moon herself had touched my belly and told me that I would become a mother!” Angelina, the youngest mother, spoke excitedly as she passed her hand over her belly.

The necklace of love carnations lay delicately on the young mother's neck, a somewhat cute sympathy for the protection of the mother and baby.

Artemisia stopped paying attention to the conversation, turning to look at the same where she was sitting. Among the debutantes who had not yet married and the widows. She hated that table, hated seeing the girls' debut rings and the wedding rings in the hands of the widows. The blonde was the only one who did not wear either, since after the death of the third suitor she left the jewel locked under lock and key.

"It's so unexpected to still see such a young girl abandoning the maiden's life” Mrs. Tarion said with a hint of sarcastic, which she hasn't abandoned since the first day Artemisia stepped into the damn city while looking at the young woman's gloved hands.

"Clotilde, don't be rude!" The best friend, also a widow, scolded Mrs. Tarion with an annoying laugh “There must be an explanation for her leaving the debut ring aside. You know, honey, my sister did it too” The woman's gaze returned to Artemisia, who smiled as kind as she could “She fell in love with a farmer, but he was married! It was a scandal at the time.”

"I'm sure the lady's sister's heart was never the same” The blonde said before taking a sip of lavender and fennel tea. At least the food was good enough for the girl to always want to come back.

"Oh, yes! She said she would never let another man take care of her heart, Lucrezia said only the farmer would take that place!”

It was a lie and Artemisia knew it. People always made up the funniest, sometimes absurd stories to escape from a hall full of suitors, dances and tedious meetings. Artemísia hoped that moving into her great aunt's mansion had been a strong enough warning that she did not want to get married.

"Our mothers know each other, Mrs. Yule” One of the maiden turned to the second widow, who was still grieving for her sister, with a smile that did not please Artemisia very much "Unfortunately it was not an unrequited love that had broken Miss Carmesim's heart.”

If she could disappear like cigarette smoke, Artemisia would sell her own soul so she could do that. No matter where it went, the damn name had gone everywhere.

"I don't think a subject like this should be brought up at such a relaxed moment, Miss Xavier, it's such a beautiful day for it” The blonde tried to control her tone of voice while grabbing some strawberry and chocolate macarons.

But the human being is by far the worst being that the gods have shaped. If Artemisia could shove her candy pie down that girl's throat, she would without hesitation. The teenager's cruel smile grew while drinking tea, grew because Mrs. Yule's damned turned around like a dog when she wants to play and looked at them both.

"Come on, Miss! You don't have to worry so much about these things, the Spirits aren't that rigid.”

Artemísia definitely wanted to die.

"Unfortunately...”

"My suitors died," the young woman said, trying to sound indifferent and hurt, the fate of those who intended to put a ring on her finger “Since I was 15 this, unfortunately, occurred.”

The silence that remained on the table was totally uncomfortable, but at least Artemisia did not let a grafted teenager in any way use it as a letter of offense against her. Mom's been doing this her whole life, that game the young lady already knew the rules. Who doesn't want to know a secret or an absurd theory about the heiress of one of the largest families in the country? People promised worlds and funds so anything wouldn't leak.

"Oh, dear... My condolences” Mrs. Yule said, seeming really to be a regret to have insisted on knowing about it.

The moment of silence, thanks to the Spirits, lasted a short time, since talking about the mayor and his "nocturnal companions" was much more interesting than digging through the story of a poor cursed girl.

Artemisia was able to relax in the chair while slowly returning to being an almost invisible presence in that living room. She didn't care much for that, as long as the dumplings, cookies and tea kept coming at her, it didn't matter if they saw her there or not. People have returned to acting as usual, each group gossiping about some very important agenda for tea time.

At some point, she had to get up to go to the bathroom. She looked at all the useless paintings and mini sculptures that were in theLady Montenegro’s house; there was even a figurine that seemed to adequately represent a part of his great-aunt's vineyard, the swing which also had some branches rising by his support, painted with light blue, gold and black. A beautiful work that Delfine probably knew of existed before joining the ancestors in the family mausoleum.

When she returned to the tea room, the chair where she was sitting had been occupied by a delayed debutante who talked excitedly with the other women, probably about some subject of artemísia's total disinterest. The girl looked around looking for some table no one would care about her breaking in. At the end of the tea room, there was a woman sitting alone, away from the others and the pleasant sunlight coming through the stained glass windows. She was alone, siluting in her cup as she looked at where the rest of the guests were. Holding her skirt, Artemisia approached the woman slowly and placed her gloved hand on the back of the chair and drew a gentle smile.

"Can I sit here?" asked in the sweetest way she could. However, there was no answer.

The young lady waited a minute, two minutes, then three. When was about to do four minutes, she decided to sit in front of the woman, just whispered "excuse me" and dragged the chair. She didn't want to seem rude or arrogant, however, she wouldn't stand the rest of the afternoon tea standing before the lady who seemed owes to the whole situation.

"Are you g-

"One day I met a woman," the lady began to speak, still face down “she was so cruel and beautiful, she always had a smile as bright as the sun on her lips. She was beautiful. Her skin was smooth as porcelain, so beautiful, so shiny." the sound of the cup hitting the saucer caused any other noise to disappear immediately. "Her beauty accompanied her cruelty, hidden deep within her. The raw and bitter cruelty. She killed her own husband. Why? He hated her smile, hated her voice, hated her paintings. Her husband hated her, everything his wife loved, he hated. That included him.

Artemisia looked at the woman, completely confused and intrigued by the story she began to tell. The lady took a macaron and began to chew slowly, oreof the curiosity of the young woman who was in front of her. When she finished chewing, the woman put her hand on the table.

"One day, her husband told her that he hated her, that he hated her smile and her paintings. The woman just smiled, it made the man angry and started screaming. He shouted about his wife's beautiful skin was cold as marble, said her hair was shiny and irritating, they never grew, and it irritated him. The man screamed, screamed and screamed for hours, hoping something would take away the woman's smile. And he did. After so many hours of screaming, the two undressed and had sex on the living room floor; a violent and hateful sex, it was at that moment that the woman's smile accompanied her groans of ecstasy.

A cold breeze passed through Artemisia's skin, chilling her instantly. The girl looked into the lounge, looking for some waiter who could bring her a cup of tea, but it was as if there were only the two women in the room. The lights also seemed weaker.

"When they finished, the woman got up and still naked walked to one of the candlesticks in the room. She took and threw the candles on her husband, who began to burn and despair. The husband begged for help, he couldn’t cry because the tears dried too fast so that they could drain. He said how beautiful his wife was, how much he loved his smile and everything related to her, but what about the woman? She was sitting, painting her husband's suffering with a smile on her face.