lunedì 28 gennaio 2013

Lost love - romantic novel

There are infinite ways in which two persons can fall in love. After a long friendship or after a fierce hatred; after weeks, months or years of having known each other. But the most fascinating of these stories are the ones dealing with love at first sight. No one really knows, or can rationally explain, the magic through which the mere sight of the beloved can trigger powerful emotions, of a kind never felt before. All at once life without that certain being becomes impossible,  it is urgent and imperative to live with that one person.
This is what happens between a Scottish Count and the daughter of a country priest. Strong, tormenting, powerful love at first sight.
A love story of olden times, based on true facts.

Historical romance

               
                       
 



                                                       Prologue

                     



"Noble soul, rest now in God’s bosom

For He has imbued your cheeks with His divine radiance.

Your body- under this stone

Your soul- ascending to Heaven.

Whoever beheld your face as you were dying

Will never more fear Death.

In remembrance of Livia,

Charles Edward "



In a small Transylvanian village a one hundred and fifty year -old stone cross, slightly tilted, still bears witness to the love between two young people so different in rank, religion, nationality. Although many winds and rains have passed over it, one can still make out the words, filled with regret and love.
Livia’s beauty and the young Count’s intense love for her have survived the passing of time, in the peasants’ memories and the stone cross.
 
                                                    
 
                                                          Chapter 3
 
 
 
At set hour for their date, it seemed as if love was also present in the shady meadow; it floated in the air and spilled on the ground. It generously spilled over all kinds of beings; over the birds and the bees, over the little bugs hiding in the grasses. It somehow seemed to get ready to slowly seep into Livia's as yet untouched soul, too .
Without having the slightest idea about what destiny had in store for her, she slowly walked towards the shady meadow, drawing aside the branches which stood in her way .
And when Edward, smiling, suddenly sprang from behind a fir tree and caught her waist in his strong arms, she instantly forgot all her revenge plans. The hardships her people endured, the ragged and uneducated children –they all faded away as she was riveted by the young man's blue eyes.
Barely able to breathe, prey to emotions she had never before felt, incapable to oppose his impetuous gesture, she answered his smile with her own – sincere, happy, telling him she had given in to him, she had now made peace with him forever. She was surprised to note that she felt neither ashamed nor fearful. It seemed right to just sit here, with her waist encircled by his arm, as if they had known each other since the world began, as if she had waited for him since the world began.
Next, when his arm slowly descended from her waist and his hand delicately grasped hers, she felt a wave of fire engulf her, a pleasant and yet dangerous wave. The feeling was so strong that it left her breathless.
She could sense the stream of blood in her arm speak to the stream of blood in his arm, telling each other thousands of secrets, and then rushing towards her madly fluttering heart.
Holding hands, they leisurely strolled beside the little stream dancing and spluttering amongst huge green boulders covered in slippery moss. They both were silently planning in their minds how to start the conversation; showing off their virtues and hiding their faults, afraid that any wrong gesture or unthinking word might dissolve the newly-blossoming charm of the magical encounter.
Edward was the first to start; he had no illusions about being a great heart-breaker, he had never yet met any woman worth learning these strategies and skills for – but he had learned one thing from his unwilling frequentation of Viennese salons. Forced by his young friend Karl to accompany him on his numerous visits to these familiar places, he had noted women were bound to be more sensitive to the charms of music than to those of poetry or painting.
He had seen young girls' faces transformed by the sublime harmonies of precious, delicate Robert Schumann or poetic Franz Schubert; he had seen young women's eyes fill with happiness as they floated in waltz rhythms.
 
So he asked Livia, with a mild gaze;
"What is your favourite music? Schumann? Schubert? Or perhaps Liszt?"
"None of them"answered Livia, fully aware just as the words left her lips that they might be to her disadvantage. She could decipher and play perfectly any music sheet written by these composers, but it remained totally foreign to her soul, a strange creation from far-away countries. She was more readily impressed by the Gypsy bands playing at weddings; their music was much less sophisticated but much more evocative, sometimes despairing, sometimes happy- as savage and as free as the place she had been born in.
"I am not a great music admirer, but I like painting"she quickly went on, afraid he would believe her to be devoid of any interest in the fine arts. Painting, yes, she considered it to be above any other form of art – she really appreciated its power to capture and forever fix on canvas a fleeting instant of time, a face, a landscape. It was a talent she did not have, alas. She would have liked their image, as they strolled hand in hand through the dark green foliage, to be caught in a painting too, by some trick or magic. But no painter was around; so she had to be contented with trying to fix this scene in her mind, for all eternity.
"I enjoy painting very much myself''he answered, taken aback by Livia's abrupt answer. If only he hadn't left his easel in Vienna, he mused – he could have painted her portrait, a semblance of her beautiful face that he would then carry next to his heart, wherever he went. And even if the image would have been less than perfect, he smiled to himself, his thoughts and his love would have filled in the gaps.
"I wasn't expecting this" she said, turning towards him. She had never before seen such a handsome young man, with his clear eyes as blue as the skies of this endless spring day, with golden, shoulder-length hair, and especially with such a fine-chiselled adolescent face, seeming to come straight from one of Michelangelo's paintings. He was wearing civilian clothes, a blue shirt and black trousers, and without his uniform nothing would have led one to believe he was a man of arms.
The impatient neighing of the horse waiting for his master abruptly reminded her that this was an officer, that he lived in Vienna – two problems which suddenly seemed insurmountable- so she decided to ignore them for the time being.
"It is called Eagle" said Edward, slowly walking towards the tethered horse, which neighed happily while at the same time shaking its mane in a futile attempt to free itself.
"It has been my companion in adventure for may years, we travelled many roads together and now it's not too happy at being tied up to this tree"he went on, taking a piece of sugar candy from his pocket.
 
"A handsome animal" answered Livia, not drawing any closer.
She studied the unruly horse trying to loosen the chain round its neck. Imposing and independent, it added to both the admiration and the fear she felt whenever she was near a horse. Then she looked at Edward. Under his apparent delicacy real force was hidden, as he effortlessly held the savage horse at bay.
"I have to go now, Livia, they are waiting for me at the castle. I'll be back tomorrow, though. You will be here too , won't you?"
"I'll be here for sure "she answered with no hesitation, looking straight at him as he jumped into saddle and disappeared between the trees.
There was no other course of action available for her. Her heart was ordering her to act thus.
###
 
Edward was slowly climbing the steep road leading to the castle. As he drew near he could see it in all its majesty, with massive, grey stone walls sloping over each other as if hastily put together by long-forgotten giants. The rounded battlements and their richly ornamented windows softened the rigid aspect of time-blackened grey stones. Here and there, small clumps of lavender or fresh grass hung on precariously to crags in the stones.
It all had an abandoned air from afar- but as he drew nearer he could hear different sounds showing the massive structure was alive, filled with fervour; neighing horses, confusedly mixed voices, the rhythmic noise of a blacksmith mending a blade, happy laughter of children running in the streets, and the church bell whose deafening clang drowned everything else now.
Leading his horse Edward entered the castle gates just as the last bell-sound was heard. From the kitchens enticing smells of dinner filled the streets; goulash and golden roasts, apple pie and freshly-baked bread, just out of the oven. As he was making his way towards the central plaza, saluting the old women who knitted in front of their jasmine-perfumed gates, he saw his aide coming towards him.
"Good evening, Officer"this one said, taking the horse's reins from his hand and stroking its mane.
"Good evening, Achim. Take good care of my horse, give it a cleaning, food and water" Edward replied.
"Never fear, Sir, I will treat it just right"
"Thank you"smiled Edward. He had no doubts, Eagle couldn't be left in better care than that of his old and faithful aide.
While Achim was heading towards the stables, Edward glanced at his pocket clock. Only twenty minutes left until seven o'clock, when he had to be present at the official dinner!
Anyway, all the noise in the square made him feel out of place there, so he retreated towards a rampart from which one could easily see the whole valley,
the slowly rolling hills and the faraway mountains.
The fields and the villages were slowly being engulfed by evening, smoke rose from the chimneys as the housewives prepared dinner. Edward's eyes strained in the direction of Livia's village; in one of those small houses a charming being was living, a being he could hardly wait to meet again.
"Salve, dear friend!"a voice behind him said suddenly. Surprised, he turned to see his old friend Karl who was approaching with open arms.
"Salve, Karl!" he gladly answered, affectionately embracing him. It was the Archduke who had introduced them to each other, all those years ago- and a strange friendship was born between two totally different persons.
He, an orphan, timid, reserved and with no living relatives; Karl, the son of a rich businessman, with contacts in high places, surrounded by the unhealthy affection of his doting parents and his innumerable aunts. Each of them envied the other what he could never have. Edward would have liked a home, Karl dreamed of independence and seized any opportunity to travel to Transylvania, far from his kin.
"How was the voyage? Long, tiring and uncomfortable, isn't it?" Edward ironically asked. Karl was crazy about bear-hunting, but too spoiled to enjoy riding on horseback for any distance. In order not to miss the event, he had travelled to Arad by train and thence in a luxury carriage.
"Leave that; better tell me where are you coming from at this hour?" He had just arrived at the castle, but a few kind souls had already informed him about Edward's gallant adventure with a young woman from the valley.
"I certainly wasn't ready for it, but yes, I've fallen in love. You were absolutely right when you warned me that Transylvania was going to steal my heart; that is exactly what happened." Edward answered, with a serious look on his face.
"Good God, Edward, I thought it was just a simple adventure, and here you are talking about love!" retorted Karl in a disapproving manner. He often travelled to Transylvania to enjoy the noble Magyar women, beautiful, passionate and deliciusly trying to imitate their aristocratic counterparts from Buda and Vienna. He adored the way they strove to seem much more than provincial ladies. Sometimes proud, sometimes timid, most of the time filled with suspicion- not exactly easy prey – that was the reason he enjoyed courting them so much. He couldn't understand how Edward had fallen for a Romanian- it was well known Romanians were just primitives who hated Austrians.
"Don't make a hasty judgement, Karl. You don't know her, have never set eyes on her, so wait before saying anything bad about her! She is very important to me, I felt this from the first moment I saw her!" replied Edward in a meek tone. He was fond of his long-time friend Karl, but at the same time wouldn't have been able to accept any insults this latter might direct at Livia.

"But look around you, Edward- beyond this mountain is another castle, then another, then another. In each of them there is a Grof's daughter only too ready to marry a Scottish Count, even one without lands or fortune, as you are. The title, my dear friend, the title of Count alone would bring you a life of leisure beyond your dreams!"said Karl, trying to make him see the right way. That is, the way he himself adored- that way made of mornings spent riding through the verdant, dew-covered fields, of afternoons dedicated to lazy siestas, of evenings filled with parties drawing long into the night with Gypsies playing their soulful violin tunes.
He was in love with one or two Grofs' daughters, and, as yet undecided which one he should propose to, he was commuting between their castles and country estates, while his bank accounts in Vienna were getting bigger and bigger thanks to the skilled administration of his family lawyers. He had always hoped Edward would choose this kind of life too- and now that his friend had given him the news, he was taken aback.
"You well know I spent my time in military schools, there is no other life for me except the military career, and I owe this to the Austrian Empire which has become like a sort of second family to me!" answered Edward, a little amused by the zeal his friend was deploying in order to make him change his mind.
"Like hell you did, Edward! You were forced to do it and now all this military discipline has got in your blood – but it can as easily get out of it too; it's just a matter of letting the tides of life carry you! As for the Austrian Empire, never fear, someone else will immediately take your place, and mine too, when I'll give up the army career! And I hope to do this as soon as possible"continued Karl, in a determined voice. He hated the Army, he had chosen this path on a whim and was fully aware he was going to abandon it at some point, with little regret. He just hoped Edward would do the same, and settle down in some mansion or another with a docile and passionate Magyar noblewoman. He hated the possibility of people hunting each other, leaving their bodies on muddy battlefields. He favoured fox and bear hunting over fighting men of another race for unclear reasons.
"Dinner is served, Officer" said the old aide who had approached, interrupting the friend's conversation.
"Thank you Achim" Edward answered, as the old soldier ceremoniously saluted Karl.
"We'll talk about all this later, Edward" Karl answered. "I can smell a delicious aroma of baked apples and my stomach is starting to riot! After a whole day of commuting between coaches, all I want is a Magyar dinner" he continued, his mind on the goulash he liked so much.

As he entered the long hall and took in the walls adorned with hunting trophies and the long oaken table filled with all kinds of dishes, Edward understood their hosts had been informed both about their arrival and about the thickness of Karl's bank account. Karl was an eligible bachelor, much sought after in the higher circles of society; young ladies talked about him in college, letters in which his name appeared travelled regularly between manors and castles, mothers dreamt of catching him and then showing him off like a prize trophy, a way of getting away from provincial tedium and on to Vienna.
The table was even richer than the previous night, there were more serving wenches festively dressed, the Magyar Grof, imposing and moustached, was even more jovial. He had never before entertained such important guests, coming all the way from Vienna.
The blood-drowned 1848 Revolution, when the Hungarians had fought for emancipation from the Austrians, seemed all but forgotten now. After eighteen years of diplomatic scheming, the Austrians seemed to start looking with favour upon some Hungarian claims- amongst them, Transylvania's annexation. By his warm welcome, the Grof clearly wanted to make clear his appreciation for the newly-born friendship between the Austrians and the Hungarians.
The host ceremoniously showed them to their places. The Archduke was seated at the head of the table, with Edward and Karl at his sides.
Other important guests - notaries, judges, rich merchants- filled the rest of the table.
"My family and I wish you good appetite!" said the host, glass in hand, solemnly toasting the Archduke. Then his gaze strained towards the hearth, where his wife and two daughters were silently doing some embroidery. His look clearly stated the pride he took in his family.
The two girls were in the likeness of their mother's slightly faded good looks; their youthful freshness and the sly eyes inherited from their father marked them as much-sought-after parties for the young noblemen of the county. They eyed the young guests on the sly, especially Ilona with her thick braids sitting as a crown atop her head.

 
Although the atmosphere was pleasant, Edward left the party early, while the other guests were still enjoying the ruby-red wine and the animated conversation.
The room allotted to him was simple, sparsely furnished with quality, preciously crafted Italian pieces. Thick rugs, meant to keep out the stinging winter cold, covered the walls – for everything about Transylvania's seasons seemed excessive. He clearly remembered the fear with which one of his aides, a native of these parts, talked about Transylvanian winter.

It was a rough time, with snowstorms and blizzards running over vale and hill, from one mountaintop to the next, making the frozen trees sing like so many dissonant harps. Often the sounds were so strange as to curdle the blood in your veins – they seemed to include wails and groans, screams and peals of hysterical laughter. It was as if, all of a sudden, the innumerable dead of all the battles ever fought in this land had risen and were having a devilish party on the frozen plains. Villagers were crossing themselves and hiding in their little houses whose small windows and doors seemed barely able to withstand the onslaught of furious winds. They huddled next to each other in their cold beds, listening to the howling of hungry wolves and watching the mad winds trace crazed dance patterns over the hilltops. And the strangest thing of all was that next day not one trace remained – all was calm and sunny, the snowdrifts the only reminder of the night's terrors.
But tonight was calm and fragrant, perhaps a little too chilly for a spring evening.

 
After a peaceful sleep, Edward was awoken by an unusual commotion.
It was still very early, and women servants seemed to run every which way carrying torches, while grumbling menservants dragged sleepy neighing horses from the stables. Big food sacks were stacked near the thick wall of the fountain, in the centre of the square.
Edward dressed with no great enthusiasm – unfortunately he could not miss the great hunt, not after travelling all the way from Vienna for it. He was fed up with so many forests and coves, he had travelled too much lately and would have appreciated a little rest, but he could not spoil Karl's pleasure. He had to be present at this damned hunt. He smiled while drawing on his boots; the day was not completely wasted, for in the evening his prize was waiting for him in the secret meadow- Livia.
They hurriedly left the castle, came down the steep hill and continued at brisk trot past rows of houses with darkened windows. They enjoyed the cool air of the dawn, then entered the woods, branches still covered with dew.
Hiding in wooden cabins, completely still and barely breathing, they waited for the bear to draw into gun-range, attracted by a meaty bait.
The hours seemed to drag on forever, the undecided bear crept closer and then ran away again, foreseeing the danger but unable to resist his own greed.
A sharp sound and the bear was down, a large handsome specimen which would offer Karl many hours of conversation in the Viennese salons.

 
 
Livia ate sparsely, half-listening to her parents' talk. About so-and-so from the village, about newborn babies and harvests, about the orchards and the fields. They had supper early, it was just five in the afternoon but they planned to return the fields and work in the coolness of the evening. The rains had made weeds spring up all over the fields, and it was hard work just trying to get rid of them.
Livia was contented, as this suited her plans just fine. Edward was waiting for her in the meadow, and she wanted to be able to go there without having to offer endless explanations.
As soon as her parents finished their meal, she hurried to clean up the table and wash the plates. After making sure they had left for the fields, she dressed carefully, cast an eye in the mirror and hurried towards the secret meadow.
As she was drawing closer she could see him through the trees; her heart started beating madly in her chest.
"Good evening, my forest nymph!"he said, handing her a bunch of flowers he had gathered while waiting. Seeing her like that, with her white gauze blouse gathered at the waist by a thick belt, with a long floating skirt and her black hair down to her waist, seeming to dance as she approached through the trees, this image had come unbidden in his mind.
"Good evening, wandering horseman!"she amusedly retorted while accepting the flowers. She had only seen him three times so far, for her he was just a wandering horseman, but she abandoned her hand in his and listened to her heart's mad flutters as she tried to control her voice.
They walked slowly, with no apparent purpose, but Livia was heading towards the river at the edge of the village. It was one of her favourite places, especially in the early evening.
"Do you wish to find out the history of this river?"she asked. They were now walking along its shore, seeing the fast furious waters run downhill as if in a hurry to reach some important appointment, drawing over stones and tree branches.
"I would be curious to hear it"he answered. He was sure a strange sort of tale would be offered. The people here were renowned for their superstitious nature and their desire to link every mountain peak, every river valley to a story. This had been going on for hundreds of years, and the stories were told and retold, each generation adding a little bit to the original.
"This river's story is a sad one. See, there in the distance, a frighteningly steep mountain peak?! On that crag over there was once a fortress, more than four hundred years ago. Its ruins can still be seen. It was inhabited by Lady Elisabeth, the wife of Vlad Dracul – the Devil. As the Turks were drawing near, rather than fall into their hands she threw herself from the highest peak, she became one with the rocks below, and her blood turned the river water red.

Every time I come here I can't help thinking with a lot of compassion about this poor Princess. It is said that even now Vlad Dracul's soul is despairingly haunting the place where his beloved wife died" finished Livia, gazing towards the rising moon. The same moon had shone upon Elisabeth's last seconds of life; now, it was lighting up her love.
"Let's rather think about more cheerful things; tell me about Vienna"she continued, bowing gracefully to avoid a bent branch.
"I've been always fascinated by this city"she went on. She had seen many photographs and chromolytographies of its large boulevards bordered by imposing buildings, rich parks, monumental churches, interesting theatres and museums – the luxury and the attention paid to every detail.
Edward stopped suddenly and looked straight in her eyes. He had barely listened to her words, he was preoccupied by an important decision, perhaps the most important in his life so far. When she had bent to avoid the branch her hair had brushed over his face and the scent of lavender and roses had made his heart skip a beat.
This perfume brought back long-forgotten memories of time spent with his family. Very few memories, and therefore all the more precious to him.
His mind's eye saw a blond lady with kind blue eyes and the same rose scent reached his nostrils as she bent to take him in her arms. A portly man with blonde moustaches was running towards him through some castle park, and a small fluffy dog was following him around, barking happily. Then he saw again the tearful faces of the servants, the cold lonely bed in which a little boy was sobbing, the long trip to Vienna at the early age of nine. All of a sudden Scotland and the lost castle didn't seem so far away, and he suddenly understood that Livia was all he needed for the present and the future, but also for making peace with his troubled past.
"You will go there with me, my forest nymph. I'll rent an apartment outside Vienna, in a forested glade where you'll feel quite at home. I love you, Livia. I plan to come and ask for your hand in marriage tomorrow, and if your parents agree we will get married and leave for Austria as soon as possible. I don't think I am able to live without you, or to leave here without taking you with me!"he said, taking her small hands in his.
"I like Vienna, but I'm not sure I can come with you"answered Livia, taken aback by his reaction. "You could not understand. My life is here, amongst these hills and these downtrodden peasants who are my countrymen. In all the years I spent in college I felt like a foreigner, alone and despised. Here I feel at home. In Vienna I would be just a Romanian, patronized by the Austrians- here I can be myself, with no obstacles and no fears! "

"Are you in love with me, Livia?"he asked while continuing to stare at her.
"You ask whether I am in love ? All the pain I feel inside when you are not with me, all the anticipation, all the happiness I feel whenever I set eyes on you – I believe this is called love. I even started to love the German language. I had learned it without great pleasure, it seemed a harsh tongue but now it has become the most wonderful language in the world, because it's the language I use when I speak to you! Nevertheless, I cannot come with you. Forgive me- I am too cowardly!"
Overcome by the burden of confessing her love for him, she was in tears now as she was sure that by her words she had lost him. She gazed upon his pale face, as ethereal as one of the young saints painted on Orthodox church walls. The blonde hair, covering his high forehead; the strange blue eyes in the moonlight. He had just told her he loved her. It all depended on her – and she had just said "no".
They stopped and sat on a fallen tree trunk. With his arm around her, they silently watched the shining river by the light of the full moon, listening to the secret language of nature and searching for answers. A frog leapt from the water and an owl hooted on a high branch. Edward would have liked to stop time's flow, to just stay here forever, in each other's arms.
"Then I have to ask for a transfer to Transylvania". He had taken this decision suddenly, while gazing at her tearful face. He had to admit Livia was right. In Austria she would just have suffered, all alone, waiting for him to return from the regiment. He now knew this was the right decision; he didn't want to lose her.
"Truly?"asked Livia, expansively throwing herself in his arms. To stay here in her beloved Transylvania, together with the man she loved!
Their lips melted in a first kiss from which they drew back happy and relieved.
They knew they had reached a decision which was going to change their lives forever.
A rustle sounded from the nearby bushes, and the hence peaceful horse started to bow its head and neigh, as if understanding the importance of his master's decision.
"Please take me home. It is not seemly for a young lady, and a priest's daughter too, to be seen in the woods late at night accompanied by a young and handsome Austrian officer!"she jokingly said.
He untethered the horse and, encircling her waist, started for the village, asleep under the moonlight. Laughingly they passed the Gypsy encampment, where a big camp fire was burning bright. Livia gazed towards its light, but could only see faceless shadows, darkened by the flames' power.
An old woman rose to stir the embers, and as she did this Livia could see her face. It was the old Gypsy woman who had told her fortune a few days ago.
She recognized Livia and smiled with a large toothless mouth.
Scared by so much ugliness, Livia started walking faster.

# # #

Livia lithely climbed the hillock leading to the church. She had still time before seeing Edward, but this time she wished to speak to her father about it all. After the promises they had made to each other the night before, she needed her parents' blessing. She would start by telling her father, who was always easier to face; later, she would try to tell her mother too.
She neared the little shed next to the church, where her father was painting and sculpting crosses which would be given as gifts to the peasants on different occasions, births or weddings. He was always giving gifts and loved doing it.
She paused at the door and watched him apply a touch of colour to the kind face of a Virgin holding her child. Her father's face seemed relaxed, far from his wife's constant nagging and the peasants' problems, as if he had left behind him any daily cares and was concentrating just on the easel.
Watching him, Livia felt a wave of love; she remembered long winter evenings when he was reading fairy tales next to the friendly stove, long summer days spent strolling through their beloved woods.
He had been the one to teach her not to attach any importance to the love of luxury or womanly trinkets, but rather to search for the inner beauty of the heart or the pure one of nature. Contrary to her mother, who was always advising her to cultivate physical beauty in order to make a rich marriage.
She sat next to him, on a small wooden chair. The priest smiled lovingly.
"Good day, Father"she said, starting to clean the paintbrushes. "For whom are you painting this icon?"
"Next Saturday I'll officiate a wedding. It's my gift for the young couple"he answered, mixing a few shades of blue.
"But how are you going to finish it? You just painted the faces" asked Livia, looking at the half-drawn icon. But she already knew that even if he had to stay up all night, her father would have finished it.
"I can help if you wish"she offered. She had often done this as a child, handing him things he might need, and she was glad to be able to just sit beside him, quietly, looking at the painting which started to slowly take shape.
The priest paused in his work and looked at her with enquiring eyes.
"Are you sure you have nothing better to do in the afternoons? Perhaps a walk with a young man through the forest glades ?!"
Livia turned beet-red and hung her head. So her father already knew it all, perhaps some peasant had seen them and told him everything. For sure the whole village was talking about the priest's daughter and the foreigner.

"This is just why I came here for, Father. I have to tell you all. You know, I think I've fallen in love and it should be the most wonderful moment of my life – but it seems this love is more of a pain. He is an officer in the Austrian army, he is of a different religion, my love can only bring suffering to everyone- to you, to Mother, to me "she said with tears in her eyes. She knew her father's opinions about conversion to Catholicism.
The priest looked at his daughter with a serious face. Although he liked the Count and he appreciated his noble heart, the difference in religion was not easy to accept. It would have sent all the wrong signals towards the peasants; he was a resolute fighter against Catholicism; but the desperation and suffering so clear on her face made him stand up and hold her protectingly in his arms.
"Livia, do you remember that once, long ago, I promised you I'll do anything to make you happy?! Now is the moment to fulfill this promise.
My love for you will make me overcome my religious prejudices. I have just one fear- that your mother won't agree with all this; she has other plans for you."
It was enough for Livia.
"Thank you Father" she said, kissing his hand.
"As for Mother, she will be hard to convince, but not impossible" she continued, and forgetting all about the offer of help she hurried towards the meadow.
# # #

Sitting on an old gnarled tree trunk, distractedly looking at a delicate white flower, Livia was wondering whether Edward might not have started to regret the promises he had made the previous evening. She had been waiting there for more than an hour and not a sign of him; nothing interrupted the ominous silence. The sun had disappeared behind some clouds, and a chill wind made her shiver in her fine silk dress. The little meadow suddenly looked sinister and forbidding. She rose, crossing through the woods in a hurry to get to the cherry orchard. From there it was just a short way to the village.
She had just crossed the little road and was entering the orchard when she saw a horse and rider drawing near.
"Excuse me Livia, I couldn't leave the castle until now"he hurriedly said, as he was dismounting and tying the horse to an old cherry tree.
"The Grof wanted to play cards and I had to comply" he continued. He had teamed up with Karl against the Grof and the Archduke, and to Karl's great despair, their team had lost! His mind was far from the aces and the jokers, he was afraid that Livia would get worried waiting for him in the meadow. At long last Karl had understood what the problem was and accepted defeat, giving up any chance of taking their money back.

"I am so happy now that you are here"she answered as he embraced her. She felt the heat of his body warm up her shivering flesh, as the cold wind rose and shook the cherry blossoms from the branches.
Entangled in each other's arms, the two lovers watched a swirl of white and pink petals cover them as the sky grew suddenly dark and a distant peal of thunder resounded from the mountains. They broke their embrace just as a quick and violent spring storm was about to begin.
"Hurry, you might still make it to the village in time"Edward said, fearful she might get drenched by the sudden downpour.
"I'll see you tomorrow around the same time"he continued, holding the rearing horse.
She left with a vague wave of her hand, and he hurried towards the castle.

 
A thick rain cloud had been covering the castle and was now headed for the valley. The storm lashed at his face, but he welcomed it, raising his face to the falling drops and letting them wet him all through. He saw with amazement a rider heading towards him just as everyone else seemed to be running for shelter. As the mysterious rider drew near, he saw it was Ilona, her cheeks rosy under a thick wool hood.
"I brought you an overcoat"she said, handing it to him. From her room at the top of the castle tower she could see over the treetops all the way to the orchard. She had noticed the approaching storm, the feminine shadow hurriedly running through the trees, and without giving it a moment's thought she had grabbed the coat and hurried to meet Edward.
Edward accepted the overcoat with a puzzled frown and thanked the girl; she was already leaving, proud on her horse, her dishevelled hair streaming behind her. As he looked at her, he told himself that only a Magyar woman would be able to handle a horse in such decisive and forceful manner – it was in her blood.
They returned to the castle, met with puzzled looks from the few servants who still tried to shelter the animals and goods from the storm.
He took his leave of her with a smile, and she answered in kind, her look telling and promising much more than her lips had ever said. A bit mystified, Edward retreated to his room. He was wet, cold and thankful for the brisk fire in the stone hearth.

In the castle's grand hall, in the imposing stone fireplace whole tree trunks were slowly burning and filling the room with a pleasant warmth. The guests raised wine cups and toasted each other, choice morsels of food covered the tables and conversation was heated.

Karl's eyes strained more and more often towards Ilona, who timidly inclined her head.
Drawing near, Edward enquired
"Do you know how long are we going to be at the castle, Karl?"
"A day or two, no more" this one answered, his eyes never leaving the beautiful Ilona who sat near the fire with an embroidery in her hands.
Edward smiled; whenever Karl looked towards a girl in this certain manner, his intentions were obvious, he thought.
Later that night, dizzied by the warmth of the fire and feeling drowsy after too much food and drink, he was heading towards his room when he noticed two persons in what seemed to be an overheated discussion.
They were Karl and Ilona, and although he was unable to hear anything he had the clear impression Ilona was refusing something with a decidedly brutal "no". She left with a straight back and a proud attitude, while an angry Karl gave the stone wall a good kick.

# # #

The next day Edward found Karl on the ramparts, studying the valley below with a far-away look in his eyes.
The rain had stopped but the weather was still close.
"Get ready, Edward, the Archduke wants to leave today. Even if the rain has stopped, the hunt is compromised – too much mud in the forest! If we leave around ten o'clock we will reach Grof Gabor's castle just in time. And the day after tomorrow, we'll head straight for Vienna!"
"Karl, I really need half an hour!"retorted Edward. "If anybody asks about me, don't answer; just tell the Archduke I'll be back in time" he continued, hurrying along the wet street.
"Fine, fine, but don't be late" replied Karl with an ironic smile. He had guessed from the panic on Edward's face that he was running to HER. So it really was a serious thing?! He was extremely curious now, he really wanted to find out where this strange love-story was headed, and above all, how the whole thing would end.
In the village happy children were jumping and running through the muddy flakes of water left by the rain. Women were hanging washing out on the clotheslines, embroidering in front of their houses, gossiping a bit and keeping an eye on the children. The men were pottering about, repairing broken fences, mending their shovels and scythes, enlarging the ditches so that rainwater from the slopes could pass through without flooding the courtyards.
As the fields were all covered in water, everybody was using this respite from daily chores to catch up on small jobs around the house and the courtyard. They all were amazed to see Edward on the main street, in full uniform of the Austrian Empire, proudly riding his majestic horse.
Men and women stopped in their tracks, and the children were still.
The small ones, scared by the strange rider and marked by all the stories people were telling about the Austrian soldiers, took refuge in the nearest courtyards- although a few stood their ground just to prove their bravery in front of their playmates. Edward asked for directions to Livia's house, and even though no one spoke the language, they all pointed in the good direction. Her name alone had been indication enough.
Edward stopped in front of the house. A little bigger than the neighbouring ones, but still small compared to Austrian dwellings, it looked quaint, with its wooden balcony covered by climbing roses, and with the little garden overgrown with a variety of flowers.
"Good morning Madam. I would like to speak to Livia, if I may" he articulated, hoping the woman would understand his German.
Catrina, usually a slow person, headed now towards the house in a hurry and disappeared into Livia's room.
As it was facing the woods on the opposite side of the house, Livia had been unaware of both Edward's arrival and the commotion it had caused.
As soon as her mother told her about it, she ran towards the little gate.
Drawing near, she fearfully gazed into his deep blue eyes.
"Hello, Livia - I just came to say goodbye. Unfortunately, our short stay here is finished – but I promise I'll be back. As soon as I reach Vienna, I'll ask to be transferred in Transylvania. Then I'll come and ask for your hand in marriage, according to custom. I would be honoured if, from this moment on, you would consider yourself my fiancee."
As Livia was quiet, burdened by the words "departure", "fiancee" - he went on;
"I swear! I swear I'll be back, otherwise I wouldn't have taken the time to come to your house – I would just have left and you would have never heard of me again. But I love you. Waite for me, I'll be back in Transylvania in a month or two at the most !"
"Fine, my love"answered Livia. "I love you too and I will wait impatiently for your return" Her eyes said more than her lips. She wished she could hold him in her arms, but she could feel her mother's enquiring eyes behind the curtains and the peasants' curious gazes behind the wooden fences.
Edward rode hurriedly along the road, emptied now of people.
 
When Livia entered the house, the priest's wife had already understood all. Although never able to fall in love herself, she recognized the look in her daughter's eyes; she was in love.
Angrily, she slammed the vanilla cake in the oven.