MADELENA
Sitting on the porch overlooking the garden, my mind drifts back to the years following that fateful marriage. Never was a union so wrong from the first moment and destined to end in heartache for all involved. Little did I know at the time the greatest heartache would fall upon the babe who would one day be the handsome and flawed man so many believe to be heartless.
Years go by in the Salvatore household, the only thing marking the passage of time are the elaborate celebrations Mary puts on for holidays and the birthday of Damon, her most adored child. The impish toddler has every member of the household wrapped around his chubby fingers and the twinkle of blue eyes produces more cookies than the grandest bakery. The sound of laughter fills the house and he is light personified on the darkest of days.
As long as the master isn’t about.
Giuseppe travels a great deal for business and the beginning of each trip is marked by a collective sigh of relief. Footsteps are allowed to fall a bit heavier, voices can be raised in merriment, and the cherubic bundle of energy is no longer confined to the nursery. Bubbly giggles and found wildflowers are scattered throughout the hallways to be followed like breadcrumbs by an indulgent mother desperate to cling to happy times.
When the master returns it is as if the sun ducks into hiding behind the clouds. Mary does not wish to conceal her treasure in the nursery, but Guiseppe finds the smallest transgressions to rain harsh words upon his little head. But these are not nearly as harsh as the blows rained on Mary for interceding on her son’s behalf. And intercede she does. Every time, knowing the night will bring retribution and her soft cry can be heard in the halls when the master returns to his room. I cry with her and curse the spell that leaves me powerless.
Only when Mary begins to increase with child a second time did the heavy hand lift. He would finally have fruit of his seed and we all hoped a new peace could be found. Maybe this child would heal some part of this obviously damaged man.
The night the new baby entered the world was marked by a heavy sense of foreboding in the air. The servants knew there was something wrong as Mary screamed in agony, begging for someone to make sure her child survived, regardless of the impact on her own life. The blood poured forth even faster than the agonizing howls before Guiseppe finally left to find a doctor, more concerned about the appearance of having a weak wife than the outcome of the delivery. No one seemed aware of the small form hiding under the table in the hallway listening to his mother fight for her life and the life of this new person he has already vowed to protect from their father.
A new cry joined in just as the mother lost the last of her strength to voice her own. The brooding brow was prominent from the moment he arrived and life would only gift him with more reasons to present it. The maid bundled Stefan in linens and took him out to meet the older brother still reeling from what he had heard. There was no point, they are presumed, in staying with a woman who would soon be a corpse, so there was no one to witness the newest servant girl, too new to have received her vervain amulet. She was easily compelled to travel back and forth to her true employer delivering news of household developments. The swish of a red wool riding cloak as it brushes against a doorway, followed by the heavy clomp of two booted henchmen, is the only sound heard beyond the ticking of the grandfather clock and the tears of Mary’s boys.
“Bring her with us,” Rebekah commanded. “There is still time.”
Sitting on the porch overlooking the garden, my mind drifts back to the years following that fateful marriage. Never was a union so wrong from the first moment and destined to end in heartache for all involved. Little did I know at the time the greatest heartache would fall upon the babe who would one day be the handsome and flawed man so many believe to be heartless.
Years go by in the Salvatore household, the only thing marking the passage of time are the elaborate celebrations Mary puts on for holidays and the birthday of Damon, her most adored child. The impish toddler has every member of the household wrapped around his chubby fingers and the twinkle of blue eyes produces more cookies than the grandest bakery. The sound of laughter fills the house and he is light personified on the darkest of days.
As long as the master isn’t about.
Giuseppe travels a great deal for business and the beginning of each trip is marked by a collective sigh of relief. Footsteps are allowed to fall a bit heavier, voices can be raised in merriment, and the cherubic bundle of energy is no longer confined to the nursery. Bubbly giggles and found wildflowers are scattered throughout the hallways to be followed like breadcrumbs by an indulgent mother desperate to cling to happy times.
When the master returns it is as if the sun ducks into hiding behind the clouds. Mary does not wish to conceal her treasure in the nursery, but Guiseppe finds the smallest transgressions to rain harsh words upon his little head. But these are not nearly as harsh as the blows rained on Mary for interceding on her son’s behalf. And intercede she does. Every time, knowing the night will bring retribution and her soft cry can be heard in the halls when the master returns to his room. I cry with her and curse the spell that leaves me powerless.
Only when Mary begins to increase with child a second time did the heavy hand lift. He would finally have fruit of his seed and we all hoped a new peace could be found. Maybe this child would heal some part of this obviously damaged man.
The night the new baby entered the world was marked by a heavy sense of foreboding in the air. The servants knew there was something wrong as Mary screamed in agony, begging for someone to make sure her child survived, regardless of the impact on her own life. The blood poured forth even faster than the agonizing howls before Guiseppe finally left to find a doctor, more concerned about the appearance of having a weak wife than the outcome of the delivery. No one seemed aware of the small form hiding under the table in the hallway listening to his mother fight for her life and the life of this new person he has already vowed to protect from their father.
A new cry joined in just as the mother lost the last of her strength to voice her own. The brooding brow was prominent from the moment he arrived and life would only gift him with more reasons to present it. The maid bundled Stefan in linens and took him out to meet the older brother still reeling from what he had heard. There was no point, they are presumed, in staying with a woman who would soon be a corpse, so there was no one to witness the newest servant girl, too new to have received her vervain amulet. She was easily compelled to travel back and forth to her true employer delivering news of household developments. The swish of a red wool riding cloak as it brushes against a doorway, followed by the heavy clomp of two booted henchmen, is the only sound heard beyond the ticking of the grandfather clock and the tears of Mary’s boys.
“Bring her with us,” Rebekah commanded. “There is still time.”