Bella Rosa

Chapter 1 - Part 1

SARDINIA, ITALY

The Countess sat by the window, contemplating.                                                                                             The manor overlooked vast fields of greenery; gardens of roses, tulips, and flower you could think of – with rows and rows of vegetables adding color to the scene – only the heart of a Italian countryside landscape. To the far left of her view was the Mediterranean Sea – no richer blue could be found anywhere; and the lulling, calming sound of the sea slapping against the shore was comforting. But the Countess Vitoria D’Lyon did not notice these rare beauties, like she did for so many years, but instead looked inside herself.

Why? She asked herself. Why do I feel so uneasy? So alone? So petrified of the future?

She did not want to answer her own questioning. Deep in her subconscious she knew the reason; but she would never bring herself to admit it. She assured herself that no harm would come to her family. Yet, anyway. But she still felt queasy.

Queasy for what, though? She still had one out of two of her children, and two fourths of her granddaughters…..

As she was deep in thought, the door to her bedchambers creaked open and a person entered. Vitoria didn’t noticed until she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Gah!”

“Mistress, it is only me,” her maid, Arianna, said softly. “You did not hear me?”

“No, Arianna,” she said, pulling herself together. “I did not.”

“I am sorry,” her maid flustered. She hurriedly curtsied. “I did not mean to bother Your Majesty, I-“

“Nessun problema.” Vitoria smiled at her. “What would you like?”

Arianna hesitantly smiled back. “Mrs. Antonelli sent me here to inform you that the new maids are waiting in the common room for your approval.”

Vitoria sighed. “Of course.” She got up as Arianna curtsied again.

The Countess, in all truth, was old. A woman of 68 years, she had her white hair pulled back in an elegant bun, making her wrinkles quite visible to anyone who cared to notice. She was having more and more trouble with her arthritis, and she did not hold things quite as strongly. Nevertheless, her eyes were as bright and lively as a teenager’s, not really suiting her face, as they gave no hint of her age. She held her mouth in a determined – with a touch of sadness – pout.

She shuffled to the door and gestured to Arianna. “Lead the way.” The girl bowed her head and led her mistress into the hallway.

They entered the Gallery, the prized room of the D’Lyons. Years of collecting priceless art decorated the richly colored wallpaper. Expertly painted scenes of wars and innocent looking portraits of women peppered the high walls and clashed with the blue marble floor. Towering pillars seemed to hold up the chandeliered dome ceiling and the D’Lyon family crest banners - a lion with sketched flames coming from between the jaws – hung from them royally.

One particular painting, though, stood out from the rest. It was painted by the Countess’s great – great – grandfather, Simeon Patrick D’Lyon, the founder of the Gallery. It was the Countess’s favorite piece among all the other beauties, and she daily came to admire it.

‘Cigno Donna’ depicted a young woman as a swan – with wings spread and her eyes black – taking off in flight in the middle of a pond, surrounded by lotus flowers in the life-like water. She was wearing a roman white robe, giving the impression she was perhaps a goddess; and her milk colored skin suggested European traits. Different animals – such as tigers, zebras, and giraffes – watched the swan girl take off, almost in envy. Around her head were the words, ‘Ordem E Progresso’, commonly known as on the Brazilian flag, clarifying that the scene was indeed painted on Simeon D’Lyon’s trip to Brazil. The Countess would sometimes sit for hours in front of it, absorbing the depth and dimensions of the masterpiece.

But now she did not even glance at it as she hurried after the maid. She had started to feel light-headed and she wanted to get her task over with as soon as possible.

They continued down several hallways until Arianna stopped in front of a pair of double doors. “I will announce your arrival, M’lady,” she whispered to the Countess before she threw open the door and dramatically proclaimed, “Her Majesty has arrived!”

Vitoria proceeded smoothly into the room where two rows of a dozen young ladies stood in uniform, alert and all eyes on the majestic woman in front of them. A plump woman in the front - with her hair struggling to be released from its place in a messy bun – bent low in a flourishing bow and rumbled, “Your Highness.”

Vitoria nodded curtly. “Pamela.” She turned to the girls waiting. “What do we have here?”

“Out of sixty-five girls we picked 24, only them being able to pass the basic requirements. Which of them will actually become part of the service, is up to you, of course,” replied Mrs. Antonelli.

“I see.”

Vitoria examined the girls carefully. For more than thirty years, she has insisted to pick the maids to her liking and she knew exactly what maid was best for the Manor. She started to pace in front of the first row. “You.” She pointed at a red head that unwillingly stepped forward, her hands clammy with sweat. Vitoria reached out a hand and lifted the girls chin, slowly scanning her body structure; then pointed to the left.  “Stand there.”

This procedure went on until the whole front row was gone and she had formed to lines of girls against the wall.

She paused, took a sip of water that a nearby maid offered, then glanced at each and every girl that remained individually. When her eyes reached the last girl, though, she gasped quietly and her hand flew up to her throat.

“M’lady?” Are you okay? Do you need to lie down?” Arianna asked worriedly.

Vitoria waved her off. “No, no.” She walked over to the last girl. “What is your name?”

“Maria. Maria Rosa,” she replied confidently, then hurriedly added, “M’lady,” after a sharp glance from Mrs. Antonelli.