Chapter Text
It was a sunny day of late September of 1821. Victoria Escalante, the pueblo's innkeeper, had spent the last couple of days touring the nearby haciendas in search of good wine and was now enjoying some rest, which, in her mind, meant busying herself in the tavern.
She had been in a melancholic mood since a childhood friend of her, called Elena, had come for a visit. They had known each other since they were children, but had not met in over a decade at that point. Elena was travelling to Mexico City with her husband and their children, which, as Victoria noticed just for herself, had become her friend's only topic of conversation. Well, that, and the shock caused by the innkeeper's unmarried state.
Indeed, after finishing recounting all her children did since they were born until that very morning, the young woman focused on Victoria, spending almost a full hour dedicating herself to convincing the innkeeper that she should have been married since their late teens. For, in her mind, it was a woman's natural duty to take care of a husband, a household, and to raise children.
Elena had four, having lost one just a few days after his birth, but was content that at least four of her children were healthy. All her time was spent taking care of the little rascals and making sure her husband, who was some 10 years older than her, was well fed and had clean clothes. In exchange, he made sure to bring her enough money for food and even jewelry on occasion, repaired the house whenever it was necessary, and even bought a beautifully-ornate bed made by a renowned woodcarver in San Francisco. She had everything a woman wanted, so she pitied Victoria and her situation. After all, how was it possible that a pretty woman like the young Escalante, who was educated, owned her business, and knew several unmarried men, including dons, could not convince any of them to ask for her hand in marriage?
The innkeeper didn't bother trying to explain to her that her heart belonged to masked outlaw who had spent the last decade, since she was 18, protecting the people of Los Angeles from the injustices of the powerful and the violence practiced by the bandits plaguing the territory. It was becoming harder and harder for people in the pueblo, who had known her for her entire life, to understand her choices. How could she ask that of a person who was, by that point, almost a complete stranger to her?
Elena and her family continued their journey south a day later, and Victoria hoped they would not meet again; at least, not until she finally married Zorro. However, some of the words her friend had uttered remained with her, spinning in her mind, and mixing with her own thoughts. For there was some truth in all she had said; some point to it.
Victoria was almost 28, unmarried and without any children of her own. She had friends, good friends, who had families, and whose children caused her to regret, at times, that she wasn't yet a mother. Though, in all fairness, she also enjoyed the freedom she had as an unmarried woman. In truth, she couldn't even imagine her life different in any way. Even when she dreamt of finally marrying the unmasked Zorro, in her mind, they'd be living in her tavern, serving her patrons, and sharing meals with her friends. The only slight difference she imagined, compared to the way she lived, was that he would finally be a constant presence in her life, and they'd be able to confess their love for each other out in the open.
"Are you certain it was don Diego? He's not usually up that early." The words of a young señorita caught Victoria's attention, distracting her from her daily musings.
"I am quite certain. Felipe was there, as well." The maid accompanying her replied.
"Felipe? Then it must have been him. Don Diego's shadow is wherever don Diego is…" The conversation continued.
"Not shadow… Son! Remember? He adopted him."
"Oh, right… The tragedy!"
"It was for me…" The maid replied, sadness clear in her voice.
"Why? It's not like you had a chance with him before!"
"Sure, I did. It was just a matter of time… But now…"
"Stop whining and continue your story!" Her mistress encouraged her. "You said you saw don Diego, and he was fully naked?" That question increased Victoria's interest for the conversation, and she made sure to find something to do near the table the newcomers had chosen to sit at.
"They both were… At least I think so… I was about 70 feet away, and the sun was shining… And I only saw them from behind, for a few seconds… It wasn't proper of me to look any longer than that."
"Of course not! And you say he was attractive?"
"Felipe?"
"No! Don Diego!"
"Oh, yes! He looked like the men sculpted by the Ancient Greek… the ones in your art books."
"Really?"
The servant nodded. "He is far more muscular than I had ever imagined… Not that I ever imagined him naked... And… And you should see him swim! He's very fast! Felipe, as well, though he was having quite some trouble keeping up with don Diego."
"Why did he need to keep up with him?"
"Because they were having some sort of competition… I think… Don Diego returned to the shore first, then waited for Felipe. I heard how he encouraged him by saying that he had improved, and that he would soon be just as fast as him… But I don't think so… I never saw anyone swim like that…"
"Really?"
"I swear. I think he must have taken only a couple of minutes to swim across the entire lake and come back to where he had started. I didn't even know that was possible."
"Me neither… And then, what happened?"
"Then they got out, got dressed, and rode off…"
"Wait… But you said you only looked at them for a few seconds…"
"Well… it might have been a little longer than seconds… But it was not longer than proper…"
"Of course, not!" The señorita exclaimed with a laughter, and they both chuckled before becoming serious. "My father has been encouraging me to ingratiate myself to don Diego for ages… But I don't want a husband who just reads and paints all day… Not to mention that he's quite old…"
Victoria involuntarily frowned at glancing at the black-haired señorita, who had recently turned 19. She was younger, for sure, but that didn't mean Diego was old. If so, that meant that Victoria, herself, who was just four years his younger, was old, or approaching old age, which certainly wasn't the case… yet.
"For me, I mean." The young woman explained.
The servant nodded, so her mistress continued. "However, he is still young… enough…"
"Thirty-two is not that old…"
"Right. And… husbands should be older than their wives.
"He's also very wealthy, so he could offer you a good life…"
"Yes. And he is rather handsome…"
"He is very attractive! One of the handsomest men I've ever seen…"
"… and, if what you say it's true, he also looks good without his clothes…" the señorita she said that in a whispered tone, clearly blushing.
"He does, I swear! The way the sun glimmers on his skin when he swims… and those muscles of his…"
"Stop that!" The señorita admonished at seeing the other woman's expression. "You're drawling over my possible future husband!"
"You'd surely be lucky to marry him… And I would, at least, get to see Felipe every day… Maybe you could put a good word for me…"
"We'll see about that… Meanwhile, I need a way to get don Diego's attention." As soon as she said that, the young woman looked around, and seemed to only then notice Victoria. She first turned red, realizing they might have easily been overheard by the innkeeper, then swallowed her embarrassment, and asked the innkeeper to come to their table, which she did. "Señorita Escalante," the aspiring doña de la Vega asked, "you and don Diego are friends, are you not?"
"Of course, we are. We've known each other since we were children," Victoria replied.
"And… do you know, by any chance, what kind of women he likes?"
The innkeeper was dumbfounded for a moment. "Blondes…" She eventually answered, rather coldly, then headed for the kitchen.
Victoria wasn't sure why that question had vexed her so much. It wasn't like she had any feelings for her best friend. Was it? Strangely enough, while listening to the maid describing Diego to her mistress, she imagined him, as well, naked, his arm muscles contracting and relaxing as he swam, his black hair getting stuck to his head, causing him to look more like a wildling and less like the don he was.
Shaking her head in an effort to stop those images from roaming freely through her mind, she checked the chicken she had put in the oven a while earlier. It was still far from done, so she added some more wood to the fire. Then, when she heard the two young women leaving the tavern, she exited to check if anyone needed anything from the bar, before allowing her mind to return to her other musings about her unmarried state.
She was dusting wine bottles while remembering Zorro's proposal, when a young don, who had recently returned from Spain, greeted her at coming through the door.
"Buenos dias, señorita Escalante," he said, and she smiled at him. "I brought you something," he added, offering her a book.
She left the bottle on the counter, and neared him curiously, her eyes resting on the cover. For a few moments she wasn't sure what she was looking at.
"What is this don Antonio? El Zorro?" She uttered, reading the book's name.
"Yes. It's the most sought-after book in Madrid nowadays. The editor already published three editions. People there are utterly fascinated with our masked hero." He explained.
"Really? And what does the book say about him?" She asked, curious.
"You mean, does it reveal anything about the man behind the mask?" He guessed the meaning of her words.
Victoria nodded expectantly.
"No…" He answered somewhat disappointed. "The author, Sebastian Moreno, says in the book that he had met Zorro both with and without the mask, but he does not reveal his identity. Though, people in Madrid are certain he knows. Even the king tried to have him reveal that secret. He went so far as to order him thrown in jail, and threaten him with torture. But Moreno never said a word, and the king did free him a few days later, even so. People were already protesting the arrest, and, I guess he was in no mood for riots."
"Señor Moreno wrote that book? But I know him. Yes… He came here some eight or nine years ago, asking about Zorro. Yet he left without knowing who Zorro was. He said he did, but then confessed it was all just a ruse..."
"That might be so but, from the way he speaks about him in the book, I tend to think he left the pueblo certain that he knew who Zorro was." Her interlocutor replied.
"Who was certain to know who Zorro was?" Alcalde de Soto asked after overhearing the end of their conversation at coming to have his lunch.
Both younger people looked at him in surprise.
"A Spanish writer, alcalde." The young man said. "A certain señor Moreno."
"And he wrote it down?" De Soto inquired, noticing the title of the book don Armando was holding.
"Not exactly…" the young man said.
"I'll confiscate that book to make certain." Ignacio suddenly decided, not giving the young man a chance to oppose him. Turning on his heel, the book in his hand, he started for his office, on the way instructing Mendoza to get him his lunch.
Victoria looked worriedly at the white-haired man crossing the plaza, then her attention returned to the young don.
"It's a shame, Señorita." He said. "You would have liked the book. But don't worry! He won't find out what he hopes to find out. Moreno only mentions that Zorro is a very intelligent and educated man, willing to risk his life in pursuit of justice and to defend the weak and the helpless. Nothing we didn't know already."
She smiled and nodded, so he turned on his heel, set on heading for a table. "Oh," he uttered, at remembering a small detail he had also found in the book, "it does say one thing that still has me scratching my head." He uttered as he turned again towards her. "That the man who is Zorro wears his true mask when not wearing a mask at all. I am still trying to understand what that means."
Victoria nodded her gratitude for that information, then, as she went to see about the food cooking in the kitchen, she began wondering about that idea. "He wears his true mask when not wearing a mask." She uttered just for herself as she was stirring the stew she had on the fire. "Does that mean that he wears two masks? Then, that means that… it means…"
Shaking her head, she tasted the stew, and, satisfied, she took the pot off the fire, leaving it on the table as she began pouring it into plates for her patrons.
"He wears his true mask when not wearing one…" the thought again returned to her mind. "So… When not wearing a mask he doesn't behave like his true self. He… pretends to be… different somehow…" She concluded.
Putting that thought aside, she placed three plates on a tray, and took them to the taproom.
When she returned, she washed some rice to boil and, when that was done, with no one in the taproom requesting service, she allowed herself a few minutes' rest, her thoughts again returning to Zorro.
"Of course, he doesn't behave like himself when not wearing a mask," she muttered. "It would be a dead giveaway." With that conclusion, the idea came to her that, since her masked novio had managed to avoid being discovered for almost a decade he had spent a decade hiding his true self behind a mask, and behaving like a different person whenever not wearing one.
As that realization dawned on her, Victoria suddenly felt sad for him. She had always seen Zorro as a larger-than-life hero, always defying authority, and standing up for others. But, if he only had the freedom to be who he truly was when calling himself the fox - an idea that had, for some reason never before even crossed her mind – that mean that, when using his true name, he had to pretend to be a very different person than he truly was.
"He can't hide everything…" she muttered, taking some time to let her mind wonder. "Zorro is tall, so the real man is also tall. Black-haired. His eyes are blue. He is strong – that punch of his send the lancers straight into the dream world… And he is smart and well educated. Very well educated to be able to come up with all those tricks… Applied chemistry…" She considered, thinking back at the time she had spent in his hideout. "But who could he be?"
"Hola, Victoria!" Diego greeted as he entered her kitchen.
"Don Diego! Is there something I can do for you?" She asked, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"I was just wondering what you have for lunch."
"Oh… I just made some stew. But my chicken is also almost ready and the rice will be ready soon…"
"I will wait, then… no offense to your stew, which I am sure is quite delicious."
"None taken!" She said with a smile. "One plate of arroz con pollo then?"
"Two. I am treating the sergeant to lunch." Diego replied with a smile, and turned around to exit.
"And Felipe? He's not with you?" Victoria inquired, causing him to stop in his tracks.
"No." He answered. "He accompanied my father to mend some fences this morning and they had not returned by the time I left the hacienda."
"Very well, don Diego. I will bring the food when it's ready." She assured him with a smile.
Through the slightly parted drapes separating the kitchen from the taproom, Victoria saw the tall caballero as he greeted some of the men there, then sat at Mendoza's table. "There are several dons who enjoy his company, yet he never sits with them when Mendoza is here…" She considered. "I wonder if…" she didn't quite finish that thought before shaking her head, and smiling at her silliness.
Emptying her mind of all thought of Zorro for a while, she dedicated herself to preparing the plates for Diego and the sergeant, then, holding the tray with the plates, a jar of lemonade, and a couple of glasses, she headed for the table that the two men were sharing.
"Gracias, Victoria," the young don uttered when she placed the plate in front of him. "This smells delicious."
"I hope you like it, Diego." She said, placing the other plate in front of Mendoza, then slowly pouring the lemonade in the two glasses she had brought with her.
"… So I don't think the alcalde will be leaving his office for a few days…" the lancer continued the conversation they had clearly started before Victoria came with the food. "It will take him a while to finish the book on Zorro he confiscated a while earlier. He is certain he can find some clue there about who he is."
Victoria glanced at Diego at hearing that, noticing his mischievous smile, one she had only noticed on him a couple of times before.
"Really? And you say Sebastian Moreno wrote the book?" Diego inquired.
"Yes. You remember him, don't you, don Diego? He spent most of his time here with you, if I remember right, interviewing the people Zorro had helped…"
"Indeed… But how do you know that, Sergeant?"
"Well… I noticed it… I do notice things…" the man replied, and Victoria had the feeling that he was feeling guilty about something.
She finished pouring the lemonade and decided to leave their table, seeing how just staying there didn't seem proper to do. She left, however, at a slow enough pace to hear the caballero ask "And are you certain, Sergeant? That Ignacio is not in his office writing a new taxation law, I mean?"
"No, don Diego, trust me! He thinks he can find out who Zorro is by reading that book. So, he'll probably read it a few times to make sure he didn't miss any clue, and only then come up with a new tax..."
Smiling at the man's remark, the innkeeper spent the next couple of hours serving clients and washing plates and glasses, hardly finding any more time to think about Zorro. Diego had long since headed for the newspaper's office when don Alejandro and Felipe arrived, just before siesta, asking if there was any food left.
"There's nothing left," Victoria said, truly sorry to give them bad news. "But… Maybe I can make something fast for you… How about hot polenta with cheese?"
"That sounds quite delicious, my dear. But… If you were about to close…"
"That's alright, don Alejandro. I didn't have lunch yet, either, and I would much enjoy your company." She replied considering sharing her thoughts with the old man.
He nodded appreciatively, and invited Felipe to sit down before doing the same.
Victoria closed the tavern's main door, then headed for the kitchen where she spent the next twenty minutes cooking the polenta. When it was done, she added the cheese and took the three plates to the taproom, before returning to get some glasses and the fresh orange juice she had also made while the polenta was boiling.
"Gracias, my dear," don Alejandro said as she poured the juice before sitting next to Felipe.
Victoria just nodded and smiled.
"I think we have to wait for it to get a bit colder, Felipe," don Alejandro said at noticing that the young man was considering eating.
"Yes, that would be best." Victoria agreed, taking a sip of the orange juice. The men did the same.
"Was my son here, today, by any chance?" the don inquired.
"Yes. He had lunch with Sergeant Mendoza," Victoria replied.
"Then he did wake up, eventually! Good..."
"What do you mean?" She wondered.
"Well… Last night he said he'd stay up late… Probably for his experiments. He was still asleep when we left in the morning, and we didn't leave very early, either… Isn't it right, Felipe?"
The young man nodded, and cautiously began to eat.
"Oh?" Victoria muttered, remembering the conversation she had overheard earlier. "So, he didn't go for a swim this morning with Felipe?"
The young man almost chocked, and don Alejandro had to pat his back to help him out. "Surely not! My son hardly ever swims. I'm sure he knows how, but he doesn't like cold water…" the older man proceeded to explain to her utter surprise.
Something seemed wrong to Victoria, but she wasn't sure why and what, so she preferred to change the subject.
"Oh! By the way, you know, don Antonio?" She asked.
"Don Jorge's son? Who just returned from Spain?"
"Yes. Him!"
"Of course, I know him, my dear."
"Well, today, he came to bring me a book. It's called "El Zorro" and he brought it over from Spain. Sebastian Moreno wrote it, remember him? Well, he was kind enough to offer to lend it to me, but the alcalde came right at that moment and confiscate it."
"That man never changes…" don Alejandro said with a defeated shake of his head. "But, if you want to read that book, I'm sure Diego wouldn't object to lend you his copy…"
"Diego has a copy of the book señor Moreno wrote about Zorro?"
"Yes." Don Alejandro said. "Sebastian sent him a first edition about a year ago. He even signed it, and included a short dedication: To don Diego de la Vega, without who this book wouldn't exist.
"My son did help him interview the people Zorro had helped, and I am sure he was quite glad to see that his efforts were not in vain. Most of the injustices those people were subjected to, and the circumstances that allowed for said injustices are harshly criticized in the book."
"I see… And you say Diego has had the book for over a year now?"
"Yes. I believe it's been that long… Felipe, can you remember when we received it?"
The boy signed that he didn't and continued eating.
Victoria took a moment to think before saying "in that case, if the alcalde doesn't return to me the copy don Antonio brought me, I will ask Diego for it."
"I'm sure he will be happy to offer it to you. My son only read it once when he first got it, then left it on a shelf and didn't touch it again."
"You didn't read it, then?"
"Of course, I did. Felipe, too. We were too curious not to have done so."
"And?"
"It's rather well-written… though a bit dry for my taste… Interesting, for sure… But it really doesn't say anything new, and it certainly doesn't give any clue about who Zorro might be. Which is to be expected, considering Sebastian never actually found out."
"Are you sure of that, don Alejandro?"
"That he doesn't know? Quite sure. Even in his book, he admits that it's impossible to find out who Zorro is."
"He does?"
"Yes… Well, in different words, of course. He says that Zorro wears another mask when in public or something like that. That is obviously an admission that he has not discovered his identity." The don explained, just before finishing his meal. "Victoria, this was just what we needed. Thank you, my dear. And now, Felipe, we should get home for siesta. Señorita…"
With that, both men stood up. "Let's pass by the newspaper office to see if Diego is there," don Alejandro said as she followed them towards the door, set to bolt it. On the way, Victoria's attention was drawn to a couple of glasses left on the bar, and she headed for them, instead, then cleaned the table. When she finally did go to bolt the main door, don Alejandro and Felipe were returning to their horses.
"You know, when my son was your age, he was saving boys from the river and calves from quicksand." She heard the elderly caballero tell Felipe as they untied the horses. "But then he left for Spain and it's like someone else returned in his place. All he does now is write, paint, sleep and waist his time with those experiments of his. When I went to the military academy, chemistry was not even a subject they taught…"
She didn't hear anything else as they were too far away at that point, but it was enough to give her plenty of food for thought.
Diego had clearly pretended earlier, during his talk with Mendoza, that he didn't know about Moreno's book. Not only that, but he did it in such a way that Victoria, who always thought herself wise enough to easily recognize another's deception, had no idea he was lying. She surely wouldn't have known had don Alejandro not told her about the book. And, on the subject of the book, how come Diego didn't even ask her if she wanted to read it?
But what really troubled her were the words she had overheard the elderly don say to Felipe before their departure. They troubled her because they were right, and they had been a constant complaint of his whenever discussing his son. Diego de la Vega who had left California, some 14 years earlier, was not the same as the one who had returned. In fact, the one who had left, had more in common with…
"I wonder…" Victoria thought as soon as that idea came to her. "Is it possible that Diego might be Zorro? No, it can't be him… Diego… Zorro… He's nothing like Zorro… Besides, Zorro is in love with me. I know he is. If Diego was Zorro, then that would mean that he is in love with me… And Diego is not… I mean… He never acted as if he were… But if Zorro doesn't act like himself in public, then he would not act like a man in love, either…" She considered while finishing the dishes. "Good God! I am gonna' go mad!" She uttered out loud moments later, wiping her hands and heading for her room, set on getting some sleep.
She lay on the bed, yet the idea kept bothering her. What if Diego was Zorro? He was tall enough to be him; educated enough and the sort of man who was always on the side of the weak, whether by using his medical skills or legal knowledge; even as a journalist, he tried to help the oppressed and reveal the truth to people. Just like Zorro, alas in a different way. Yet, something was still amiss.
Diego didn't have any true passion. For anything… Or did he? Thinking back, she realized that he could be passionate when he wanted to. Like that time with the Royal Emissary they went to see in Santa Paula. Remembering that day, the young woman's thoughts soon directed themselves towards the night she had spent with Diego in the windmill. The way he looked at her when he had given her his jacket and helped her get warm was not the look of a best friend. For a moment, she had even thought he was about to kiss her.
He didn't. Yet, remembering it all, Victoria wondered whether he would have, had she not prevented him. Was it possible that the unromantic Diego de la Vega, who'd spent years avoiding all attempts by his father to get him married, running away from trouble, and dedicating himself to painting and writing poetry, was only a mask? Zorro's mask?
During that night in the mill, she and Diego had discussed poetry. The very next day, Zorro almost quoted those same words. Were they a clue? Had he tried to help her realize who he was? She had dismissed that idea at the time, but, now, she was starting to wonder whether she had been wrong to do so.
ZZZ
That night, after she closed the tavern and was about to head upstairs, Victoria exited her kitchen to find Zorro waiting for her by the bar.
"Good evening!" He greeted her.
"Zorro!" She uttered with a smile, heading to embrace him. She felt safe in his arms; safe and loved. She had no doubt about the masked man's feelings for her, no matter who he was. "Is there something wrong?" She suddenly asked.
"Wrong?"
"In the pueblo… Why else would you have risked coming here?"
"Well," he said with a smile, "actually, I came for this," lowering his glance from her eyes towards her lips, he bowed to kiss her, and she eagerly responded to his kiss, when a though came to her. The thought that, by kissing Zorro she was, perhaps, kissing her best friend. That caused her to take a step back in order to have a better look at him.
"That horrible mask! I can't tell…" She concluded just for herself after a rather long time spent staring at the man she loved.
"Are you alright, Victoria?" He asked, baffled by her behavior.
"Who are you, Zorro?" She couldn't stop herself from asking him.
He bowed his head, then turned around. "You can't even imagine how much I wish I could tell you", he said. "But I can't, my love… Not yet."
Victoria took a moment to think. "Then why did you ask for my hand in marriage? You can't marry me, and I can't marry a man who won't even tell me his name…"
"If I told you my name, you would be in danger."
"I already am in danger… Constantly! I run a tavern. I had bandits threatening my life and robbing me, trying to hurt me… even to force themselves on me. I was thrown in jail more times than I remember… How am I safe without you?" She asked. "Why don't you trust me enough to reveal to me who you truly are?"
"I do trust you. I know you would never betray me, Victoria… not willingly. But you might make a mistake. Call me by my real name to warn me about some danger… Act differently around me when I am here as myself… Trust me! You are far safer than you'd be should I take off this mask before the time is right for me to do so." He replied. "Besides…"
"Besides what?"
"It's not only your life that my secret, once revealed, would endanger… I have other people to think of, as well… If I am ever found out, I will hang, Victoria… And so might the ones I love most in this world. So might you, should the alcalde realize you knew my secret and protected it."
"I don't care! I don't care about my life…"
"But I do!" He replied. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I want you to have a long, happy life, my love. Hopefully, by my side… But I cannot risk… I cannot risk my secret ending up causing you harm."
Victoria saw the pain in his eyes. She understood his torment. And it was right then that it hit her. Whoever the man before her was, he loved her and truly wanted for them to be together. It was why he had given her that ring. Yet, he was wise enough to know that he could not fulfill his promise to her. That ring he had given her was nothing more than a promise of fidelity they had made to one another. A promise that would end up ruining both their lives.
"Wait here!" She suddenly said, heading up the stairs. "I'll be back in a moment."
Entering her room, she searched for the ring he had once given her, then returned and offered it to him.
"I don't understand…" He said, looking at it.
"Take it!"
"Why?" His voice sounded confused.
"I have waited for almost ten years for a chance to marry you. But I am 28 now. I want a family before it's too late for me to have one. You can't marry me. I get that…"
"Ignacio won't be alcalde forever…"
"But there may be other tyrants after him. Who knows when this crusade of yours will end… if ever…"
"It will end… one way or another…" He uttered, not looking at her.
"You can't marry me as Zorro and you can't reveal to me who you really are."
"No…" He admitted, failing to grasp the reason why she was now staring at him as she did.
Shaking her head to gather her thoughts at noticing he was becoming worried, she continued. "But I can't wait forever for you to remove that mask, and it's high time for me to find myself a husband… Maybe, I can find you..."
He didn't seem to understand. "You see," she tried to explain herself better, "it just occurred to me that we might still be together even if you never take off that mask. I can stop waiting for you to do so, and just get married. I can choose someone who might remind me of you… I might never know for certain if it's you I chose… not unless I do choose you and you decide to give me back this ring. If I choose wrong, then we were never truly meant for each other... Either way, we will both be at least as safe as we are now…"
He glanced at her doubtful. "I understand…" he said. "But that means that, should you choose to walk down the aisle with someone else, I can't interfere…"
"No. You can't. For both our sake…"
He shook his head at that.
"You don't seem to agree with my plan…" She realized.
"I just fear it might spell the end for us, and I don't think I can bear losing you…"
She took her hand to his face, letting it rest on his mask. "I don't know how you look like, but my heart knows you… I trust it…"
He rewarded her words with a sad smile. "Alright…" he said. "But you must promise me something."
"Anything!"
"Don't look for the hero you admire in the men who will court you. Look for someone who can make you happy. It's what I most want for you, Victoria…" He said, as he closed the hand in which his mother's ring was.
That was his goodbye to her, for he said no more words. Instead, he gave her one last, desperate kiss that left her breathless. Then, he was gone.
"Please, God, don't let me be wrong about this!" Victoria whispered as she locked the door to her kitchen, then slowly headed upstairs, her mind full of questions and ideas.