[Page 78: 17th hour. Fountain in front of school. Same place. - B.D.C]
Marta blinked and frowned slightly as she thumbed the note, as if making sure that it was written, not typed. She thumbed at the "17th hour" part. 17… Does he mean five in the afternoon?
"You're spacing again." Marta jumped at Camilla's sudden voice. Her friend eyed the book clutched in her arms with furrowed brows. "You've been borrowing this book five times these last three weeks."
Marta merely hummed as she carefully put it in front of her pile of books to borrow.
Benedict kept his word about wanting to get to know her, even if it was mostly through short meetings in borrowed time. Marta had no idea what to feel; her expectations were too confusing even for her. The only thing she knew was that time seemed to flow much faster whenever she met with the young man, while it dragged ever on as she waited.
She knew Camilla had some opinions, but neither of them really voiced any of their thoughts regarding Marta's now-frequent library trips, nor her now-frequent afternoon trips before going home.
"You should stop, Marta."
… Or maybe not.
Marta had never seen her childhood friend with such a serious look on her face. "Marta, this is starting to look more unbecoming for young ladies to act."
"You speak as if I'm doing heinous crimes."
"You are secretly meeting with a young man—who is single, much like you—alone, without anyone's idea! Pray, tell me how this does not make you sound suspicious."
"We are not meeting in secret! Both of us are meeting up in perfectly public spots with many people, including those who are also students in our school, passing us by. Benedict is not some no-good hooligan who is out to take my innocence, nor am I a naive little girl who is easily duped!"
"You were depressed for months when you didn't see him. And don't try to deny it; I know you well enough to tell if you're feeling down. As well as the likely cause of it."
Marta sighed. "It really is not what you think, Camilla. We merely talk about random things as he escorts me home." Though they always took the longer route. "He keeps a respectable distance from me, and the subject of our talks is always harmless."
Her friend just shook her head. "You don't understand. We're graduating in a month's time, Marta. What do you think your mother would do?" Marta's brows furrowed as her gaze moved to the ground. She heard Camilla sigh. "It is now a known fact that Antoine O'nner has been visiting your home almost weekly, and that he'll be asking for your hand soon. Probably sooner if your mother has a say in it."
Despite them being in the library, the silence between them felt too heavy. She heard Camilla sigh again and felt a hand on her arm.
"I know you, Marta. I know that you value propriety and would not dally in disrespectful acts, but I also know how passionate you are, and how you tend to get stubborn when it comes to your emotions. And no, I am not insulting you," Camilla quickly added before the young woman could say anything. "I don't want you to get hurt, love."
"I'm not trying to," Marta quickly rebutted, but even she could tell how defensive she sounded. She shook her head. "I… It's really easy to be with him, Cam. No matter what we talked about, my art, his writings, the books we read, the places we prefer… It's as if he knew how and what I like. He sees me. He listens to me."
"People listen to you, too. I listen to you!"
"We're friends. Of course, you listen to me." Marta huffed. "But there's also the sparks. Every time I am with him, I've never felt more carefree, more alive."
"Now you sound like some character from a novel. This is not some thrilling adventure out in the woods!"
"Listen, I know you're worried, but I want you to trust me more." Marta clutched Camilla's hands in hers. "I am not trying to be reckless, nor am I deliberately setting myself into some doomed eventuality." She sighed as she hugged the book closer to her chest, adjusting her grip more securely. "This feeling… It feels real, Camilla. More real than anything I have ever known in my life. If I let this go without really knowing what it is, if I remained still and let everything pass… I know I'll regret it."
Camilla opened her mouth, but was quick to close it without saying another word. Marta knew what she wanted to say, though: I trust you, but I'm still not that convinced . She'll take what she can get.
She took a left turn from the main pathway leading to the main gates and followed the stoned pathway following the school wall. The path was almost overgrown with weeds; the hedges, though still trimmed, were shaped differently from those at the front of the school. The rooms and buildings were also more worn by time, but were still sturdy; a popular place for any student practicing any extracurricular activities. She found herself waving at a pair of students passing by her, both carrying boxes of what looked like colored confetti.
There was a white marble fountain at the center of the area, covered in vines and cracks. She found Benedict sitting by the edge, clutching what looked like a letter too tightly. He noticed her walking close and quickly tucked the letter into one of his books.
"Marta! You found my note! I was already running late when I stopped by the library, so I was worried if I was in the right row."
"You did get it right," Benedict replied, pointing at the book in her arms.
Marta tilted her head to the side, eyes on his books. "Can I ask what it was?"
"Oh, uh—" he pushed his books more securely on the fountain's ledge. "A letter from home. It seems like my brother's about to return to service. Our mother was worried that he might not be well enough to go back. You can't just decline an order from your superior, however, so my brother had no choice but to obey."
"That is a little worrying." Marta took a seat beside him, with around half an arm's length, she surmised. "Has the situation become that precarious?"
"… Could be."
He seemed to be more fidgety today.
"Don't worry. Your brother will be okay." She hoped that she was giving him an encouraging smile; somehow, giving encouragement to a boy felt more different and awkward than with Camilla. "Both my father and brother assured us that the matter did not look like it would escalate further, so I believe there's nothing to be worried about for now."
"Hopefully," he sighed heavily, the silence comfortable for a minute or two before he gave her a charming smile. "Thank you," he said to her in a whisper.
Marta was slowly learning more about this man the more they met together. His shoulders would relax just a little more each meeting, his voice would sound more exuberant, and his smile, though smaller, was now softer. Every little bit stokes the warm feeling nestled in her chest.
"Camilla thought we were having a secret relationship." She covered her mouth with her hand as soon as the words left her. "Um—" She was starting to feel hot at the wide-eyed look in Benedict's face. "I mean— I don't mean to sound like we're doing something scandalous! She's just, um—I told her there's nothing to worry, that we are not like that, and—" Maybe she should just keep her mouth shut; the words were more like wind-blown leaves scattered in her head.
Benedict snorted, which made Marta snap her lips shut, face still feeling warm. "I hope she's not giving you a hard time about it," he said to her, his voice sounding amused. Marta pouted and mildly swatted him by the arm, making him laugh more. Her own smile was difficult to temper down even as she shook her head. "It was not. She just tends to notice things more than others. I trust her, though." She leaned a bit to cast her gaze at the late afternoon sky. "She worries. Often too much, but I know it is coming from a place of caring."
Silence lapsed between them as Benedict gazed up, as well. Idly, Marta thought she could sleep from where she sat, the wind feeling like a cool caress on her face.
"Would it be bad, then?"
"Hmm?" Marta blinked back to consciousness and gazed at Benedict. His gaze remained at the sky, but his expression was serious. His shoulders were pulled a little tighter towards him, and his fingers drummed mindlessly on his thigh. Marta tilted her head. "Bad?"
"To have something." When he looked at her, it was with that small, soft smile. "Just between us. See where it will take us. Do you… think it will be a bad idea?"
When the words registered, Marta's heart felt like it would jump out of her chest and block the air from her lungs as she felt hotter than earlier. She hastily looked away, her thoughts refusing to settle down under his gaze.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to make things awkward and complicated. I understand that you'll have more things to lose."
Marta can do nothing but play with her own fingers, feeling the truth of his words settling on her shoulders. Graduation is right around the corner, and soon, she'll have to face the plans her family has for her. It's already laid out; she'll just have to follow. Secured. Free of worry. Conformed. Expected.
It's suffocating.
"I don't know." It was the most honest answer she could give.
Benedict's smile changed, but the way he looked at her softly remained the same. The entire hour was spent with nothing but silence, the same as when Benedict escorted her back to her home. Marta couldn't help but feel cold. She wasn't sure if it was because of the time of day.
Benedict turned to her, but any words he would have spoken died as he huffed with a smile on his face. "Here. Before you forgot."
Marta blinked as she received the familiar book. Benedict then quickly turned and gave a short wave as he walked back on the street.
One of the pages was folded up awkwardly, and so Marta opened the book. The words penned at the top of the page made her stop, the cold feeling slowly receding.
[Page 79: 17th hour. Fountain in front of school. Still at the same place. I'll be waiting. - B.D.C]