Snapshot Fiction: Preparing to Dance

“Blessed Mary, Mother of Jesus! Anna! I cannot breathe!” Vinca flinched when a wizened hand struck her firmly against the back of her head.

“Do not take the Mother’s name in vain, child!” A few tugs of lacing and Vinca felt the pinch of the bodice loosen its grip from her ribs. “It is because you are more generous of figure than your sister. If you had not spilled wine upon your other dress you would not have to borrow from your sister’s wardrobe. Tch. What are we to do with you child?”

Vinca squeaked one last time as Anna tugged the final lacing into place and knotted it firmly. With a sigh and a shake of her head she stepped away from her aunt and smoothed the heavy brocade skirt and moved to sit in front of the small dressing desk in the room she shared with her sister. “Anna, I did not even wish to go to this gathering. Papá does not need me there. Why do I have to go?”

The older woman threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. “Gracious Father, grant me strength! Vinca, child, it is good for you to attend these affairs to meet the sons of those men of power and money that come to meet your papá. It would be good for you to find another husband. You are still young enough to have children and there is no greater path for a woman than to be married and grace her husband with fine, strong children!”

“You sound like Agneta! OW!” Anna tugged on the braid she was plaiting into Vinca’s dark hair warning her to still her tongue. “It is true,” she muttered, chastised only mildly. “I am no burden. I have my dowry and the few gifts my Simon gave to me. I still mourn him and cannot bear the thought of allowing any other man into my heart.”

“Hmf! It has been nearly a year since the death of your husband and you do not need to allow another in your heart, only your bed!”

“Anna!” Vinca felt her face grow warm and fidgeted with the ribbon trailing from her sleeve to cover her embarrassment at her aunt’s bold statement.

The older woman sighed and shook her head, still carefully braiding Vinca’s thick hair into an elaborate crown. Her voice was low and gentle when she spoke. “Child, you seem to think marriage is about love. You were lucky with your papá’s choice of Simon. It is rare indeed to love the man who shares your wedding bed. It was a sad day for all when he was taken away. You will be into your nineteenth year soon. Nearly too old to find another husband for. You should respect your parents’ wishes and find another. Your father is a star upon the rise in Siena. Now your potential choices are much better.”

“Yes, Aunt. I will consider it.” Vinca grit her teeth around the lie and waited patiently for the ribbons and pearls to be tucked, bound and braided into her hair in the ensuing silence. When Anna proclaimed her properly dressed and coifed she left the room with firm instructions that she not rumple her dress or fuss with her hair lest she foul it. Vinca agreed meekly and remained seated where she was, in no hurry to leave the room.

Moments later the door creaked open and Fina crept in wearing a gown more elaborate than the borrowed one her older sister wore. Curls so dark a shade of brown they looked black in the dim light tumbled around her face from a mass of twined braids that looked like something straight out of a fanciful painting. Vinca smiled and reached a hand out to her sister as she rose from her seat.

Fina took it with a smile and did a quick sweeping glance over the blue brocade firmly hugging Vinca’s ample frame. “It is a little snug.”

A crooked smile set both young women to giggling. Fina pointed at the cleavage peeking from beneath the pearled edge of Vinca’s camicia. “At least you won’t have to worry about making effort to hold anyone’s attention.”

“I don’t want any attention,” Vinca stated emphatically with a disgusted sigh and dropped her hands against the folds of her skirt. “I would much prefer to stay home, sequestered in our room, with a book or a paint brush!”

“Yes,” Fina sat upon the edge of the bed and drew a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at suddenly moist eyes. “Agneta reminded me yet again of my duty as a woman.”

Vinca sat on the bed next to her sister and wrapped her arms around her, cradling her gently. “Oh, sweet Fina. I know how hurt you were when your engagement to Lorenzo was broken. I understand how full your heart was for him and how eager you were to be wed. I do not believe it was Lorenzo’s decision but instead his father’s and I also do not believe it had anything to do with you. I believe his father has his eyes on Benvenuta de Parma’s dowry! Come now, dry your eyes or Agneta will fuss about them being reddened and puffy and make you pack them with vegetables. We will go to this gathering and dance, you and I, and have nothing to do with the fellows they parade before us. We will smile and sip wine and pretend no others in the world exist and leave behind our sorrows for one evening.”

Fina wiped her eyes and offered a forced smile to her sister who accepted it with a kiss on her cheek. “That is better. Come now, let us be off before Agneta comes searching for us. If you are especially gracious I will tell you the story about what Mistress Anthonia wears beneath her overskirt!”

Fina gasped and tugged excitedly at her sister’s sleeve as they left the room. “What? You must tell me. Is it scandalous?”

The door closed behind them muffling their hurried whispers as they moved through the casa.