Summer, 1792

I remember it well. I was 10. My brothers were 13 and 14. We lived in the countryside in the summer months. Father was in London helping the sick, and mother watched us in the country home. My brothers and I swam in the lake since we were small. We couldn't afford swimwear like the socialites in London, we were family after all. We swam nude. I remember this part well. My one brother and I were up on the biggest stone, he jumped first watching his feet hit the water first. It was my turn. I squatted to my knees sucking a gulp of air in ready to let my feet leap off the stone. My heels were in the air when a force grabbed hold of my arm. "No, you won't! You are a lady! You will act like one! Young ladies do not do such things as this!" My mother's Italian accent was thick in her anger as dragged my naked pre-pubescent body from the lake into our summer home.

Present Day, November 4th, 1799

My brothers are off to study abroad. Father and I left England so I could be safe from the black death. My father is a doctor. He helped London combat the sickness until it took my mother a year ago. He hasn't been the same. No one is the same. It starts as a simple cold. I and my brothers were distanced away from my mother when she first got the sickness. The last time I saw her was in our London home. Fever, headache, chills, and she was weak. The next, my father wrote that the plague has overtaken her. She developed black sores and died within two days. She was a strong woman. She came to England from Italy as she was betrothed to my father arranged by my grandfathers. We left our lavish home near the castle. I'd awake every morning to see the castle's shadow within the distance.

God, why can't I live in a castle?

"Bella! Hold the reins! I must look at this map. We must have missed our turn." My father is an intelligent man, though, reading maps was his weakness.

"No, no father. You hold the reins. Your eyes aren't what they used to be. Allow me." I swiped the map away from his grasp reading the lines we were travelling on. "But father, we are well on our way. We haven't missed our turn, it's up on this road here." I point out, my long white sleeves flying in the breeze. We'd been travelling for what felt like an eternity, more or less it was 2 days. We have eaten all of our food so I am hoping we are greeted with fruit or bread at least. If I'm famished then I know my father is worse. "I thank god every day you have your mother's beauty and my brains!"

"And I am grateful you allowed me to study with my brothers. Knowing how to read is far more entertaining than learning how to sew." I nudged his arm as he held onto the reins with a forceful hand. "It's all fun and games Bella until your future husband needs new socks. Then where you be? You must be a scholar and a lady. I promised your mother on her death bed you would be taught in the same." Pfft! Consequently, you can tell I'm not fond of being a proper wife. I cannot explain my feelings about marriage. It's sinful. I bear too many sins that a priest cannot fix. I feel no attraction to men. Nor do I want to be around one who fancies me. Women do not want to be around me. Father says it's because my beauty intimates them, even though they are far more beautiful than I. I think they think I'm odd. As though something is wrong with teaching a girl to read or write. As they are taught to sit up straight and breathe with 10 corsets on. I never enjoyed going to court, but if my father is summoned by the king himself then we must attend. Ladies in court wore skirts that could fit my brothers underneath. It was absurd.

"Time will tell father. I'm young, I have no desire to marry at this time." The sun beats down on us and our horses. My dark hair heated my head. The rest of my body was cool in a white dress. It still felt like the summer months, but it was fall. My hunger was getting the better of me, I felt as if I couldn't breathe under my corset. Every little stitch of the flowers on my corset stuck out. "My child, you are almost 18. Any older and you will be a spinster. I would be heartbroken if you would turn this way. You've said that since you came of age to wed. Please, keep an open mind about Transylvania Bella Donna. You may find a respectable man to marry." Man? No, and what if that is the life I desire? To live alone in the countryside with a furry companion by my side. To live near a lake to soak my feet and read one of my father's books. He has enough of them. He won't miss them.

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Mediaș is a quiet little village, surrounded by mountains. Our cart got off a road leading into the village. Little children played in the tall grass as we approached the village sign. All running along to the families. The townspeople were out of their homes. Either commuting or off to the centre square where it looked like there was a market. These people have never seen outsiders before. They all stared at my father and me. We halted before the square. My father's practice was being painted on the wooden overhang of a red brick home. "Is this where will we live father?" I hopped down, my legs were light. Almost forgot how to walk until I retrieved my balance. Restlessness. That's what I read about. An anomaly in which if you don't use your legs for a long period, they will become restless.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Good day, good sir and my lady. Welcome to Mediaș! Are you passing through here long?" A man who looked familiar but I'd never seen greeted us. He was a fuller man, in his face and his stomach. Jolly, you would say, with a white beard. "I'm Joesph! Everyone calls me Joe. I own the tavern down the road." He reached out his plump hand to my father. They both shook as my father smiled. "Abe. I'm the new doctor your mayor requested. This is my daughter Bella Donna." I was so used to curtsying to the noblemen that it came without thinking. "Good day Mr. Joe."

"My, my! A beauty and a lady. The Lord has truly blessed you, good doctor." I observed my father watching me. A sparkle gleamed in his eye. "I am truly grateful. The Lord has given me three sons as well, they are off studying abroad in the field of medicine."

"What about Bella? Do you miss your brothers? A young woman like yourself should be married by now! Can't let her go, Abe? Haha!" Joe nudged my father taking me in. "Oh no, um...no one was good enough for my daughter in England. I want to find her a good husband."

"You do that and I'll find you a good mortuary." I chuckled feeling no one else was laughing. "I'm hungry, you must be to father. Won't you excuse us, Mr. Joe." I pulled on my father's coat guiding him to the market. "Why must you say no one is good enough for me? I've told you for years. I am not fit to marry!"

"Bella! No one is ready! But it is a task every woman must do. You cannot run from it!"

Can't I? Must I succumb to a life destined to redundant house tasks? To serve a man? To serve a man who doesn't acknowledge my existence? Only to serve hand and foot. To bare dozens of children that will likely do the same? To be seen and not heard?

No. No, I mustn't. I will not. I will die before I serve a man who thinks I am lesser than him. The sin of pride is the only sin I will hold on to.

"I do wish to run from it father. I will not be treated as an object. If I wish to marry. I want to be their equal. Their intellectual. Not someone to wash their shoes for the rest of my life." I forgot my shoes in the cart, finding my feet burnt on the cobblestones underneath the balls of my feet. "Forget it, look! I didn't know it was the season of peaches." I stepped from a cart of tomatoes to the cart full of red and orange fruit. All plumb in their way. The two I chose were full on the top of the peach near the steam. One was redder than the other. I think the red ones are sweeter. That one is mine. My father paid two shillings to the tender. "We will not just forget Bella. Maybe after you have eaten you will come to your senses." My father bit into the peach chewing roughly. I wanted to treasure my fruit. I often felt uncomfortable eating in public. After all that I'd seen in London during the black death, I refused to let anyone near my food. I will wait until we get settled in our home.

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My father and I moved into our new home shortly after speaking to the few townspeople who spoke English. My father spoke to business owners, and I spoke to elderly women. They all say the same. 'How beautiful. You are a beauty. No husband? Such shame for a woman of your beauty.' In every language, in any town. Men and women alike say the same. That I am a beauty, though, once I open my mouth it's like I spoke another language. My father says I look like my mother, but act like him.

My father set up his doctor's office. He and I wear handkerchiefs with a cotton lining underneath to touch our noses and mouth. It was to protect ourselves from harmful bacteria found in contaminated blood and spores from the black death. In London, they all made fun of my father and me. We would walk down the streets of London going to court to meet with the high priest. Sadly, all the on-lookers who laughed were piled in the streets within days.

"Bella, hand me the bottle of Opium. This gentleman is dealing with sleeping issues. We must treat immediately." My father had his first patient. An older gentleman complained about not having a full rest at night. He thought he was plagued by demons. My father reassured him that he was dealing with insomnia. A sleep condition that affects you getting a full rest of sleep. "Yes, father." I turned my feet on the wood dragging my heels to him.

"Y-you taught your daughter to read Doctor?" He shook as the word spilled out of his mouth.

"Yes sir, I believe every child no matter man or woman deserves an education. Besides, I needed help in my line of work after my sons left. So it paid off." I handed my father the vile labelled Opium. The old man still gawked his eyes. "Good day sir, don't you worry. You're in good hands. My father was at the top of his class. By the new year, you will be better." I braided my hair just so I may not contaminate any of my father's studies as well. I came in like a church mouse and disappeared as one too. I stepped out of his office down a narrow hallway, his room was to left. The lavatories were to the right. My room was in the middle at the end of the hall. It was an inch bigger than my father's room. He always gave me the best, I ponder sometimes as though my father is buttering me up to speak of marriage again. He gave me the biggest room to sweeten the deal. A mansion next to the king's castle wouldn't seal the deal. Nothing will. Marrying a man felt like throwing me in prison without the key. Men weren't appealing to me. Another sin I bare, I fantasize about women like I would a man. I couldn't imagine living another way.

Their beauty goes unmatched. They smell, walk and talk differently from men. Their body was sculpted by god himself. Skin hugging around their hip bones. Supple breasts laid perfectly, long hair shined under the sun's glow. God, please allow to me marry a woman.