Chapter 17: Dreaming of Rosa

Vito and the others made their way to the inn. A sign displaying the name ‘Lorafiel’s Rest’ hung above the front doors. He pushed the double doors open and watched a young woman serving a table of four. She wore a white apron over a blue dress. He didn’t see anyone else to assist them in checking in.

“One moment!” the servant called. She ran to set a wooden tray on the bar and quickly walked to them. “Ah, Mr. Parsifal. Your rooms are ready for you,” she informed them. “How did the dragon hunt fair?”

“It won’t be a problem anymore,” Parsifal repeated Greye’s vague answer. “Were the cilradhs any trouble, Levia?”

“Those monster horse creatures? No, I managed to get them comfortably settled in our stables.”

“Very good,” Parsifal took his leave and climbed up a flight of stairs.

Vito handed her a small pouch of coins as a generous tip to a clearly overworked employee. “He meant to say “thank you,” Ms. Levia.”

Levia briefly laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it.” She was stronger than she appeared. “Thank you for dealing with that dragon. Life isn’t easy around here, and a dragon would have made it short.”

“It’s our job. Let us know if anything else comes up.”

“I’ll do just that. You guys sleep well. I’ll have the best meal you’ve ever eaten waiting for you when you wake up.”

“We appreciate it,” Greye told her as he left the area.

Vito’s room was right next to Iris’s. His hand hovered near the doorknob, but stopped when he saw Iris open her door.

“Hey,” he called out to her.

“Yes?”

“Does the word 'Italia' sound familiar to you?”

Iris smiled and shook her head. “No, because I’m not Rosa,” she replied. “But I’m sure she’s thinking of you as much as you’re thinking of her. Good night, Vito.”

“Yeah, good night.” Vito walked into his room and immediately flopped down on the surprisingly comfortable bed. He had to accept that Iris was completely unrelated to Rosa. Perhaps they were counterparts from across worlds, but they were different people. He was happy that Rosa wasn’t caught in the same divine intervention, but that didn’t stop him from missing her.

Classic Italian music rang through the air of the DeCapio villa in Palermo. His great-grandfather built it with his bare hands, and it continued to act as the DeCapios’ home. Vito was dressed in a fine suit to match the formal nature of the party his grandfather held. Festivities filled the air in the well-lit courtyard, the night sky acting as their only ceiling. The scene was perfect for what Vito had in mind.

“There she is,” Chris told him. Rosa stood across the room, an angel among mortals. A deep blue dress clung to her figure. Vito thought a tiara wouldn’t go amiss in her perfectly brushed black hair.

“Yes, there she is,” Vito repeated.

“Are you nervous, brother? Vito DeCapio is quaking in his shoes.”

Vito gave him a flat look and lightly jabbed his arm. “I’ll be going then.”

“Wait,” Chris stopped him. “I’m happy for you. The endless women from here to Florence may have been fun, but you’ve never smiled wider than when you’re with Rosa.”

Vito grinned and walked away to find the woman of his dreams. “Rosa,” he called, getting her attention.

“Vito.” She turned to face him, a slightly annoyed look on her face. “Weren’t you supposed to escort me here?”

“Ah, yes…” Vito winced. “It took me a while to retrieve something, and you were already here by the time I did.”

“Oh? And what was so important?”

Another party guest interrupted their conversation. “May I have this dance, miss?” A suave man with slick hair bowed and offered his hand.

“Her dance card is full for the evening, sir.” Venom coated every word Vito spoke.

Chris grabbed the man by his shoulder and smiled. “Don’t I owe you a drink?” Vito’s brother was known for his height and strength. He could physically intimidate people whenever he wanted. “Come, let me make it up to you!”

Vito watched Chris drag the man off and leave him alone with Rosa. “Is my dance card really full?” He took her hands and pulled her into a dance, earning a brief laugh from her. He kept pace with the band’s music and mingled with the other dancing couples.

“Ah, that anger melts to joy. Were you that upset I didn’t escort you here?”

“Yes. It was rude.”

Vito briefly chuckled. “I had a good reason, love.”

“Such as?”

“Marry me.” Vito proposed to her.

Rosa was surprised for a moment. A sly grin played across her painted lips. “Marry you? Shouldn’t you at least present a ring on bended knee?”

Vito warmly smiled and looked to her right hand. Rosa followed his gaze and found a diamond ring on her finger. He slipped it on her finger when he took her hand to dance. “Marry me,” he repeated.

Rosa lightly giggled. “I may as well, you already put the ring on my finger.” Vito wrapped his arms around her, and the two shared a loving kiss to seal their promise. He would never forget that night. Her warmth, her voice, her perfume. Everything was imprinted upon his heart.

He heard his brother, father, and grandfather trying their best to hide their excitement. The couple ended their kiss and smiled at one another. “You were looking for this ring?” Rosa asked.

“Yes. My grandfather used it to propose to my grandmother. My father used it to propose to my mother. It was stored away, and we were searching for the key so I could use it to propose to you.”

Rosa gently stroked his cheek. “I see. I’ll forgive you then. Just this time.” Vito put his hand over hers. He remembered how soft and gentle it was, and how he never wanted their hands to part.

“Come.” Rosa took his hand and led him off the dance floor. Vito eagerly followed behind her. He caught sight of his brother silently cheering him on.

The music slowly faded away. He blinked once, and Rosa vanished. Her hand was replaced by his knife. Pain suddenly racked his body. He looked down and saw blood pouring from numerous bullet wounds, staining his suit red.

“Vito!” Rosa called to him. Fear and anguish masked her beautiful face as she urgently ran toward him.

The ground cracked beneath him, condemning Vito to a dark abyss. A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I got you, Vito! Just hang on.”

He looked up and saw a familiar face. Blue hair rather than black, a woman donned a purple robe. “Iris…” He closed his eyes as pain swallowed him whole.