The Gypsy and the Countess 3: Memories

Isabel finally stopped crying after thirty minutes to look up and see her paintings.  Her favorite ones that she had recently created.  All of those beautiful sunrises and sunsets.  A landscape that she had painted of the hills one Sunday morning.  It was the first painting that she had worked on since her father had died eight years ago.

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She remembered that day very well.  It had been two months since her father had passed away and she was forced to move in with her Aunt in France, since she had no one else alive that could take of her.  Painting was the one thing that Isabel and her father always did together and it seemed that after he had died, she had lost all interest in painting during her period of grief, until that morning.  After she had made the move to San Martin, every person that she had encountered were constantly apologizing for her loss.  Getting tired of the townspeople's forced sympathy, she played hooky from Mass by sneaking out at the brink of dawn with a small canvas and her paints.  

The day had barely begun when she had passed her aunt's farm and came to the lone tree near a lake.  She looked beyond the lake to see rolling hills leading to a forest.  She was so busy moping around the manor that she had never noticed that any of this beauty was just in her backyard. It was at that moment that Isabel knew that her father's spirit was telling her not to give up and keep painting.  As the sky was just getting a little bit brighter, Isabel saw what was probably one of the most beautiful sunrises she had ever seen.  It was one of the best discoveries that she found since coming to France.

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"And if I marry that awful man, I'll never be able to paint again.",  she cried painful tears recalling that sweet memory of that morning.  

Isabel's mother died when she was very young, so she and her father were very close.  Not only would they  paint together, but they traveled to different countries together.  She recalled all of the different places that they had been to like, the Ottoman Empire, Germany, Spain and Russia.

"Russia?  Of course!  That's where I had seen that man before!  But it was so long ago."
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Her mind drifted back to the very last trip that she had taken with her father just months before he had died.  It was in St. Petersburg, Russia during the spring time and she had just seen the Imperial Palace for the first time.  Afterwards, they went to the marketplace, where she had seen almost all the people there wear ushankas and several of the shops were selling the iconic nesting dolls.  But the best part of the trip, was not seeing the Imperial Palace, nor the shopping, but it was meeting him!

Isabel and her father had passed by a group of gypsies dancing on the side of the street.  Most of them were singing and dancing and playing musical instruments, just like the group she had seen today.  The sight was incredibly fascinating, but only one person in the crowd was enough to catch her eye.  A small boy with very light blonde, curly hair and green eyes was dancing with a young woman, whom Isabel assumed was his mother.  

Her father had thrown a few gold coins into the hat of the female gypsy with the child.  The woman smiled and gave a nod of thanks.  Isabel tried to make eye contact with the boy, but he shied away behind his mother.  

After they had left the gypsies, Isabel's father led her to the bridge that showed off a great river in the middle of the city.  

"Never look down upon others Izzy.", her father said.  "Sometimes the poorest looking person may be the greatest treasure you will ever find.  You just never know."

Her father was meeting with a friend at the river to discuss business about a rare gem.  While they were talking, Isabel took upon herself to climb onto the bridge for a better look of the city.  She sat down on the edge of the bridge to take in the view, secretly wishing that she had a canvas and paints to capture the cityscape in front of her.  Little did she know that a certain blonde gypsy boy was standing only a few meters away from her.   Tying a silk sash to one of the bridge pillars and then tying the other end to his waist as if he was going in the river for a swim.  

The gypsy boy had finished tying when he noticed a giant ripple effect on the river.  Looking up, the girl that had happened to be sitting there wasn't there anymore.  

Isabel was panicking as she was sinking.  She was trying to swim back to the surface, but the water was much too cold as it was straining her energy.  She was about to give up until she saw a familiar face with light blonde hair grabbing her hand and body.  

They both reached the surface gasping for breath.  The boy held Isabel close as he pulled them both towards the bridge with his silk sash.  He helped her back up the surface as he climbed back up after her.  

"Are you alright miss?", the boy spoke in broken English with a thick Russian accent.

"Yes.", she whispered.

He wrapped his thin, holey blanket around her as an attempt to get warm. "What were you doing in water?"

"I was just trying to get a better look at the city.  I guess I must have just slipped and fell."

"May I suggest floating next time.  I looked underwater once and it was quite boring."

She chuckled and coughed out before her worried father arrived.  

"Isabella!  What on earth were you doing in the water?  You could have drowned!", he wrapped her up in his coat.  

She explained everything that had happened while returning the tattered blanket back to the boy.  

"Thank you child, for saving my daughter's life", her father shook the boy's hand.  

The boy looked confused.  Like he wasn't used to anyone being nice to him before.

Isabel and her father were about to walk away, until she turned back and kissed the boy on the cheek.
"Thank you!  I do hope to see you again!"

And then she walked away.