As reluctant as I was to stay on at the Courtesan Casa, it surprised me how readily I fell into a rhythm of life there.
Adrianna said she needed a break from continuing the story of the Patron’s Daughter and the Brute, and she took that break. A couple of weeks passed with none of her vivid storytelling at night.
At first, I was disappointed to have the exciting tale interrupted.
But ultimately, I was thankful to have the time to get to know Adrianna as a woman and as a friend.
It refreshed me to see her as something other than the angry young peasant she had once been, or the glamorous and larger-than-life Courtesan she became.
I met her every morning and most evenings in the theater.
While she danced, I drew rough sketches of Adrianna. Yet I joined her for the stretching and meditation.
She was a patient teacher as she walked me through the strange poses that I could not get into as far as she could. But I loved the buoyancy in my body after the exercises were done.
No wonder Adrianna always began her dance this way. But oftentimes, she would finish off her dance with stretching that segued to meditation.
I savored that peace and stillness that came from closing my eyes to be fully present inside myself. I even craved it. That inner space brought me back to the harmony of roaming outside with the sheep.
Courtesan Casa was an utterly fascinating place. Yet it was also foreign to me.
People were around all the time, every day, and I missed solitude. I missed being outside with my flock.
Those moments of stillness in the theater brought me as close to that serenity as I was going to get in the bustle and liveliness of the Casa.
After the morning routine was over, Adrianna and I would enjoy a leisurely breakfast. Sometimes we chatted, but oftentimes we ate in silence until the Butler came and read the paper to her.
Of course, I could have read to her, and used the various stories for her reading lessons.
But this had been a ritual between Adrianna and the Butler for so long, I didn’t wish to interrupt. Once he finished, the Butler left the paper with me.
Then the instruction in reading and writing began.
At first, the servants were dismissed. Yet after a few days, everybody figured out what was going on, and Adrianna relaxed enough to let her household see her vulnerable as she learned to read and write.
It made things easier because on those days when Adrianna didn’t have evening engagements, the lessons lasted several hours.
It was very pleasant to have refreshments coming as needed. Study required a lot of concentration, and it was incredible how often we both wanted to snack while working.
As I suspected, Adrianna had an excellent mind. She was even quicker to learn than I thought she would be.
It was far easier to teach her, Wanderer, than it had been to teach you. To be fair, I think it helped that I taught her reading and writing simultaneously.
But Adrianna was blessed with a raw, natural intelligence, more than I ever had, and probably more than you.
I began with the alphabet.
I wrote it out, and made her practice drawing the letters while I sounded them out. Like the governess who had taught me, I used phonetics, how letters and consonants sounded when linked together, using words out of the newspaper as examples.
Writing was challenging for her.
But she mastered the sounds of the alphabet within days. Once she made those connections, Adrianna picked up reading so fast it unnerved me to no end.
Instructing her was a pleasure.
Her concentration was formidable.
Her large golden eyes blazed as she watched and listened. I had never seen more absolute focus than I saw in Adrianna.
As usual, her beauty took my breath away.
It didn’t help that Adrianna was as flirtatious as ever during our lessons.
Somehow, she always found something to inspire a knowing grin, an impertinent wink, and that unnerving manner of laughing she had, out loud with her head thrown back.
At least a couple of times per lesson, I lost my composure and my train of thought, which inspired more grins, winks, and laughter.
But her patience with herself gave me pause.
Even though Adrianna was patient with her servants, her protégées, her strongmen, and her prodigies, most gifted people I’ve known were seldom kind to themselves.
I’ve always seen it as a perverse form of vanity. Painful expression of vanity, of course, but as driven as she was, I expected Adrianna to pressure herself to excel.
We all grew up with the fable on pride about the tortoise and the hare. Although the hare was a much faster animal, it was the tortoise that won the race.
I expected Adrianna to have the speed of the hare, along with the pride that went with it. I was agreeably surprised to see she paced herself more like the tortoise. She plodded along, rather than sprinted.
This was especially apparent as she struggled to write the words she understood and read so easily.
Bent over the paper, she painstakingly took her time with her letters and script, flicking her eyes to the alphabet and mouthing the words slowly to figure out which letters she needed for which words. Her spelling was atrocious, but she kept at writing with steady determination.
If Adrianna ever suffered a moment’s frustration, I saw little proof of it. This disciplined humility was a most welcome and pleasurable surprise.
That quality was what made me like Adrianna.
During this time, I realized I liked her quite a lot.
I actually forgot all about the Patron’s Daughter and the Brute during this respite that I enjoyed so much.
Yes, Wanderer, I promise to teach you how to write in due time.
To return to the story, this fresh source of esteem made it impossible for me to deny the desire Adrianna inspired in me.
I figured that would get your attention, Wanderer, and I will get there in due course.
