Treasure of the sea |Lesbian story|

CHAPTER LII

We got into the habit of talking every night. We would not set a specific time; Arenis would appear before the door of the hut and both of us in silence, as if by common agreement, we would walked along the sand observing the water colored by the sunset. Thus, in fragments, I learned of her life and she of mine.

Gradually, however, my tales of a life spent in ease and comfort began to clash with hers. Drained by discomfort, I avoided expressing the happier or more amusing aspects of my memories, worried that similar experiences might ignite in her some spark of envy or even disdain.

"Why are you holding back?" asked Arenis one of those times.

"Oh, Captain, my life seems so happy in comparison of yours. I feel a little ashamed to tell you what I have experienced. Even my greatest sorrows seem trivial in front of yours."

"What have you to be ashamed of? You were born into a rich family willing to give you everything. You should only rejoice in your good fortune. And your sorrows are certainly no less relevant than mine. The suffering does not change, it is always the same for anyone."

I learned of Laurence, the husband she had idealized and loved, of the day she had discovered that that determination and stubbornness of his had backfired on his crew, condemning everyone but her to hanging. For Arenis he had reserved a different fate, a fate far from the sea.

"I know your world very well, Eveline. I have lived there for years. It is a very different world thanthe one I was born into, but no less difficult."

And that's when I understood. I understood why her way of speaking was different from everyone else's, I understood why in the beginning she had looked at me as if I were a child from whom had been hidden from the cruelties of men, I understood why she he had learned to dance the minuet.

"You didn't like it, did you?" I asked.

"I liked it because of its stability, its security, its monotony, at first, but then I began not tostand it anymore. If it hadn't been for Jahzara, who has managed to pull me out of that dark period filled with regrets, I don't know where I would be now."

"She was your slave?"

"Yes, my personal maid."

I had discovered in Arenis a person worthy of being known. Beneath that mask of ice was a sincere and shrewd woman with a keen intellect and a biting humor. She wanted to know everything. She wanted to learn new things and put them into practice the next day. She wanted to discuss Plato and wanted to read the works of other philosophers. "That way I can discuss their thoughts with you," so she had said. And she amazed me. She always amazed me. She made me reconsider everything, even the most trivial. In every sentence she read of a book she thought there was something more hidden in the subtext. She would read between the lines, rooting out and bringing to light the author's intentions and essence. Nothing could escape her. And our conversations were transformed, becoming dense with concepts and ideas, and I yearned for them. I would wait impatiently for the sun to descend toward the horizon, and when it was close to setting I would cast glances out the kitchen window to see if she was coming.

We would talk about the past, the present and the future. We would talk about God, death and life, the meaning of things. I had never imagined that Arenis could be interested in such discussions or that we could have so many things in common. Instead, she was constantly drawn to our confrontations. She liked to express her arguments and listening to mine. She liked it when I could make her discover a new piece of the puzzle she had created in her mind.

"Usually in Shakespeare's plays the character most important enters the scene last. Do you remember who is who enters last in The Tempest?" I asked her.

"Caliban."

"That's right."

"But he can't be the most important character. I mean, Caliban is just a foul monster and slave of Prospero."

"No. Caliban is the representation of otherness. In beginning one feels disgust for him. Then, the character most cruel and ambiguous turns out to be Prospero himself. Prospero feels that Caliban should be grateful to him for educating him in his culture and teaching him the "superior" language, because, in his view, he had taught him to be "human." But Caliban wants freedom; Prospero had taken his island illegitimately. Thanks to his magical gifts, Prospero had even managed to bend nature under his will. Do you understand, now, who Caliban is and who Prospero is? Caliban depicts the native, the one who is deceived, colonized and enslaved; Prospero, on the other hand, is the colonizer, the Westerner. Initially Caliban will try to rebel with words, but later he will try to conspire against Prospero and kill him,but he will not succeed."

"I had not considered this point of view."

"The Tempest is one of Shakespeare's best plays. There are many themes, the theme of colonization is definitely the most pronounced."

"Now that you have pointed all this out to me I think really going to read it again!"

Author's Notes: Hello everyone! So sorry for posting after a long time! I was a little busy during this period, but now I'm back! And I will finish translating this story soon! I hope you all have a good day! <3