Chapter Text
“You need a husband, Donna Alexandra.”
“I have need for no such thing, Titus.” Lexa responded dryly, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers she was scribbling her signature over. The shape of this particular string of words was so familiar upon her lips that their ability to twist them into a frown had long ago been eroded. His choice to call her by her true name bothered her less and less as well. He knew her from before she had changed her legal name. He also knew her family intimately. As long as he stayed silent in the right company, Lexa would allow him to play his ineffective power games.
“Come now” Titus attempted a placating tone. “Your…status as the head of the family is quite unconventional enough. No doubt accepted in respect to your father’s great contributions to this region’s development. But to be at the helm of business…”
Lexa’s eyes snapped up from the documents she had been focusing on to level the man with a withering stare. She has heard this drivel more than enough times to know his arguments by heart, feeling the need to amuse him by listening less each time the words pierced her ears.
“I have neither care nor the patience for your meddling in my private affairs today. If you have business in my office I encourage you to do business.” Lexa said as she leaned back in her chair. “Otherwise begone from my sight, I intend to retire early today.”
“You could enjoy as much of your time at leisure as you wished if you were to…” Titus’ silky words were cut short when a shattering sound exploded close to his ears.
“Out!” Lexa ground out, voice low and threatening. Her tone held the distinct hint of self-assurance, an expectation of obedience. She would not shout. She had neither the need nor the taste for it. It was one thing to shatter a perfectly good glass of whiskey on the wall on account of an imbecile of a trading partner. Her dignity was an entirely different matter. While it was not quite as fragile as a crystal glass, the man had not earned the honor of being worth scratching her dignity over.
Titus gave her a flat stare as he remained motionless in his seat.
Lexa begrudgingly had to give the man credit for not jumping like a terrified schoolboy when the glass shattered inches from his bald head. His aloof stare, the poised calm he forced on his features even as his eyes belied his rising temper were the principal reasons she would not let loose that darker side of herself, the one that begged Lexa to be set free. No. There was a time and place for that. A time and place Titus knew all too well and had avoided like the plague ever since his first cocky attempt when Lexa promptly handed his bruised backside to him within minutes of entering the practice mat with her.
Titus stood from his seat as regally as he could muster in his flowing robes that were fashioned in the way of the Cuban natives and silently left Lexa’s establishment.
“Ah…so you were only in here to drive me to drink. And for my cigars.” Lexa muttered to herself. It was her custom to offer cigars to whoever came to do business with her. Although with Titus she had considered making an exception - the man had a tendency to visit her without so much as a faint excuse. His leeching did not make a single dent in her finances, but Lexa felt irked by the preposterousness of it.
Glancing at the subtly elongating stain of liquor on the wall Lexa huffed in resignation. “Paco!” She called to the young boy of eight or nine she had hired as a gofer some weeks ago. ‘Perhaps a good strong cup of coffee would soothe my nerves.’
“Ah, pequeño bastardo…” (little bastard) Anya swore around the tip of the cigar she had just bitten off before putting the other end in her mouth. It was a shared vice of theirs. One they frequently indulged in in Lexa’s study. It was the only place that afforded them enough privacy to do so. The new liberation laws had not yet been in place for long enough for people to not give them stares. Anya’s status as a former slave would not be quickly forgotten.
Lexa’s rich laugh trilled in the air between them in response. Anya had been her fail safe since childhood. She had never had cause to fear Anya’s rejection. Ridicule, yes. Coarse humor, almost always. Incessant streams of cynicism, naturally. But rejection, never. She might dismiss Lexa’s worries aloofly but Lexa could always be sure any such occurrence would always be on the back of an equally aloof solution to whatever problem she faced. Anya was, in truth, an endless pain in her ass. But she was also the most loyal of friends.
“My money is still on him being an insufferable prick because he secretly covets your… goodies.” Anya said in a nasal tone as she puffed out a ring of smoke.
“Anya, you had BETTER be talking about my business goodies, in which case it is not quite such a secret” Lexa said, audibly disgusted. True enough, the first half a dozen times the man had spoken of her lack of a husband Lexa could have sworn she felt the breath of death upon her cheeks, terrified that the scrawny little man would propose to her.
“Of course I am” Anya deadpanned but the glint in her eyes belied her. “Your business goodies are the topmost quality on the market, who wouldn’t covet them.”
Lexa narrowed her eyes at Anya, waiting for the punchline to drop. There was always a punchline. The devil of a woman merely liked to toy with her prey before pouncing.
“In any case, I am rather uncertain as to whether your other goodies have not expired yet…” Anya delivered her teasing with an elaborate show of her trademark bored expression before slowly allowing her cheeky mirth to bleed from her eyes onto the rest of her features.
‘Ah…there it is. Why why WHY is everyone so interested in my private affairs today?’ Lexa thought sourly as she drained the rest of her whiskey in a single gulp, allowing the liquor to burn its path down her throat. 'At least Anya was permitted to make it her business...'
“My other goodies are perfectly fine, thank you… I just haven’t met anyone…” Lexa had to bite her lips to stop the words from spilling forth. “that caught my eye…” The single secret she still withheld even from Anya was her budding desire for and subsequent heartbreak over Costia. It had almost been a decade but Lexa had not forgotten the sunkissed cheeks and warm brown eyes of her almost lover.
“Ah, the pretty chicquita had a lasting effect on you then…” Anya said in a mildly teasing tone. The only indication of her seriousness was that she had thrown her legs off the side of the armchair she had been lounging in and sat up straight as she stared at Lexa intently.
Lexa forced a false facade of calm on herself, clinging to her mask of unconcerned curiosity as she fought the wave of panic rising in her chest.
“What was her name? Costia? You never talked about her after her death so I had assumed you had just grown out of it.” Anya continued, her words revealing a truth Lexa had not dreamed anyone but herself was in possession of.
Lexa could feel her mask of calm slipping as her jaw slackened and she stared at her closest friend in unguarded shock.
“Oh, Cariño, did you think I didn’t know?” Anya asked, her voice uncharacteristically kind, her features turning softly amused.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I assumed you didn’t.” Lexa muttered.
“You assumed wrong.”
“Apparently,” was the single word Lexa could muster. She was choking on an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. ‘Anya had known all this time…’ She had always known that behind the impenetrably thick smoke screen of crude vulgarity Anya hid a compassionate soul. She had been, after all, a mother to her in lieu of her true mother who had died in childbirth. But it was beyond her wildest hopes that anyone, even Anya, could accept her like this.
They had spoken low and long into the night, Lexa emptying the deep well of grief and loneliness of her heart, pouring her most private joy and pain into the ears of the only person she had ever truly trusted.
“It’s too late to talk sense to her now.” Anya remarked.
“You can’t marry her, Lexa! You’ve never met her!” Gustus growled, displeased at the news he was presented with.
Lexa marched around the corner with determination. Yes she could. Yes, she would. Commissioning the statue in loving memory of Costia’s heroic efforts six months ago had a truly liberating effect on Lexa. She had gradually opened up and allowed a small circle of her close confidants into her heart, sharing with them her desire to share her life with someone. A partner. A partner she had not been able to find in the sultry heart of Cuba.
If it were only owing to her looks that her partner had eyes for her, it would have been one thing. Lexa could have been content with that. But women of her inclination were scarce, so Lexa had found. The majority that showed any interest in her appeared to be vastly more interested in the pretty bank account everyone knew she owned than anything about her person. She had little hope that those women could truly become her companions. Concubines, yes. But that was not Lexa was after.
And so, after much consideration and not so subtle criticism from Anya, she had finally written an an advertisement in one of the American newspapers. They were the future. If Lexa was to find herself a wife, a person truly interested in her as a person, she was unshakably confident that she would be from America.
“I meet her today. The boat from America comes at six. We marry at nine, by ten we shall be back.” Lexa announced with a bravado she was far from feeling. Apparently it had shown for the moment she stopped Anya started fussing over her suit jacket, undoing and rebuttoning it. Clearly she had been somewhat hasty to dress that morning.
“Ridiculous! This is ridiculous!” Gustus insisted.
“You need a family and an heir. Isn’t that what you have been telling me? Well, I sent for one.” Lexa threw his own words back at him. Anya’s injection that she was to be from America went unacknowledged.
“What does she look like?” Gustus eventually asked, sounding somewhat defeated.
“There comes a day, in everyone’s life, when a band is playing, and they’re the only one who can hear it. Today is your day.” Anya teased, laughter in her voice. She had blatantly called Lexa insane innumerable times since she had started her correspondence with Julia. This subtle teasing was an indication that Anya had given up and decided to jump on her bandwagon.
“I love you, woman!” Lexa exclaimed in a rare burst of affection and kissed Anya on the cheek, hoping to surprise the woman enough to get the upper hand, even if only for a moment. No such luck, even on her wedding day, for Anya merely swatted her shoulder and pushed her away, covering whatever emotions she had with a withering stare.
“She is not even beautiful!” Gustus remarked as he grabbed the picture Lexa withdrew from her breast pocket.
“She is not meant to be beautiful! She is meant to be kind and true and young enough to bear children.” Lexa cut him off. Of course she knew why Gustus’s feathers were so ruffled. She had shocked the man to his core when she told him that it would fall on his capable shoulders to give them a child. Anya’s remark that it would fall on something other than his shoulders had not helped the matter.
“Oh come on then! The sun will be up any minute. The boat will be coming in.” Anya urged them toward the carriage waiting to take Lexa to the harbor.
“What about love, Lexa? Doesn’t love come into this equation at all?”
“Love is not for me, Gustus. Love is for those people who believe in it.” Lexa said ominously. She cared little for the romantic aspect of the affair. She was unsure if she was capable of it. Unsure if there was anything left in her that Costia had not taken with her. It was the connection that mattered to her, the companionship. Someone other than her friends to share her life with. Someone to take care of. Perhaps a child or two she could leave her considerable wealth to when it was her time.
Finally growing tired of Anya’s insistent laughter she leaned over the side of the carriage as the horses started trotting out the gate. “Why are you laughing at me? You’ve been laughing at me the whole morning!”
“Oh never you mind! You go!” Anya yelled after her, dismissing her query altogether, her laughter echoing in Lexa’s ears long after she had left the gates of her property.