As the day broke in the streets and corners of the capital, the newspaper boys scuttled through the town selling the day's paper. Their voices rang from each corner, either piquing the interest of the passerby or eliciting an upturned collar. The town was coming alive – carriages were unloading their stock in front of shop fronts, their owners directing the placement of goods with pointed gestures before resuming to sweep the cobblestoned street outside their doors. Others were already leaning against their propped-open doors, head buried in their newspapers.
In the port, the goods had been already transported from the ships. The sailors and merchants had retired to their dark cabins and now only officers patrolled the boardwalk which reeked from the stench of fish, passing a few straddler seagulls who were still picking at their morning meal.
Ginevra looked out through the window, watching a seagull with a stuffed beak make a landing on the roof above her.
"King declares war on the sea! Grain prices rise by 18%!" a boy called from the street, cupping his hands to his mouth while tightly hugging the newspapers under his arm.
"The king is mad," Ginevra declared, without looking away from the window.
The maid, who had been adjusting the window drape, almost choked at Ginevra's brazen words.
"He is. He's not suited to rule."
"Ginevra! Don't say such things. Even as an aristocrat, you're not above treason."
Ginevra let out a short breath through her nose, arms folded over her chest. She was just saying what the entire kingdom already knew but didn't dare say out loud. Instead, they chose flowery words to pad the grating truth – the king was "eccentric" "a visionary", "a man of whimsical taste".
Ginevra looked down at the pile of papers in her lap and put her glasses back on. She quickly scanned the page again, for the tenth time that morning.
"What am I missing? The staff have been paid, taxes submitted yesterday, and expenses from the path month added. Why won't these numbers add up?" She walked over to the wall and slumped to the ground, a habit of hers whenever she needed to think or focus.
"…and the servants letters of recommendation?" Sofia asked from over her shoulder as she padded down the pillows on the divan."
Ginevra covered her face with the stack of papers. "I'll finish writing them up tonight."
Why was it so hard to focus today?
She turned around on her stomach and propped her chin up on her hands.
"Sofia? What do you know about the Duke of Maldoni?"
Sofia, who had been dusting the mantelpiece, froze in place.
"The Duke?" she squeaked.
Ginevra cocked her head to the side. She knew Sofia had all the latest news and gossip, which was very advantageous at times like these.
"I know that he's powerful, has lots of land…and a huge house…" Sofia said, venturing a nervous smile. Ginevra continued staring down Sofia, but the girl stubbornly stayed quiet, avoiding meeting her eyes. It seemed that she was quite set on not revealing any more information.
"Fine," Ginevra sat up and folded her arms in front of her chest. "I think I have a pretty good image of the duke. He's old, fat and ugly and used to being bossed around by his mother and sisters. Men like that enjoy spreading rumors about themselves to inflate their reputations. And when you finally do meet them – a tiny man emerges from behind that balloon." Ginevra thought for a moment. "Definitely the kind who would scream seeing a mouse."
Ginevra and Sofia exchanged glances, bursting into a giggle.
"Anyway, he'll be here soon and you'll have a chance to judge for yourself," Sofia told Ginevra.
It was not long after Sofia had said that that the housekeeper threw the door open to the drawing room.
"The Duke of Maldoni, Your Grace."
Ginevra had been sitting by the window seat – surely she couldn't have been so absorbed in her paperwork that she would have missed the arrival of a carriage right under her.
Ginevra had just enough time to throw herself into the armchair in the middle of the room when a tall young man with white hair walked in.
Ginevra's heart skipped a beat. It was him…
The young man regarded her with an amused expression, his eyes twinkling. The corners of his mouth were slightly lifted, giving the appearance that he was perpetually on the verge of breaking into a smile. His dress was elegant – a light purple embellished cravat brought out the magenta in his hair and the necktie was pristine and done with outmost care.
Something akin to surprise passes behind Luca's eyes when he saw her, but he almost immediately masked with a smile. She looked like a schoolgirl. Could Taren be serious about her? Even the armchair dwarfed her.
Ginevra's eyes narrowed. No, this was not the duke.
Ginevra rose from her seat.
"It's a pleasure to meet you"
Luca strode towards her and dipped into a bow in one sweeping gesture.
"The honor and pleasure are all mine, Your Grace," he responded.
"But, you are not the Duke."
She knew that before he even introduced himself?
"No, I am not. I'm his correspondent and all too often proxy, Luca Volpe. The Duke of Maldoni regrets not being able to come himself, unfortunately there were matters…" Luca paused, eyes looking to his lower left as he smiled to himself, "which required his immediate attention. However, you may speak freely with me. I assure you, everything will be kept in the strictest confidence." Luca flashed her another charming smile.
Ginevra stared at him. He was hard to read. His smile seemed genuine, but his eyes were playful and revealed nothing.
"Very well," Ginevra said as she sat down again, with Luca taking the seat across from her.
She was kind of cute. But unfortunately, off limits.
"Your Grace –"
"Ginevra. It's just Ginevra."
"Ginevra, I would like to offer the Duke's and my deepest sympathies for your loss.
"Thank you, we received them. His condolences were included above the marriage proposal.
Luca cleared his throat and poured himself some tea from the porcelain teapot that had been prepared on the low table before them.
"Yes, Duke Maldoni has already approached your father for your hand in marriage. He has consented." Luca looked up from under his eyelashes as he continued to pour the tea. "Do you?"
"Of course," Ginevra quickly responded, as she dunk a cookie into her own teacup.
Luca smiled to himself, noticing that she hadn't even hesitated.
Ginevra continued. "I am also aware of the terms of the agreement. There is no need to review them. I approve of them."
She approved of them? This girl was interesting. Luca leaned forward in his armchair, his elbows resting on his knees, and intently looked at Ginevra.
"Ginevra, have you ever met the Duke?"
Ginevra was surprised by the action and the sudden shift in his tone, but did not lean away from him. "We haven't had the opportunity to become acquainted."
"But surely… you must have heard of him," Luca replied.
"Of course."
Luca leaned in further. "Have you, taken the time to consider what you're getting yourself into?"
Luca's expression had changed, leaving no trace of the playfulness in his eyes and voice from earlier.
Ginevra felt her heart beat speed up. What should she have considered? No, the decision had already been made. She straightened her shoulders.
"I've already made my decision. And even then, the papers have already been signed. Wouldn't backing out now mean breaking my word?"
The taught energy in the room was released. Luca leaned back in his arm chair again. "That is true. However, there is one more document left to sign."
Their eyes interlocked.
"The marriage license."
Ginevra nodded. She would trust the path this decision would take her.
"The Duke will expect Your Ladyship at noon tomorrow at his residence," Luca said as he began to rise. "Thank you for your courteous reception. I'm afraid I must take leave already. The duke's carriage will be sent for you."
Luca bowed once again, and taking Ginevra's hand into his, kissed it.
"We don't have a butler at the moment, but I can –"
Luca's characteristic sly grin spread across his lips again. "No need, I can show myself out."
Ginevra slumped back into the armchair the moment Luca left. At first, she had been relieved that the Duke had not come. But now, she was curious… who was this man? Why did Luca hesitate? Aside from the fact that he was a Maldoni, all she knew were bits and pieces of rumors about him.
Luca walked through the hall of the Scaraveggi townhouse, in a strange mood after his visit. He had come to finalize the arrangements, but he started to question her decision instead. Why? The tone of her voice and that determination in her eyes, she – surprised him. This girl had seen her share of pain.
If not for this marriage, what kind of happy life could she have led?
Luca shook his head, smiling, as he opened the front door and was met with a bright and brisque afternoon day. Luca, you are an idiot. Stop overthinking this. And so, another tool is added to the Maldoni collection…
He turned the corner and disappeared into the hubbub of the city.
***
As the sun waned in the sky, the rays hit the palace gates in an angle that cast an ethereal glow on the gilded golden gates. While centrally situated in the city, the palace couldn't be more removed from its surroundings. With its towering spiers which were often shrouded by clouds and the marble and gold embellishments, it spoke to the wealth and success of Atheon as a trade city.
The pendants at the tips of the spiers flagged in the strong breeze. A man with long golden hair looked up at them from where he stood in the street outside the palace gates. His hair too glinted as it caught the light of the sun.
"They flail in the wind like they always have. And yet, nothing else has remained unchanged. There are so many things I had hoped to tell you, and now, they wouldn't make a difference after all."
A palace guard making his round noticed the loiterer. It was incredible to him the number of crazy lunatics who still insisted on hanging around the gates, despite knowing the rules.
"Hey! You there. Get a move on. No lounging around the castle gates!"
To the guard's surprise, the man calmly turned towards the guard. "The sunset's beautiful this evening, isn't it?" He had a wistful smile on his face as he turned around and walked away, hands clasped behind his back, his long golden hair blowing in the light breeze.
Too many crazy lunatics in this town, the guard thought as he continued with his round.