Illusions
Chapter 1 - Proposals
"Ezio! Ezio come, I have great news!" Maria Auditore called as she strolled into the Palazzo Auditore, her arms outstretched to embrace her son.
"What is it mother?" he asked, an inquisitive smile on his face. Maria grasped her son's forearms excitedly.
"The deal has been finalized; you are getting married, mio figlio!" Maria squealed excitedly.
Ezio's eyes stretched as wide as saucers. "What? Mother, what are you talking about?"
"Your father and one of his partners- Stefano Maselli - they have made a deal to strengthen the company. He has a daughter, you see, a daughter your age. They decided it would be best-"
"Best for who? Father? For this Stefano? Mother, I am-"
"At the marriage age! Ezio-"
Ezio gently pushed his mother away, placing one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his temple. "How long have you been concocting this plan?" he questioned.
Maria pursed her lips. "It was an idea the girl's father had many years ago."
It took Ezio a second to process what he was being told. It's not as if this was unheard of, since many noble families had daughters and sons shipped off for marriage. Yet Ezio could not see himself married to someone he did not even know, and someone he may even grow to hate. He couldn't see himself trapped in a loveless union that way, and moreover, what about Christina? Did his mother think that he could just forget everything about her?
"Why me, mother? Why not Federico? He is older than I am!" he said spitefully.
"Watch your tone, mio figlio." Maria scolded, clearing her throat before beginning again. "Your brother seems to have made other arrangements. Besides that, you and Stefano's daughter are the same age. You will like her, I am sure of it. She's very intelligent and beautiful."
Ezio stuttered, rubbing at his temples and trying to work his way through his situation. "I…" he ran his hands over his face. "I need to think."
And with that, he exited the Palazzo Auditore and took a walk.
A long walk. One that consisted of mostly rooftops.
He wandered for a good two hours, perusing the wide flat roofs of bathed in mid-afternoon sunshine until his muscles ached faintly and the sun had begun its descent into the horizon. As he grew tired, Ezio found a suitable place to sit at the base of a church tower and pulled his knees up to his chest.
Could he do it? It would please his father surely, not only will he see his son married but his business would take off like a firework. No doubt the wedding would be the 'social highlight of the season' as his mother would say. It was a win-win for both Giovanni and Maria. But could he even consent to marry a woman he had never met? She could be as ugly as dog, have the body of a pig and smell like one too. Worse still, she could be the dullest human being to ever walk the earth. Ezio couldn't bear to think of the latter.
"I knew you would react like that." A familiar voice called from his left. Federico Auditore nimbly walked across to the slate roof to sit shoulder to shoulder with his younger brother. "I told Mother to wait a little while and let me speak to you, but she's very excited over the whole affair."
Ezio glared at his brother. "You knew as well? Fantastico, who else knew, the fucking Pope?"
Federico laughed, but Ezio remained stoic as he tried to reign in his temper. "You need to agree to this, fratello, for the family. Also, I do not think you'll regret it. She is a very interesting girl."
"I don't know about this, Federico. I haven't even met her. What if-"
"You're meeting her tomorrow, actually. So, since it's getting late, we better be going. Come on." Federico stood, offering his arm to Ezio to help him up. The brothers stood, but Ezio turned away and dashed to a near-by rooftop. "Where the hell are you going Ezio?"
Ezio smiled. "Enjoying what could be my last night of freedom!" he turned, swiftly dashing away from his brother and dropping to the streets below.
Federico scoffed, knowing exactly where his little brother was headed.
…
Cristina slept beside him, but Ezio laid awake in anticipated restlessness. He couldn't fathom how anyone but Christina could hold a fragment of his heart, and how he would soon have to leave her. One thing he couldn't do was be unfaithful, whether in a loving relationship or not, but now he had to decide who he was going to devote himself to.
Ezio rolled over to face his sleeping lover, suddenly realising that this impending union could be the end of his life as he knew it. Domesticity beckoned, and he was utterly terrified of what it would entail. Utter and complete boredom. Nothing but waking, eating, pissing, working, sleeping, a never ending cycle of meaningless tasks and conversations and meetings and work days. Ezio shuddered. Could he submit to please his parents?
He decided that he'd had more than enough time in Cristina's slumbering company, and quietly rose from the bed, pulled on his clothing and stealthily climbed through her open window. Ezio took a deep breath in, drawing the crisp night air into his lungs. His mother would not be happy about this little visit, and neither would his father. He took his time making his way back to his palazzo.
...
It seemed as if as soon as Ezio's head hit the pillow, his mother was bursting into his room fussing over today's events. Today, like Federico had said, was the day he would meet his fidanzata. After his mother left, he dressed. He kept it simple, a plain white shirt and waistcoat with his favourite worn boots and plain brown trousers. Hardly a outfit to meet your future bride, but it wasn't like he was interested in the subject anyway. Plus, he was still completely undecided on the whole ordeal.
He came to the courtyard to see his mother and father stood in the centre, their backs facing him. Across from Giovanni, he saw a man- the tallest man he had ever seen in his entire life. He looked as if he was touching seven feet tall and even that in itself seemed like an understatement. He wore what most noblemen would wear; a long robe woven with intricate patterns of gold and red. There wasn't much else to say about him- other than his eyes were the deepest brown possible and his hair was as grey as ash. There was not a single feature about him that was defining besides his height. Ezio cleared his throat.
Maria turned first and tutted under her breath. "Ezio, I told you to make an effort. You look the same as you do most of the time!" She approached her son and straightened his waistcoat.
"Ezio, this is Stefano Maselli, the bride's father." Giovanni said, gesturing to the giant of a man before him.
"Molto onorato, signore Maselli." Ezio shook Stefano's hand firmly, bowing slightly as he did.
"L'onore è mio, Ezio," Stefano looked as if he couldn't wait for this whole affair to be over. "My daughter should be here any minute now." He smiled awkwardly. Giovanni opened his mouth to somehow diffuse the tension as a small carriage appeared just outside of the courtyard. Ezio suddenly became nervous.
But as Stefano's daughter stepped out of the carriage, his mouth went as dry as the desert.
She stood proud, her back straight, her hair untamed and curling wildly around her, helping another young girl out of the carriage. Stefano's daughter had a soft, heart-shaped face with rounded cheekbones and chin. Her almond shaped eyes were a different and fascinating matter entirely. One eye- the right, he saw- was a deep brown, so dark that he could not distinguish her iris from her pupil. The left however, was the colour of fresh moss, and her eyebrows were shaped into a deceivingly perfect arch that followed the slight curve of her eye. A button nose sat atop plump lips, and great masses of brown hair, thick and almost terrifyingly aggressively curly, spilled out around her face right down to the very bottom of her back. The soft features of the girl's face were merely a reflection of her entire body structure, and everything—from short stature to her stocky form— was exuding confidence.
"Signore Ezio, these are my daughters, Eloisa and Freyja Maselli." Stefano said, half-proudly.
The girls kept their eyes on the floor. The youngest seemed to be only around three years old, and she was shaking like a leaf. The eldest however, was completely unphased and seemingly bored out of her mind.
The youngest lifted her eyes and curtseyed politely. "This is Eloisa," Stefano gestured to the youngest girl. "And this is Freyja." The eldest did not make one move.
And, at long last, Freyja lifted her strange eyes to meet Ezio's. He bowed slightly, gently grasping her hand and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles
Freyja smiled politely. "Lovely to meet you, signore Ezio."
"And the same to you, bella donna." He smirked.
...
Freyja was, simply put, almost catatonically bored. She had to let Ezio speak, since it was polite, and he was droning on and on and on. She sorely hoped this was not how he was in everyday life. Christ, she'd hang herself within a week. She shivered inwardly as he tightened the hold he had on arm.
She couldn't quite obviously deny that he was handsome and relatively intelligent from whatever he was droning on about, yet Freyja felt a sense of arrogance in him. And that was something she just could not tolerate. There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance.
Ezio was talking and talking about some feud he had with a Pazzi person or something like that. Freyja fidgeted with her uncomfortable dress, a simple dark green gown stitched with silver thread thread. With all of her might she tried to look interested and thanked God she'd had the sense to leave her hair alone and not put it into a headache-inducing style like her step-mother insisted. Ezio's conversation would've intensified it tenfold.
"So then the codardo thinks he can beat me in a fight, which he will not let me prove," he smirked, chuckling to himself. Freyja tried to smile. "You're not interested in anything I am saying, are you, bella donna?"
Freyja turned to see her father with Giovanni and her stepmother with Maria. She swallowed back a lump of guilt. "No, I am. Please, go on." she said, forcing a polite smile.
Ezio eyed her intently. "I know what you're doing."
"What am I doing, signore?"
He laughed. "You don't have to pretend you're interested, bella donna. Why don't we change the subject?"
Freyja gathered her hopes, praying her boredom was at its end. "To what, exactly?"
"I don't know. Why don't we start from the beginning? Birthdays, full names, hobbies, things like that."
Freyja felt a tingle in her stomach as she smiled. Well, at least he's vaguely thoughtful.
Ezio turned his head to face her, keeping their pace slow and gentle. "So, Freyja Maselli, when is your birthday?." He said, placing a gentle finger under her chin to meet their gazes. Her strange eyes were certainly interesting.
"I was born on the 27th of May, 1460 in England. My mother was Swedish and my father, as you know is Italian."
"Is that why you have such a unique name?" he questioned, slightly riveted by the idea of knowing her story, while also hoping his efforts to impress were not wasted.
Freyja almost giggled. "You could say that. My mother grew up with the legends of Scandinavian gods and goddesses. I was named after the goddess of beauty and war."
"Wow, foreign and beautiful. I like it." Ezio smirked.
Freyja scoffed. "I bet you say that to all of your ladies." She turned her head once more to the afternoon sun in the west and their parents just a few feet behind.
"Not the foreign part." he smirked. Freyja blushed red, hoping her disappointment didn't show. For all the good she'd glimpsed at, it seemed the bad would rule over him.
She sighed faintly as Ezio beckoned her to continue. "My middle name is Giulietta, and I-"
"Freyja, mia figlia, it is time for us to leave!" Stefano interrupted. Beside her, she heard Ezio huff quietly. Whether from frustration or relief she could not tell. Freyja turned to face her new fidanzata with a polite smile once more as her father drew closer to the pair. She curtseyed as Ezio feathered a kiss across her knuckles once more.
"It was lovely spending time with you, signore Ezio."
"And you, bella donna."
Translations:
Mio Figlio = My son
Mia Figlia = My daughter
Fidanzata = Fiancée
Splendido = Splendid
Molto onorato = A pleasure to meet you
Signore = Sir
L'onore è mio = The honour/pleasure is mine
Fratello = Brother
AN: Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Illusions! This has been sitting in the dark corners of my computer for a long while and I decided to dust it off and let it run rampant in the fanfiction world. Reviews are, as always, much appreciated!
~R