“Bianca, hurry up!” Adellina called from the hallway. Bianca rolled her eyes. This is what she hated, being told to hurry up. She moved around her room, picking up her yellow slipper, quickly putting it on her foot, and the other yellow slipper on her other. She hurriedly tightened her dress, then quickly ran to the dresser, fixing the pearls in her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she gave a nod of approval and picked up her reticule, running outside to the carriage, joining her family. “What took you so long?” Alessandro asked. “My bethrothed could be an old woman by the time we get there, you move so slow.” Bianca’s only comeback was to stick her tongue out at him.

As soon as they got to the palazzo, Adellina fussed about her children, making sure they all looked proper. “Ma!” cried Vittorio, obviously annoyed that he had to come with them instead of staying in and reading. Bianca giggled, amused at how much her brothers hated wearing formal suits. They were received by their hosts, and were led inside the palazzo, talking about the marriage and other things. But she wasn’t interested in their conversations, she was interested in the architecture of the palazzo, and how much it looked so grand. Marble busts were scattered here in there aesthetically. “Bianca, keep up!” her father said. She did as she was told and walked alongside her father. “Why does Alessandro have to marry this woman?” she asked.

“Because her family is old and noble, just like ours and we have to have allies.”

“Allies? For what?”

“Trade. For our business, daughter.”

“Why? How will she help our business when she marries Alessandro? How is she going to benefit our family, aside from bearing children that will continue our lineage? And how-“

“You’re asking questions again.” he said.

“There’s nothing wrong with asking questions.” she said.

“Tut, tut. It is time for us to eat.” Roderigo said. It amazed Bianca how her father could listen to two things at the same time. To her, and to the father of Alessandro’s betrothed, who was droning on and on about how the marriage would be beneficial and so on.

They all sat down at the table, and the woman who was betrothed to Alessandro emerged from the door and Bianca’s eyes widened. She expected a blonde girl like her with golden ringlets and blue eyes but no, she was different and exotic. Her hair was jet black and her skin olive-toned, her eyes were clear and smiling, and her lips generous. She smiled and Alessandro quickly stood up, guiding the woman to her seat. “Oh no, not yet.” she said timidly. “I shall serve you all tonight.” she went to get the tray filled with spiced meat, and she went around serving everyone. Her brother looked smitten. Bianca tilted her head and looked at the woman and her brother curiously.

She seemed to know every whim her brother wanted, filling up his plate before he was finished, filling his cup. Bianca made an uncomfortable face. Is this what men want? To be served? To be attended to? She didn’t like it at all. She didn’t understand it at all as well. Was she going to be like this when she becomes betrothed? Staying quiet and never getting to ask questions, to fence or to explore? Bianca didn’t want that at all.

I wonder what she does when she gets up? Does she think of exploring, or doing amazing things? Or does she only figure out what to wear and how to fix her hair? I guess she studies a chicken instead of studying a book. she thought as she ate her dinner.

As they all went to the living room to rest from dinner and talk, Bianca looked at her brother and the woman, who’s name she found out from Niccolo, was Camilla. She placed her elbow on the arm rest and propped her chin on her hand.

Look at that! Before he’s even chilly she puts a log on the fire. Why does she want only to please him? Why doesn’t she want to speak her mind? I wonder if she can still learn? I hope so. I guess if you haven’t learned that much, you can soak up some more information. 

And then one moment made her forget all her musings and questions and realise something: That this woman truly loved her brother. She caught the way her eyes gleamed when her brother smiled, or when he would lightly brush his hand against hers and she would smile so brightly. It seemed as if to the both of them it didn’t matter whether she would serve to his every whim, or whether he wanted an intellectual wife or not. They were madly in love. It was as simple as that, and Bianca finally understood.

No wonder he loves her- What else could he do? If I were a man, I would too!