The Bitter Pill I

Posted on Sat Dec 3rd, 2022 @ 7:52am by Princess Royal Giana Orsini & Emperor Antonius VI
Edited on on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 7:15pm

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Bella Gia Headquarters, NY
Timeline: Date 2371-07-11 at 2200
4045 words - 8.1 OF Standard Post Measure

ON

It would have likely been shocking to anyone to see Princess Giana Orsini pulling a late night working of all things. Most would assume she was someone who slept ten hours cradled in silk sheets with a mask on and only emerged for social engagements. That had never been true, but it was the image that had always been curated for her and was also part of the reason she was here alone save for the imperial guard detail assigned to her; nobody was supposed to know she was here. She was standing in her office, her large desk full of open portfolios and physical papers with various designs painstakingly drawn on them. Two guards were inside the office with her but stood unseen shadows in the corners. Her attending lady was sitting at the side of the room being unobtrusive but ready to heel at any command given to her.

Giana's heels had come off and her hair was down. She had even changed into a more comfortable outfit of black silk pants and a dark navy chiffon top. On a table next to the desk and well away from the papers was a barely picked at sandwich and water. Her attention was solely focused on what she was doing, but the focus was born from a desire to push everything else out of her mind rather than actually wanting to work. Of course there was the family drama that always plagued her, but now she had also received word that Edward was missing in action. While she may have (for the moment) chosen Sacha, that didn't remove the history and feelings she had with Edward. She was worried and saddened by the news - she knew that those who went MIA were generally lost forever. Her right hand moved up to her left thumb where she was now wearing his class ring he had left with her and she twisted it absently while looking at two dress sketches before her.

Everything was quiet outside the quietly playing symphony being pumped through the office. One of her father's pieces. She loved his music though she had never told him that. He would have just brushed her off anyways. Sighing, she picked up one of the dress sketches and looked at it more closely.

It had been a week since Paolo had sought her blessing and support in his sim to claim the crown their father had designated for him; a week since he’d left her apartments in tears. It hadn’t taken long for Antonius to notice his son’s sadness and had cornered the boy to make him confess what had happened to him. The Emperor had spent most of the time angry with his eldest daughter. She’d always been cruel to the boy, they all had been, but now it was a matter of politics. And for their family, politics was life. He spent many days calming himself.

Bella Gia was locked down, but this was hardly an obstacle for him. The Imperial Guard had done little more than to suggest that the princess wanted to be alone. When even that meek warning was ignored, they showed him inside. As he approached her office, he heard the music, so familiar as it had come from his own soul’s speech. He danced through the door, rather than walked; he was always floating on a cloud when music was playing.

“From my fourth symphony.” He commented, a hint of surprise in his voice as he took to humming the tune.

Immediately, Giana startled and reflexively slapped the desk. The music shut off. Her eyes were wide and she had gone pale; she looked up at her father with fear. Out of all of his children, Giana was the one who feared him and for good reason. She knew the monster underneath it all. She quickly waved her maid out of the room and the woman was all too pleased to go. Taking a deep breath, Giana closed her eyes to steady herself for whatever was to come.

Was he here to take all of this from her? Tell her he was sending away Sacha? Maybe he would just skip the humiliation and pain and just kill her.

"Hello, father." She greeted, her voice sounding unusually tired and distant. "Did I... miss a request for a summons?"

"No, you didn't. I'm sure your schedulers wouldn't have allowed that one, hmm?" he said, moving closer to her, but not stepping into her bubble. He knew his daughter was scared of him. He wasn't stupid. "I wanted to see your work. So far, I've only read the papers in my government box on your progress and some editorials and headlines in the news. How are you finding things so far in the...corporate environment?"

He looked around, observing the office as if he were in a museum.

Reflexively she took a step back as he approached and frowned as he turned his attention to her work. Rip it up? "It isn't without its challenges. Working with the common people is a delicate thing, I am learning."

She didn't know what else to say; she didn't want to trigger some sort of fight. She just wanted him to get to the point already and not drag whatever it was out.

"Those are important lessons." he said with a smile, trying to act normal in hopes of balancing out her weirdness. "One can be imperial without being imperious, after all. Those we rule have lives and concerns which we must consider and protect. You're a very very important part of that family mission."

Giana's concerned expression immediately soured, though only slightly. Now came the threats, she was sure. "I suppose I am now." She noted, unable to keep the sour note out of her voice. Precisely zero interest had been shown in her goals and life up until the point where he had named Paolo crown prince, and now suddenly everyone wanted Gigi.

"Now?" Antonius asked, offering her a confused expression. "You have been since you were 14, Giana. All of this..." he gestured to the room at large, his eyes falling on the window and the New York Skyline outside. "Is a result of your hard work, your focus, your talent...and, admittedly, a bit of nudging from my government."

"Really? I do recall just several weeks past you were telling me that what I did meant nothing and it was only by your grace that I am what I am. That I have no work ethic, focus, talent... and all the nudging from your government." Giana just looked at him now and crossed her arms like she would when she was being a sassy little girl. It was much less cute now though. She didn't buy this for a moment.

"Well, you defy the law of noncontradiction, Giana." Antonius said with a shrug. "What can I say? You are talented, and you're suddenly showing much more work ethic and focus."

He leaned in then, his eyes meeting her defiant face, pointed and rhetorical.

"But have you not seen a thousand talented girls with nothing to show?" she asked, reaching forward and grabbing her gently by the arms. He offered a smile, calm and unforced. "We work together; you dream dreams, I tell people to care about those dreams. We need each other. And what's more, your family needs you for something else."

He knew she would never budge until he got to the point. Asking her questions about her life, her goals, and her feelings would have been pointless. Giana was buttoned up tight, only to be loosened potentially after an unpleasant, protracted argument. They'd been down this road a thousand times before.

When he grabbed her by the arms, Giana tensed and did not lower them. His smile was met with a stony look. The words were beautiful, but she knew they were conniving. "Your sudden recognition of my talents seems very... convenient, Father." She said dryly, unimpressed.

"Nothing about us is convenient, Giana." he said, still not unpleasant or judgmental. He released his hands, giving her what she wanted. "When I compliment you, you think me a liar. When I threaten you, you think me a brute, and when I offer to make deals with you, you think even worse things. I admit I don't understand why, or what I've done to earn your mistrust to this degree. I think what I want is..obvious, and not at all nefarious."

"You want my support for Paolo." She supplied what he wouldn't say directly. "I offered my potential support to my brother, but I wanted to have a conversation about what that would get me. He threw a fit and stormed out of my room in tears like a child because I wouldn't just do it for him out of sisterly love."

"Paolo is a child." Antonius countered. "Can you really be surprised he acted like one in front of one of the very few people he should be able to be vulnerable with?"

She had no idea what it meant to be in ultimate command, or to even stand in the shadow of the Imperial Throne. It was immense pressure, and he knew better than anyone how dreadfully lonely it could be. The anger he had experienced at Paolo's obvious hurt had started to spark and could be seen in his eyes, though his tone was cool as was his demeanor. He was upset with his daughter for not using the past week to find the error in her response. But he had promised himself he wouldn't lose his temper with her.

"Paolo is Crown Prince." Giana replied with surprising firmness. "You robbed him of being able to use his age for an excuse when you gave him that title. You put that burden on his shoulders without a thought for his age or what would become of him with that." Her expression hardened. "Vulnerable with me? Why? Because I am his sister? Because I'm supposed to love him? I don't even know what that is and I told him that honestly. But I also told him that I didn't need to love him to help him and that all he had to do was talk to me. He couldn't handle the truth when it was given to him freely. At least I don't try to hide that fact like some people."

Antonius closed his eyes. Her response had been so sudden and of a kind so offensive to him that he hadn't sufficiently steeled himself for it. No one ever talked back to him, and he hardly had the tools to deal with it calmly considering that. He was the Emperor. When he told people to jump, they asked how high. He didn't believe himself morally superior to others, yet still he understood he was due incredible respect.

"I am shocked by your cruelty, girl. I am shocked." he said, his fist balling up, but he managed to keep himself from having some bout of explosive anger. "For a boy who keeps his composure at almost all times, who is obedient, and kind, and very forgiving of people like you.." he lifted his finger to her and shook it at her accusingly, his eyes narrowed. "I would think you would feel some responsibility toward him outside of self benefit. Are you a creature merely worried about your own interests? Is there nothing good in you but malice and resentment?"

He had rather gone the other way from being angry.

"Healthy people love others, Giana. They....they care about others. They do things for people out of concern, to please them. By the Gods, I can't figure out what is so damned wrong with your life that you cannot identify the definition of love."

"I learned love from my dear papa." Giana replied icily, her blue eyes darkening. "Tell me, papa, when I was little, I did everything asked of me. Everything. Happily. Yet it was never enough for you. I was never interesting enough or studious enough or whatever enough for you even though you directed everything in my life. I was nothing but a nuisance to you. How can you stand there and say you are surprised by what I am when this is what you made me into?"

"You weren't enough for me? What?" He asked, exasperated, attempting to moderate his volume, as he found this kind of emotional talk particularly frustrating. "What in Hades makes you think that?"

"What about this is confusing to you? Are you just... what is wrong with you?!" She finally asked incredulously, her voice raising in frustration. "Do you stand there and say as a child I didn't worship the ground you walked on, that I didn't love you? That I didn't do everything you asked from me with my education and studies? That it was only when Paolo was born that you lost interest?" She paused and then something seemed to dawn on her and all of a sudden all her anger went away and was replaced by deep, pure pain.

"Gods... father... Do you blame... blame me for what Guiseppe was doing? Is that why you never...?"

"Yes, you worship the ground I walked on, yes!" he exclaimed, finally losing control of his volume but not his temper. "And what little girl doesn't love her father? And what father doesn't adore his daughter? You were my first little girl, my heart. I used to get back to the Royal Apartment after a day's work and spend an hour tossing you in the air and tickling you. I would carry you to bed and check the closet for monsters, and tell you every day how much I loved you. So yes! I am confused why you think I lost interest in you. You lost interest in me."

He took a deep breath, his face falling into a frown, his voice lowering again.

"You were the age Paolo is now when he was born, and you were changing. You withdrew suddenly....you didn't want to play games anymore. You had an attitude; you were mean. I didn't want to push you away further, so I just left you alone...I'm not sure if that was right but..." he paused then, having just recognized something she had said. "Wait...blame you for something Giuseppe was doing? Why would I blame you? What was he doing?"

"What do you mean what was he doing? You knew exactly what he was doing and you did nothing!" The anger was back in an instant, seething, boiling. She actually looked like she might even hit him and her fists balled. "How dare you look me in the eye and ask me that! You are the Emperor! You expect me to believe you don't know?!"

Antonius was sobered by her reaction. He was confused, of course, but what stopped him in his tracks was, for the first time, he understood his daughter wasn't just mean and nasty. He saw that something was wrong, and he was fairly sure it was related to this. He was silent for a while, so long that it left her shaking and angry in a complete void of response from him for nearly twenty seconds, an eternity. He parted his lips then, but no sound came out.

"I...I really don't know, Giana." he said, quietly, but not meekly. "Please, just tell me. I really don't know."

Giana screamed in frustration and turned, flipping her desk over which was no easy feat considering the make of that desk. Papers and portfolios went flying and the loud slam brought the guards racing in. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" She screeched and, even with Antonius there, they were so caught off guard by the outburst from the princess, they immediately complied with her.

She collapsed back into the chair which rolled about three feet away but she didn't try to stop it. She simply crumpled and began to sob violently into her hands.

Antonius watched the scene with wide eyes, never saying a word, but seeing the depth of Giana's instability in full display. It was a child's tantrum writ large, and he endured it with a certain poise, like he was waiting through a storm. His face indicated he was disturbed by it, but still he merely stood and watched her as she sobbed in the chair. To his credit, he exercised extraordinary patience, waiting just outside her "bubble" for quite a while as she wept for her to collect herself.

It took a few moments, but Giana did eventually calm and reached up to wipe her eyes. She took a sip of her water and then stood with remarkable poise. Of course her blotchy face and watery eyes betrayed her, but otherwise she was acting like absolutely nothing had happened, the picture of grace like she had always been told to be. She stared at Antonius for a long moment as if deciding what she was going to do, and then finally spoke.

"Giuseppe abused me for roughly six years of my life, father." She said it simply, her voice terse, but her composure regained for the moment.

Antonius hadn't suspected as much and he certainly showed it. His jaw dropped and his brows raised in surprise, a display rather undignified which seemed unnatural on his face.

"What do you mean 'abuse', Giana?" he asked. His voice was quiet; fearful of the answer.

Giana looked away then, worrying Edward’s ring on her thumb absently. This was a very uncomfortable subject for her in the first place, but to be discussing it with her father? She could barely form the words. "It... started small. He would pinch me so hard it left bruises. Shove me, trip me... then he would hit me, make me say I fell. Do you remember when I broke my arm playing? I wasn't playing. Giuseppe pinned me to the floor and stomped on it until it broke." She licked her lips and took a slow breath, trying to find the words to make it more comfortable. "When I got older he would start to do other... things."

"Other things?" he asked, cuing in on the hint and not daring to leave anything unsaid between them, especially considering how that went for the past 14 years. "Like what?"

“Inappropriate things…” She swallowed hard and finally met his gaze, silently pleading with him to not make her say the words.

Antonius looked at her, the shock on has softened a bit and turned into something which couldn't be immediately identified. And then the unthinkable happened. The Emperor's face turned to an expression of the most intense and genuine pain and sadness and, before she would have been able to register, his hand was covering his face and he was openly weeping. The hand was for her benefit, for he wasn't shy about the cry. He didn't double over or completely lose himself as she had, but his ragged breathing was loud enough that there would be no uncertainty about what was happening.

Giana was torn and shifted awkwardly as she watched the display Antonius was putting on. The part of her that loved him - buried so deeply under so much trauma and lies - wanted to go to him and put her arms around him, cry with him. The reality of her now questioned if this was just another play to try and get what he wanted from her. What if he really hadn't known, though? The very notion seemed impossible. He was really acting like this was a surprise to him. So maybe...

She licked her dry lips and stiffly moved over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder and then her forehead on her hand. Her voice was soft, trembling. "He hurt me, Papa."

And Papa had failed her.

He grabbed her in an instant, pulling her into a full hug and holding her tight, his wet face meeting hers as another bout of tears flowed from his face. He had certainly never shown such acting ability, so the idea at this point that he wasn't truly grief stricken would seem utterly ridiculous. His hand found her hair, which he straightened even as he tried, metaphorically, to straighten her out.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her quietly, sniffling like a very common man.

"Wha-" She stopped herself and seemed to realize fully in that instant maybe she wasn't the only one who had been betrayed. "We... we were always told never to bother you with any issues that we had. Elana and I especially. I told our nannies and governesses... they always said they would tell you and that you would handle it how you saw fit. I just..." Giana frowned and took a shuddering breath. "I just thought you didn't care... that Giuseppe was more important to you because he was your boy and I'm just a girl and we aren't good for anything but marriage alliances."

"I learned about those lying witches a few weeks ago from Elana." he said, pulling his head back and looking into her eyes. Their tears and splotchy complexions matched now. "I called Director Sharp and had the lot of them taken in for questioning. The reports say they confess to teaching the two of you the virtues of humility and that the boys took precedence, but none of them...none of them reported this."

He looked at her more seriously, something seeming to change in his mind as his expression hardened.

"Giuseppe is a brute and an ill-bred man, unfit for the throne...unfit for this world. That is why I supplanted him. Not to exalt Paolo, but to separate him from power. He is not worthy to rule....but this..." he paused then, his mind trailing off and then returning again. "If he hurt you through his actions, and they hurt you through their inaction, how shall I hurt them?"

It was a terrifying query, and not one made with the intention of receiving an answer.

Giana didn't pull away from his hold on her, in fact she leaned into it as if she were seeking his comfort. "I don't know." She responded quietly, feeling very drained. She wanted to point out he always exalted Paolo above the rest, even before he knew Giuseppe's true face, but where would that get her in the end? There was no point. He would never see his favoritism for his youngest and maybe... it just didn't matter anymore.

It was too late to change anything now.

Antonius pulled away from her then, crossing the room and walking over to the door. Before he got there, his aide opened the door.

“Get Sharp, Nadiya Singh, and the Imperial Chancellor into my office in Imperial Tower in the next half hour. I’ll brief them when I arrive.” He said, and with the order given, he returned to his daughter. This time he looked at her squarely.

“I’m sorry, Giana. I should have known. I shouldn’t have given up on you and kept trying to figure out what was wrong. I failed to protect you, and that wasn’t fair.” He said, stepping up and grabbing her hands. “Can you please forgive me?”

Giana frowned slightly, looking into her father's eyes with hurt still in her own. "I... will try, papa. It will take time." She admitted honestly, at least giving him that instead of promises of yes that simply just... weren't Giana anymore - at least not the Giana near the surface. His sweet girl was long gone.

"Just um... here... sit down." She said and indicated to her chair.

He looked at the chair, but confused, but went along with her request, walking to it and lowering himself down into it. He was wearing a pair of blue slacks and a white checkered dress shirt that only showed his wealth and position with the fine quality of the material. He looked up at her and waited for her next move.

TBC