Words of Wisdom

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 11:17pm by Princess Royal Giana Orsini & Empress Cosima Orsini

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Imperial Palace, Rome
Timeline: Date 2371-08-13 at 1900
7715 words - 15.4 OF Standard Post Measure

ON

Chatting and socializing were the bread and butter of women’s politics at court. Especially during the long and slow summer days spent in Rio de Janeiro’s winter. Though she was in shape, Cosima had quit the beach several seasons ago, at least in public. Now the most important ladies who made up the inner-circle of her friends tended to spend their evenings drinking wine in the matchless gardens and watching the water at the coast in the distance. Occasionally, she succeeded upon one of her daughters to join the festivities and, the more wine the women drank, the less refined it became. Now, as the shadows were getting long, they started looking at their watches and were dismissed.

It had been quite a while since Giana had attended one of these gatherings much to her mother’s dismay, but her presence tonight had delighted Cosima. At least initially. While Giana was putting on a front just appropriate enough to not spark gossip, it was clear to a mother that her daughter wasn’t herself. Between feigned smiles and vapid conversation with the other women, Giana had been quite pensive. She was stylish as always and dressed for the beautiful weather in Rio - really it was gorgeous year round, but especially in what were the summer months for Rome and winter here. Her light blue dress hit just above her knee, the flutter sleeves were complemented by a pleated skirt that flounced and flipped in a cute, attractive way when she moved. Her white heels were immaculate, and her modest cleavage was amplified by the v-neck.

She said her goodbyes to their guests and when all had finally left, Giana sat back down into one of the plush chairs with another glass of wine. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up underneath her, pensive again.

When the last woman was gone, Cosima too returned to her seat right next to Giana’s and put her legs up. An attendant came and quickly refilled her glass. As soon as she settled in, she glanced at her eldest daughter.

“So glad you could join us, Giana. They were starting to fear Elana would make another appearance, poor girl.” She said, bringing the glass to her lips.

“I take it you’re keeping her trip to Mars to visit her newest boyfriend under wraps? I do hope it works out better for her than her last one.” Giana took a sip of her wine and sucked the remnants off her lips, sneering slightly. “You and papa must be so proud. High Lord of Mars.”

“Lord Price will do.” Cosima said, not sharing the glee her daughter did about the unpleasantness with Lord King. “She can be so stubborn sometimes. If she thinks we disapprove of this one, they are sure to get married. It’s a good thing I had the foresight to initiate this time, isn’t it?”

“Yes, mother, you did marvelously.” Giana rolled her eyes slightly and downed the rest of her wine, immediately motioning for a refill. “Good luck getting her to do any sort of public wedding though. She’ll just find a priest and elope and that will be that. You know she’s abysmal at being in public but has decided that somehow that makes her the best of the family.”

Giana altered her voice to mock her sister. “Look at me, I don’t use the front door or let myself be announced because I’m not like all those other royal girls.”

Immediately, she giggled and then tilted her head against the back of the chair.

It was true Elana was elusive when it came to the public, but Cosima wasn’t sure which of her daughters had given her the most grief over the years. Giana had certainly not been innocent. She decided to keep that fact to herself considering they were having a nice time.

“There are the royals that want to be royals and there are the royals who want to complain about being royals while still being royals. Dear Elana is of the second kind.” Cosima said, sipping her wine more modestly than her daughter. “You have always loved the spotlight, however.”

“You’re right on all fronts, as usual… but you brought me up to love the spotlight. That was my job.” Giana said, too tipsy to point out that Cosima really hadn’t “brought up” any of her children. It didn’t even occur to her. “Bet you and papa regret that now, dontcha?”

Giana giggled again and shifted around in her chair to try and get comfortable. “It’s fine… it’s fine. You have Paolo and Amalie and all your dreams will come true, yeah?”

“Giana, don’t do that. You’re doing very well and you’re taking your role more seriously than ever.” Cosima said with an optimistic smile. “You’ve got a lordship of your own; you’re engaged and ready to start a family. My only regret is that it took so long, really.”

Giana snorted in a laugh; unattractive, but genuine. “Family? I don’t know about that, mama. I think you’re better off waiting on Elana or Paolo.”

“What are you talking about, girl?” Her mother asked with a smirk. “A few months of engagement, a royal wedding, and several grandbabies. You’ve already started the process!”

“A few months? Oh I don’t know about that, mama. Short engagements aren’t fashionable, you know. Leave that to Elana, she loves being completely unfashionable so she can do the short engagement.” Giana waved her hand as if she were shooing the notion away. “Sacha and I…”

She drifted off, frowned a bit, and took a sip of wine.

“Hmm?” The Empress asked, noting that her daughter was censoring herself. She leaned forward slightly, the smell of the wine wafting into her nose. “Sacha and you what, dear?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Nothing, mama. Forget it.” Giana waved dismissively again and took another drink of her wine. She wasn’t really thinking straight and she regretted even hinting at anything.

The Empress looked at her daughter with an expression half-lined with annoyance. Giana had always kept her out of things and she felt she didn’t deserve it. She knew how much the girl naturally wanted to carve her own path, and figured she was worried that letting her mother in would limit her.

“We have announced the engagement, you know. The two of you grace the covers of magazines across the Empire…Sacha has been doing double-time through the talk shows, promoting the charming bad-boy image that has been selected for him…”

Cosima took another sip of her wine before lowering the glass and looking at her daughter with eyes raised.

“The family is invested…deeply invested.”

“I know the family is invested, mother.” Giana replied, scoffing and adjusting as if doing so would make her less uncomfortable, but her discomfort was in her mind not her body. “It’s fine. Everything is fine. Just forget it.”

She wasn’t sure what had momentarily possessed her in thinking her mother would actually listen and maybe offer some sympathy and actual advice. No, it was all about image and the family; she supposed in the end she understood that.

“Giana, honestly. How many glasses of wine should have poured for you before you stop this self-sacrificing silence.” her mother said, giving her a neutral expression. Giana had behaved this way since she was a pre-teen and she knew exactly what was happening in her head. “If we’re going to have a disagreement, I would at least like to know what it's about and have the opportunity to play my part in it. You can fight with me in your own head later. For now, I think it might be best if we just spoke honestly. I promise not to be upset with you.”

“I’m not disagreeing about anything. I’m saying I know the family is invested and he’s been doing everything publicly right so I should just be grateful for that.” Giana pointed out, still looking quite sour as she pulled her legs up a bit more. “Everything is going to be perfect and we’ll have sixteen babies and he will be perfectly happy and faithful and helpful and it will all just be great. For the family investment.”

“Well, it will look perfect.” Cosima said with a wince expression. She knew exactly what Giana was feeling at that moment. As for her, Antonius was the grandson of the Emperor when they married, but he had never been a very attractive man and was rather meek and agreeable. Sacha, on the other hand, could have almost anyone he wanted. Giana had met her match, and she couldn’t count on anything to keep him faithful, or good, or kind. “Everyone has to consider those…possibilities before they get married. Not just us. Talk to me, Giana. You might find I understand more than you think.”

“What is the point though? It isn’t like I can change anything now. We can’t break off the engagement and save face, so for better or worse, I guess I’ve made my bed. For love. Or whatever it is we feel when we are with each other. Maybe love of what was? I don’t know.” Giana frowned then and looked away, looking sad and tired.

“There is more than love, Giana.” Cosima said, shaking her head. “What a terrible thing to base a lifelong commitment on. You will feel many different emotions. Sometimes you will love him, sometimes you might hate him. Sometimes you might even love enough. In the end, though, it's the commitment that matters. That's…how it is with your father and me. We seem in love. Perhaps we still are. It's hard to really tell and, to be honest, it doesn't really matter.”

“Were you ever? Do you even know?” While the words could have been venomous, they simply sounded curious. “Does anyone in this family know what love actually is and looks like?”

Cosima paused, her eyebrows lifting as she took a sip of her wine yet again. She cleared her throat.

“Love for a spouse is for the common people, dear.” she said with a somewhat distant tone. “There’s no reason being too fussy about it.”

It was a non-answer which, she knew, implied the answer was no. Whatever the real answer, it was dangerous to share honestly anyway. Her husband, after all, was the Terran Emperor, and the servants were present and gossiped just like everyone.

“What does it matter? Your father is my husband; I am his wife. We have three children together and we lead an Empire. What does it matter if one gets tingling feelings when the other is near. And, even if it does matter…Sacha either loves you very much or he is a better actor than I gave him credit for.”

Giana made a face at her mothers answer, looked around and then suddenly stood. She swayed a bit on doing so given her current state, but quickly recovered and looked around at all of their servants and guards. “Okay all of you leave. Right now. Get the fuck out and away.”

The servants were so shocked by the display that they hastily complied and even the guards gave more room. She then even went so far as follow them and look around to make sure they were alone. Satisfied, she turned and looked at her mother.

“Really?” She challenged, “You really see no value in love?”

“That’s a bit more than what’s called for, I think, Giana. Really..” Cosima said with pouty frown, her full lips still signaling the beauty she knew was fading. “And I didn’t say I see no value in it, I just think focussing on it is a recipe for disaster…personally, socially, politically. You cannot love intensely forever. If you could, how would you ever get anything done?”

“I’m not saying forever, I’m saying at all!” Giana protested. “And mother I’m not even thirty years old.” She huffed a sigh.

“If you and papa didn’t even ever love each other for a moment though, it’s no wonder we are where we are I guess. Yes, we are the royal family, but mama just look at our family.” She opened her arms as if the evidence were physically there with them.

“I loved him at first. Of course I did.” Cosima said with a frown. “And he loved me. But then…Giuseppe…and suddenly he loved…not me, anymore.”

Cosima didn’t seem to experience any pain from it, or she hid it well.

“Orsini men like beautiful women. Your father and me, once; Giuseppe and Jessica; Paolo and Amalie…Paolo and that one horrid woman from the Secretariat. Countless examples. But, they like intelligence just as much. And that stays forever. Your father and I had a bumpy part..but now I can honestly say I’m happy and I love him very much. But I would stay even if I didn’t. Because that’s the job.”

Cosima quickly finished her glass of wine in a hurry, and then poured herself another with nervous energy.

“Now, just tell me what’s wrong with Sacha, dear. Stop pouting and get to it.”

“Oh gods that woman.” Giana made a face again. “You know I’m quite sure she was going to try to sleep with Paulo, and I’m not sure she would have waited even a couple more years to do it. Disgusting, really. I don’t understand why papa keeps her around. She’s quite grotesque and he claims he could replace her easily.”

She paused and seemed to ponder a very long moment, then looked at Cosima like a curious child. “Do men still like to look at giant tits even at papa’s age? Is that it?”

Cosima chuckled then and put her hand up to her mouth to keep red wine from flowing out like a fountain. Once she got herself under control again, she nodded slowly.

“I think they appreciate them, even though their days of enjoying them are past. Still, in her case, she is uniquely good at her job. Your father likes people who can be easily underestimated in some places. It gives him an advantage. I can think of no one more disarming in a high stakes negotiation that whats-her-face in half a dress. As for Paolo, I’m sure she would try. But I keep a very close eye on his whereabouts and guest lists. Still, someone should let her know I’ll pop those tits off and roll them across the garden if she touches my boy.”

Cosima shook her head, the seriousness in her tone not overriding.

“Just because a man looks and sees does not mean he loves. It’s shallow. Skin deep. See how quickly the woman was out of your brother's mind when I was done playing matchmaker.”

“Yeah until she plants those watermelon boobs in his face again. Poor Amalie doesn’t stand a chance if Cuntessa worms past your security and gets to him.” She placed her hands on her chest and pressed in - Giana wasn’t particularly gifted up top, but naturally she had more than the young Amalie at the moment.

“Maybe she will fill out in the coming years.”

“I already looked into that.” Cosima said with a dismissive wave. “She will. After all, genetics say everything about that. And if she doesn’t, the surgeries are quick, easy, and painless these days. The girl has nothing to fear. As far as Contessa goes, I’m more worried about what she could do politically. Maybe you should talk with her, dear. Put the fear of the gods into her. Poor boy.”

“Mama, do you really think I could? She has papa’s favor and thinks she is untouchable. She’s come at me a few times and I’ve dismissed her like the gnat she is. If you think she is worrisome though, why not say something to papa?” Giana asked.

“Obviously she has a vested interest in doing whatever she’s doing, but if she feels it’s likely to ruin her career or cost her her life one day, she’s less likely to risk it all.” Cosima said. “But this is all beside the point. I want to hear about your relationship.”

Giana pursed her lips slightly at her mother ducking out of the topic, then considered the next one herself. Her expression grew increasingly sour and then she suddenly was up again, but instead of walking off, she took the two steps over to Cosima’s lounge chair and slid into it with her mother, forcing Cosima to move so they could squish together on it. It was a picture of a mother and daughter who loved each other and were close - that could talk and tell each other anything. In reality, Giana just wanted to be able to speak very quietly to her mother in case anyone else was still trying to listen.

“Weeks back just before your garden party that I brought Sacha to, I asked him to come to my private apartment. I wanted to tell him everything about what Giuseppe had done to me because… I don’t know. I guess he deserved to know in case he didn’t want to be with me anymore because of what happened, but I also needed to tell him about my agreement with papa for my support for Paolo.” Even now, Giana started to frown, sadness creeping in.

“I wasn’t really sure where to start, but I was nervous so I started with telling him about my being the new Lady of the Northern Dominion and Crown Princess until Paolo and Amalie have a child or Paolo inevitably removes that from me when he becomes Emperor and…”

She stopped, collecting herself, her beautiful blue eyes moving back and forth. She was the only one of Cosima’s children to have Antonius’ beautiful blue eyes.

“We fought. He wants me to be a forgettable, middling princess. He didn’t want me to take the title, hells, he’d probably prefer I throw the whole life away.” She fought to keep her voice low as her emotions built again. Processing things wasn’t for the Orsini after all. They locked it all away and ignored their problems and feelings. But every so often they got out again.

“I told him that wasn’t me and he always knew that. Then he came at me for the Crown Princess thing… and told me to my face that he thinks Elana would be a better Empress than I would and that I should just give everything to her now.”

“Then he went and pouted on my couch as if somehow I’d said the offensive thing, then started spouting off how he deserves to be a man and the man and not have to be a supportive husband or… whatever. Then he said in the end he doesn’t care because he wants to be with me, but that I won’t be truly fulfilled being at the top. I told him that I was doing it for stability and legacy, and then he said that’s what women have husbands for and then asked me if he was supposed to be the woman in the arrangement.”

Giana continued to ramble. “I told him that I wasn’t going to be the helpless wife always looking to the husband with wide eyes and sitting at his feet looking for leadership. You know what he said? That I should pretend to do that for him more than I do. Then he spouted off some nonsense about being the head of the house and our children having his last name which would have happened anyways so I really don’t know what he was getting at there. I don’t know why he’s so insecure.”

Then she stopped and became very still, the annoyance and sourness evaporated, and it was suddenly replaced by a genuine and deep pain brought on by too much wine and weeks of denial. She was so quiet, so distant, her expression leaving the impression of the silence that happened when a needle was pulled up from a playing record.

“We… we kind of moved on after that and I… ended up telling him everything about what Giuseppe did. He cried a bit, I don’t know if he was sad or angry. He asked why I didn’t tell him about it when it happened and well it was because he would have killed Giuseppe and then papa would have killed him. Honestly he… he didn’t really respond. He just asked about us and what was next for us. I was going to tell him about papa giving us permission for the engagement but… I don’t know mama. Something stopped me in the moment; maybe my latent good sense. Maybe he picked up on it, I don’t know.”

Very suddenly, she started to cry, tears pouring from her eyes as if water breaching a dam. “But I was still in tears and crying, he didn’t even try to comfort me, it was just ‘what about us’, we figured it out, then he announced he was leaving to go to some sort of meeting. After I poured all of that out and really just needed him, he decided he just had to go. I didn’t even try to stop him. Even I - emotionally shitty me - know that leaving someone who just opened themselves up to you about that… that kind of thing you don’t just get up, stretch, and say see you later.”

Now, she was sobbing. “I… I don’t know where he went, and I don’t know that I really want to. But… but why did he leave me, mama? I really wanted him. I needed him, I needed his comfort and assurance and he just… he just left me there to deal with it all alone again.”

Giana looked into her mother’s eyes. A little girl searching for answers to her question but at the same time, the comfort of her mother after being wounded so very badly. Her face was red and splotchy, but there Cosima would see her firstborn daughter, the once sweet little girl, in so much pain. “He made me feel so ashamed. Why… why did he leave?”



When Giana came to join her on her sofa, the Empress sat up and folded her legs underneath her body. Despite the fact she was in her mid 50s, almost 20 years younger than her husband, she had a wisdom that seemed very advanced beyond her years. She had listened to Giana very intently, never allowing her focus to waver as her brown eyes studied the splotchy face of her daughter. She may have used a wet nurse and a nanny, but she never outsourced conversations.

She noticed that her daughter had spent her twenties dating men who were beneath her, and who wasn’t. They were objects to be used and changed as often as she changed her shoes. This would be different. She loved Sacha, meaning he would have more power than any of the others over her.

“Oh, Giana. I’m so sorry.” She said, her low alto voice warm and slowly as her arm found her daughter’s back. She rubbed it gently. “It must have been so hard to tell him about that terrible..terrible thing that happened to you and, to have him respond like that, must have…made you feel worthless.”

She didn’t wait for a response, but sat there for a moment in it, her mind moving to help Giana.

“But if I’ve learned anything from 37 years of marriage to one of the most aloof men I’ve ever met is that a man is a more complex creature than we give them credit for. If they care about you, they want to lead you, and protect you, and love you, and have you trust them. Even when you have more power than them; even when you have bodyguards; even when you can't trust others anymore.”

“Your grandfather was the Lord Mayor of Florence. Gods, he was handsome, confident, and charming. And, of course, I thought my papa could do anything.” She paused for a moment, hesitating, and then pressed on before she lost her nerve. “When I was 16 years old, I went to a party with a few girlfriends that he specifically told me not to go to. There was a boy there who took an interest in me. We talked, we laughed, we flirted. I got a little drunk and went to a room with him. It was stupid. I was stupid. And, when I remembered who I was and said no, it was too late.”

Cosima swallowed hard and looked at her daughter.

“When my father learned I had gone to the party, he was furious with me. He yelled at me for the first time in my life. He told me how disappointed he was in me, and I felt...more worthless than the night before. He told me he had prevailed upon Iosephus for a marriage to his grandson. He was determined that, one day, I would be the Empress. When he told me this, he expected me to be excited, but I just burst into tears. I was…defiled, in my mind. Why would a Grand Duke want me?”

Cosima sighed, leaning back then and forgetting her glass of wine on a nearby table.

“When I told Papa what happened to me the night before, he told me that I shouldn’t worry. That he was sure we could keep it a secret until after the wedding.” She said, then met Giana’s eyes. “That was a terrible thing to say, and it took me years to recover and to forgive him. But I know now that my father…didn’t understand what I needed in that moment . He was trying to fix my future. He loved me very much.”

“Men want to do for us, but they don’t always know what we need or want; hells, we don’t know what we need or want half the time, and we sometimes expect them to figure it out. Sacha was wrong for leaving you, but don’t you think he probably had no idea what to say or do? It’s obvious to us what should have been done…but that’s because we understand.”

Giana had calmed and quieted enough from her outburst to listen to her mother, and by the looks of it she was actively, earnestly listening. She was well past the point in her life that she was trying to find a path - any path - that would give her the love and validation that she wanted so desperately, but every step she had taken had simply made her feel more lost and insecure.

When her mother shared her own story of trauma, Giana was shocked to say the least and even found herself reaching out and placing a hand on her mother’s forearm, rubbing her there slightly as if to offer a mirror of the comfort she had given to Giana moments before. It didn’t even once occur to her that her mother could be telling her a blatant lie whereas any other day she might have been suspicious.

When Cosima had finished, she was quiet for a moment, thinking, and then spoke. “If he didn’t know what to do, why didn’t he just ask? Why couldn’t he have asked if I needed anything or needed him?”

“Well I wasn’t there, dear. I didn’t hear the rest of your conversation, but it didn’t sound like you were getting along very well before that, and if he was concerned about you being powerful, independent, and ambitious, maybe you needing his help was the last thing from his mind.”

Cosima gave a sad smile.

“As a woman who is only powerful because her husband is powerful, I can tell you it goes much smoother when things are good. I’m not sure I could respect a man who lived in my house and under my authority. I’m not sure I would trust a man who liked the idea very much either. The leader always takes the flack in the end; the person that gets blamed. So, I suppose my question is this: do you really want to pay the cost of being the boss with Sacha? If so, then my best advice is to get over this feeling and comfort yourself. If not…perhaps you should look past the way his fears make you feel and really consider them.”

“But I don’t want to be the boss of him.” Giana protested, frustrated. “I don’t know why everyone seems to insist I want to be the boss of him. At the same time though, how am I supposed to make this work? I outrank him in every way. I am Princess Royal and a Dominion Lady. He is to be my husband - the husband of the Princess Royal and Dominion Lady. He doesn’t want titles or to live this life; he will live the life, he’s willing, but I don’t know what to do. I feel like he is just going to be miserable in the end and hate everything and eventually that will extend to me. I don’t know how to make him feel like a man and a leader when the world won’t ever see him as more than my husband.”

“Well, what do you think a husband is?” Cosima asked simply, putting a finger to her lips and raising an eyebrow.

Giana began to answer and then suddenly stopped, realizing that she didn’t have an answer to that question readily available. She thought for a moment and then looked into her mother’s eyes. “A protector and provider, one who makes all of the decisions based off what he wants to do and perhaps if he is feeling generous, he might ask for input from his wife. Which is usually disregarded.”

“Well, no wonder he is feeling threatened.” Cosima said, leaning back and grinning again. She picked up her wine glass and sipped for the first time in a while.

“Why, what do you mean?” Giana asked, frowning and immediately looking frustrated.

Cosima blinked, surprised her daughter hadn’t put it together on her own.

“If that’s what you think a husband is, then how can you really think you respect and trust him? You’re afraid he would be like that, aren’t you? Like the idea you have of your father.” Cosima shook her head. “Well you couldn’t have picked a more different man.”

Giana was growing increasingly frustrated, but to her credit she was trying to keep a hold of it. “But that’s what he wants. He wants me to sit at his feet and rely on him for everything and get all of my purpose and fulfillment from him.”

“Is that what he said?” Cosima asked with a questioning expression. “That doesn’t sound like Sacha. He wants you to sit at his feet? He wants you to quit everything but him?”

“When I told him that I wasn’t the type of woman who would look up to him with big blue eyes and tell him that he was my everything and only, he said I should pretend I was.” Giana pointed out again. “So yeah, pretty sure he feels like I should be doing that because he’s the man and that’s what women do for men.”

“They do sometimes.” Cosima said. “I do that for your father at times, when it’s appropriate. It makes him very happy. But all that is happening, in the end, is that I’m making him feel strong and trusted. Men love that at times. Surely you understand that, Giana. But, maybe I’m wrong and you’re right. Maybe he’s a pig who only wants to control you.”

“I don’t mind doing it sometimes because he is special to me, I do love him, but it feels like that’s all he wants me to do. He doesn’t want me to strive to be memorable and be powerful, he just wants me to exist and exist with him and that’s all.” Giana frowned. “That just… that isn’t who I am.”

“So he wants to live a simple life with you?” Cosima asked, still trying to understand the situation around Giana’s own perspective. This story didn’t make much sense as presented and she would like to understand what was complicating her daughter’s engagement. “That’s a bit…convention for Sacha, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, he does, he’s never wanted to be in the spotlight and he doesn’t like me being in the spotlight. He’d rather live out of the public eye and just… be nothing; but I’m the daughter of the Emperor and - gods and heavens and everything forbid - two breaths away from the Imperial Throne. I would never be nothing.” Giana frowned. “Like I said, mama… I really do love him and I’m really just afraid he’s going to be miserable in the end. I don’t want that for him and I don’t want that for me.”

“Have you brought that up with him?” Cosima asked, again posing a simple question.

“Many times, he insists he still wants to be with me but…” Giana shook her head. “I don’t know, mama. I feel it in my soul.”

Cosima sighed.

“Well, if you don’t believe him, then maybe you should find someone you can believe.” The statement was laced with defeat. She was losing hope Giana would ever be able to pull this part of her life together. It was the syndrome of the arraigned father and daughter relationship that she would just keep pushing away anyone who made her happy. “But, and I don’t say this to upset you, you will find an excuse to lose them too.”

“I just don’t want him to hate me. I don’t want him to resent me or my life. I really do love him, mama, and I want to make it work I just don’t know how.” Giana explained and looked at her mother again, searching her eyes.

“I understand, dear.” Cosima said, extending her hand and putting it on Giana’s. “But you have to calm down. You cannot control him or make him feel the way you want him to. You can only be you. He’s been very clear for years that he loves you. He’s an adult, if he wants to be elsewhere, he can choose to do just that. But I see now that you are afraid. Fear will kill your relationship; not some future unhappiness.”

Giana was quiet, thinking. Eventually she did speak, and she did so with the tone of a curious child. “What is a husband?”

Cosima thought about the answer for a few moments, moving her fingers slowly around the edge of her glass. She thought about her husband and then her father.

“A protector and provider, as you said. One who has a desire to take responsibility for everything in their marriage and in their family. A husband is meant to love his wife to the point of giving up his life to protect her, if necessary. The thing these common girls have long forgotten, it seems, is that this is a pretty bad deal for a man unless he has authority. Without authority, a man won’t want to be anything more than a boyfriend.”

She sipped her wine then and sighed.

“I remember the only time I ever saw my papa use violence; he was a very gentle man. My parents and I were walking a rope line in Florence to greet people, and this haggard-looking man grabbed my mother’s arm and wouldn’t let go. I could tell she was in pain and the man had this smile on his face I can still remember to this day. We had security, but they were necessary in that situation. My papa surged toward the man and, putting himself between the two of them, hit him square between his eyes.”

She looked at Giana now, raising her brow.

“In that moment, it mattered that my papa was stronger than my mother. It mattered that, in that moment he knew he was responsible for her safety and well-being. They later found the man had a phaser set to kill in his hand.”

Cosima moved closer to Giana, as if she had some secret to share with her.

“Do you know what the really sad thing about our…situation is to me? You kids blame your father for everything that has ever happened to you. You have some idea that he is ultimately responsible and powerful…but I made most of those decisions. I decided where you would live during education; I decided your range of tutors. I arrange your relationships and outings. That was my job, and no one blames me. But I do.. And your father never breathes a word about it. He never tells people it was me all along…he just takes responsibility for it and tries to make it right. Sure he’s not perfect and he has also made countless mistakes, but still.”

The older woman gave a sad expression, one full of guilt and pain. She didn’t often let that slip, but it had for that instant. Immediately, she forced it back and swallowed hard, regretting having so much wine thusfar for a second.

For a long moment Giana just stared at her mother; there wasn’t any anger in the expression in the slightest, in fact she seemed almost confused by the admission and was trying to make sense of what had been said. It was clearly a struggle. If she had been sober, she might have been able to put it together but after a moment longer she just sighed. Shifting around, she cuddled up close to Cosima, placing her head on her mother’s shoulder and a hand on the opposite one.

“M’sorry we turned out to be such failures, ma. At least you have Paolo. He’s a good boy.” Giana closed her eyes. The words typically spoken about her little brother lacked the accusation and venom that more often than not were present, instead there was a strange kind of quiet acceptance and resignation.

For a few seconds, Cosima didn’t respond, simply putting her arm around Giana. This closeness had been a rare occurrence with anyone but Paolo for years. She knew that she hadn’t been close by the others, but she had always been very active as far as royal mothers went. Things would have been fine if it hadn’t been for Giuseppe’s abuse. Then, all at once, the wine began to complete its work.

“It’s all my fault..” Cosima said, her brown eyes staring into a well-groomed shrub’s side as they filled with tears. “I should have seen what was happening..”

Giana’s hand lifted and she gently pat Cosima’s shoulder as if to comfort her mother while she too was being comforted. “S’fine, mama. I’m sure you did your best.”

“No, Giana. I didn’t!” She said, beginning to shake from the powerful emotions. “I should have been there. I should have been with you. I should have known something was wrong!”

“Maybe.” Giana agreed, her voice sounding tired. “But you weren’t… you’re here now though.”

“That’s not enough though. Giuseppe’s in jail…you can’t find a shred of happiness. Elana is…Elana.” Cosima said, shaking her head. “It’s not enough to just be here now.”

Lifting her head, Giana looked at Cosima and frowned. “Well… what else is there at this point though? We can’t go back and change anything.”

Cosima sighed, willing herself to stop crying, and not quite succeeding. It was strange to have her daughter, comforting her for once, as their relationship had typically been substantially one-sided.

“You are right, of course. There’s not much that can be done about the past.” She turned her red and teary gaze to her daughter and frowned. “I am sorry, though. I’m very sorry I wasn’t there when I should have been. Your mother should’ve been there. I feel responsible for your unhappiness.”

An awkward nod was the only thing Giana could think of to respond with. Had she been sober, maybe she would have harped on the point more, but she wasn’t sober. “Wasn’t just you though, mama. Papa is… papa is my father. He should have been there too, Emperor or not. It’s done now, though and I just… I just want to be happy. I just want to move forward and try to repair some of the damage if we can.”

“Maybe it is gonna be too late for it, I don’t know. What else can we do but try?”

Cosima thought about Giana’s words. At least Antonius had an excuse that sounded reasonable. He was ruling the Empire. What was she doing besides sitting and chatting with women, drinking wine, and ordering new dresses to send to her daughters on the other side of the planet? She kept it to herself, though.

“I’m willing to try, dear. I’m glad you are too. You were very angry for a long time.”

Giana thought for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped. “I’m still angry, I think… but I’m also just… I’m just really tired, mama. I’m tired of fighting. I just want to be happy and I just want someone, anyone in the world to love me.”

“I love you. And your father and Paolo. I’ll be very honest, I’m not sure if Giuseppe can love…and Elana is a mystery as far as you’re concerned.” Cosima said, and looked at her meaningfully. “But I’ve never seen a man as crazy for you as Sacha has been. I think you should keep trying and trust him. I don’t think he would do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

“Well, maybe my brother and I have that in common.” Giana pointed out morosely and frowned. “As for Sacha… I know he likely wouldn’t, but sometimes he and I… well, it’s like we never grew up I guess.”

“Well, Antonius sent him to the other side of the Empire for love of you. Maybe he hasn’t learned his lessons. But I think you have both grown up indeed. It’s why you're so miserable right now.” she said with a sigh. “If you were teenagers, you would be happy. You’re living a teenage dream. But he doesn’t believe in love like you used to and you’re not as fun as you used to be by a longshot. I say this the kindest way I can: welcome to aging. Believe it or not, your father used to be quite the charmer, and I was a romantic. Now look at us. Old, tired. But not as unhappy as you, Giana.”

She placed a hand on her daughter's face now and the sorrow could be seen in her eyes.

“Try where it counts, Giana. And sometimes, we have to pretend for a while.”

“But mama… we aren’t even thirty. We are still young in the grand scheme of things… it shouldn’t be like this already. Should it?” Giana protested, whining slightly.

“No, dear.” Cosima said with a chuckle then, moving past her tears for a while. “You’re making something big out of something very small. But I understand. You are two young people who love each other very much. Keep telling yourself that. The rest will ruin you.”

“I’ll try.” Giana said in a tone that sounded akin to almost a promise. She closed her eyes as Cosima stroked her face, accepting the moment of motherly affection without hesitation.

“Good, now we should get to bed. Tomorrow is your father’s birthday and I’m actually going to cook for once to celebrate it before he’s surrounded by sycophants.”Cosima said, standing up. “But, if I’m cooking, it very well may be his last birthday.”

“Ummm… are you sure that’s a good idea, mama?” Giana asked, finding that entire concept quite dubious. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had cooked… had she ever cooked?

“What, you don’t think I can cook?” She asked with a great frown. “In most Italian homes, your doubt would be grounds from execution, girl.”

“Mmm…..” Giana closed one eye and used the other to eye Cosima suspiciously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook.”

“Being the Empress of the Terrans puts a damper on dinner plans.” Cosima said, touching her chest as if offended. “But I’ll show you just how well I can tomorrow morning. Come hungry, Giana.”

“Okay, mama.” Giana replied and stood up slowly. She looked around, confused by the lack of servants and then remembered she had sent them all away. “Well goodnight then. I will see you in the morning.”

She’d have to remember to tell Sacha to not come on a completely empty stomach.

END