Contrition

Posted on Sun Oct 1st, 2023 @ 5:00am by Princess Royal Giana Orsini & Emperor Antonius VI

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: The Pyramid
Timeline: Date 2371-08-18 at 2130
1931 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure

The mountain escape with Sacha had given her a much needed break from everything and had actually even provided a bit of clarity to Giana thanks to Sacha leading her to consider something she hadn’t before. Of course, their fun had come to an end and they found themselves back at the Pyramid not even fifteen minutes after they were found. An hour after that, Giana found herself outside of her father’s office door. He had either been busy at the time or he had wanted to give himself time to collect himself for their “conversation”, either way she knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. She had changed into a modest dark blue sheath dress and had left off any ornamentation outside of a simple necklace and small gold hoops in her ears.

“Emperor, Princess Giana is here to see you.” His aide spoke up from the door.

“See her in.” He said, neutrally. He was sat behind his desk in a white oriental suit which extended from his neck to below his waist. He also wore black pants and black shoes so shiny one could see under his desk through them. Several piles of papers sat neatly in front of him and he held a pen above the nearest document. It was a bill from the Senate concerning the handling of fish from Andorian markets. The most boring part of government, but he took it just as seriously as he did the rest.

As the door opened again and Giana entered, he affixed his signature to the body of the bill and placed it on a pile at the corner of the desk. Moving on to the next document, he didn’t look up or react to her presence.

He was very upset with her; he did this when he was upset with her. Called her and then ignored her pointedly until he was good and ready to talk to her; it made her feel insignificant which she supposed was the goal. She moved to the other side of the desk and simply stood there, her hands clasped in front of her and waiting.

“Have a seat.” He said, dryly. “Have a lot to discuss.”

She shifted and sat down with the grace of her upbringing, crossing her legs at her ankles and placing her hands in her lap. “May I speak?”

He allowed nearly ten seconds to pass between them in chilly silence before he looked up at her and answered her question.

“You may.” His gaze was cold, as was his tone, but it wasn’t anger that showed on his face. It was weariness. He seemed exhausted with this; with everything.

Giana met his gaze, one of the few people who did so without any fear.

“I’m sorry.” She let her gaze drop slightly when she said the words and she did actually seem contrite which was quite a rarity, and even more so when she was doing so before being laid into. “I shouldn’t have run off.”

Antonius looked at her unblinkingly, his blue eyes cold and still. He watched her for the space of around thirty seconds, not speaking or moving. When he finally spoke, it was a strange relief to have the silence broken.

“Mmm..” he said, quietly. “Are you not a little old to be so rebellious and resentful, Giana? At what age does this neuroticism stop?”

She of course hadn’t expected immediate forgiveness or anything of the like. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was just hurt by a decision you made and made an impulsive decision of my own.”

“A decision I made?” He asked. His facial expression didn’t change as he asked.

“You rescinded the kill on sight order for Giuseppe and want him brought in alive again.” Giana supplied simply, watching her father as she spoke.

“Yes.” Antonius said, his mind working behind his neutral expression. “And what does that have to do with you, Giana?”

“Giuseppe abused me, raped me, and tried to kill me in my own home. He’ll kill you without hesitation - he’ll kill Paolo without mercy. He won’t stop as long as he is alive and yet…” She shook her head slightly. “It felt like a slap in the face.”

“Well it’s not.” He said simply, pressing his lips together on his otherwise unmoving mask. “And putting yourself in danger did nothing to prove any point to me except to question your judgment. Do you think he will find it harder to kill you when you skip out on your details? We’ve made it as safe as we can here. We had no idea where you were; your mother was vomiting in the damn toilet with worry.”

He paused then, and leaned back in his chair, his face softening somewhat.

“Are you truly sorry, or is that just a statement designed to placate me?”

Giana shifted slightly and took a breath, thinking about what she wanted to say. “Giuseppe has always been the monster in my story, tormenting me, hurting me, and making my life hell in any way he could manage. You know I thought for years that you knew and just didn’t care because he’s a son and heir. You say you didn’t and I do believe you, but now you know the breadth of what he is capable of… and yet still it seems like you choose the monster over your daughter… or anyone really.”

She paused then, clearly not done speaking but struggling to reconcile what she was about to say with her own feelings. “But Sacha pointed out something to me that I had really never considered before because I can only see Giuseppe in the light I know him.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes and then met his gaze again. “He was your baby.”

He frowned at that, a deep sad frown. It seemed like the weight of the world appeared on his shoulders.

“I had four babies. And I think you’ll find it isn’t so easy to kill your baby.”

He cleared his throat and shook his head, returning to his stoicism.

“I didn’t consider your feelings, and for that, I’m sorry. But I won’t apologize for showing a small mercy to my son. He will die, I know it. I’m not sure…” he stopped then and simply looked at her, his mind racing behind sad eyes.

“Not sure what, Papa?” She prompted lightly, sadness showing in her own eyes.

“I don’t know how.” He finished simply. He turned his head down to his papers again. “We could’ve secured a little cabin if you just asked. We could have made a vacation work. Don’t do this to your mother again.”

Giana paused a beat then reached out across the desk to place her hand on top of her father’s gently. “I really am sorry, Papa. I can’t pretend to understand your feelings on the matter because I’m not a parent, but I-”

She stopped then and pulled her hand away, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

When she had touched him, Antonius’ eyes drifted to his hand. He didn’t recoil, and when she moved hers, he reached out and grabbed it again. He looked her in the eyes, their color just like his.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me, and I have a very hard time showing it, I know.” He said heavily, and paused. “I forgive you.”

It was never about Giuseppe or Paolo or her mother or the people, when push came to shove. It was always about him and her constant seeking of his love and approval; she knew that in part, but even Giana wasn’t aware of the depth of that need. The words he spoke then were rare indeed, so much so that Giana’s eyes widened just slightly in surprise and her thumb absently moved over his skin, wrinkled and thinned with his age. She had a fleeting memory of when they weren’t like this - they were solid and strong and held her tightly and lovingly.

How much better would life have been if things had been… just a little different?

She could feel tears pricking her eyes and reached up to hastily wipe them away with her unoccupied hand. “That… means a lot to me, Papa. Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand, a half smile on his face, and then let it go.

“Did you at least enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” She nodded and smiled a bit more while pulling her hand back. “We just… stayed in and relaxed. Nothing complicated or anything. It was really nice.”

He of course didn’t need to know the exact details of what his daughter and her fiancé got up to alone in the cabin. He was an intelligent man.

“Hmm. Yes.” He said with a tone that indicated his obvious distaste for un acknowledged truths. “And Sacha is keeping his nose clean, I see. Besides stealing my daughter during a crisis, that is. Are you still dedicated to marrying the man?”

“To be fair, Papa, if anything I stole him.” Giana pointed out lightly, still smiling slightly and shaking her head. She knew he would likely never see Sacha as anything but the teenage rebel who led his daughter astray and that was disappointing, but he was a man set in his ways and views.

“I am dedicated to marrying him, yes. He makes me happy, Papa, and he wants to protect and care for me. He loves me.”

“Hmm.” Antonius said with a nod. “Well , there’s still time, isn’t there?”

It had been a rhetorical question, one offered with mirthless humor and no smile. Still, Antonius was gentle in tone and didn’t mean much by it.

“I need to get back to work, Giana. Increased government activity brings increased reading. So, unless you want to sit with me and read the finer points of the integration of altered cultural ethos in conquered territories…”

Giana was used to her father’s coolness to her partnership with Sacha, but she knew if he really had disapproved of it completely, he wouldn’t allow it to happen. They’d never get along, but she hoped that her father could at least learn to love the love Sacha had for his daughter.

She also knew his prompt was given with full expectation that she would leave. Instead, she smiled and extended her hand palm up toward him. “I’d love to.”

Truthfully she couldn’t remember the last time she had worked with him - that was 99.9% of the time Paolo - but in this instance she thought it might be nice.

Antonius’ eyes widened in obvious surprise at her acceptance of the almost sarcastic offer. It was an offer only Paolo would accept, so he was floored by her willingness to do it.

“Well pull up a chair then, Giana.” He said with a wave of his hand. “And don’t worry, I’ll understand if you only stay for a bit.”

Giana stood and picked up the chair she was sitting in and moved it with a bit of effort around the desk and next to her father though she gave him plenty of room to work and didn’t crowd him. When she spoke, her voice was pleasant and upbeat. “We’ll see how far we get.”

END