The Missing Princess

32: Friend

Oh, he means Sandro.

Why did Sandro tell Francis' brother to tell Francis to stay away from me? Maybe he doesn't want me to be friends with Francis, but I doubt it's the same reason Nicco has, which is only to protect me. Maybe Sandro told him that because he doesn't want his friend's brother to be associated with a pathetic little girl like me. Anyway, Sandro already thinks so little of me. It breaks my heart to admit it, but I know that it's the truth.

Sandro still hates me and sees me as someone who ruined our family. Some days I still think about that too, no matter how many times the rest of our family has told me it's not, and even though my heart also believes that it's not my fault, Sandro's words are still sharp knives in my heart, difficult to remove.

"But... do you still want to be my friend?" I looked up at Francis and asked, scared that he might say no.

"Of course, mia cara. I don't follow anyone, let alone my brother; I'm my own person. I most definitely love to be your friend, but only if you want to be mine." There was something cheeky about his smile and the way he said mine.

I shook my thoughts away, held out my hand for him, and smiled. "Friends." But I was surprised once again when he gently took my hand; he didn't shake it like I intended; instead, he brought it to his lips and placed another kiss on top of my hand. My face couldn't take it anymore.

But my tomato-like red face quickly turned pale the exact moment I saw my brother's face looking so furious standing just behind Francis, obviously he saw everything. Oh, my goodness.

Before I could react, Nicco had already grabbed Francis by the shoulder, pulling him off of me and turning him around so he could face him. Francis didn't look surprised or scared at all, though; he just blankly stared at my brother; all the adoration and gentle look on his face when he was looking at me were nowhere to be found anymore.

"Nicco, please, stop! Don't hurt Francis; he's my friend!" I quickly exclaimed, hoping that my brother would just release him.

"He kissed your hand, Izzy! How dare you kiss my sorellina's hand, bastardo?" Nicco hissed, still looking at Francis and his face fuming in anger. I kept pulling my brother's arm in hopes he would release Francis, but he wasn't budging at all.

"It's fine, Isabella. Your big brother won't hurt me." Francis turned to face me with a smile.

"Ne sei sicuro, bastardo?" (Are you sure about that, bastard?)

"Lay a hand on me and hurt me in any way you will breaking our families' accords. You wouldn't want to do that now, do you? It's the same thing with Isabella; if I do hurt her, I will also be breaking the accords. Not that I would nor do I actually care about the stupid accords; I could never even dream about hurting her. Lei è la mia amica speciale (She's my special friend)." Francis was talking to my brother, but the whole time he was softly looking at me while still smiling.

I didn't understand his last sentence, which he spoke in Italian, but I did recognize the word special. My face feels hot all of a sudden, and I was almost positive that the redness of my face would have burst out any longer, not just because of Francis' presence and words but also because of my embarrassment toward my big brother. I don't exactly have any idea why I'm feeling like this with my first ever friend, but I do know that I don't want my big brother to see me like this. I really want to cry in frustration and confusion over what's happening now.

Nicco only grunted in reply as he rolled his eyes, but I sighed in relief when he finally let go of Francis. He then took my hand and started to drag me away. I know now not to fight with a grumpy Nicco, so I just let him, but not before turning to look at Francis.