Fearless Francesca

Chapter Two - Portrait of Giovanni

1516 House of D’Medici, Evening

The two had spent a whole afternoon together and it wasn’t exactly the delightful fairytale. To Francesca, he came across as a rude and vain boy who cared for nothing but one’s looks. As for Giovanni, he found her talkative and stubborn, challenging to seduce. She didn’t give him second glances at his honey suckle words or his flirtatious tactics. In fact, she found him to be annoying as a five year old.

At least the two were civilized at the dinning table. Her future father in law sat at the very head with Giovanni to one side and her father on the other. Everything felt uncomfortable as they first began to eat in silence but eventually, the chatter grew and it felt homely. Francesca squirmed in her seat and took a glance at her sister. Of course Maria was at peace again as she said her nightly prayer and took delicate refined sips from her soup.

Quietly she murmured words toward her sister who had gladly ignored it. Her eyes shot up to Giovanni who was distracted by something. She followed his gaze until it landed on one of the young maids. She had a pretty complexion and wheat colored hair tucked up. Though her large nose was distracting from the rest of her beauty. Francesca narrowed her eyes at her fiancé whose eyes glittered with lust. Her knuckles clenched the silver spoon and she flicked it so hard that it spilled onto his face which knocked him out of his trance.

“I’m so sorry my lord.” She said gritting her teeth.

He glared at her, “It’s alright my lady.” And he proceeded to wipe his shirt with a napkin that left a yellow stain.

Francesca glanced at the girl again and saw her narrowing her eyes in her direction. A sudden sense of nausea overcame her. If she hadn’t known better, the girl looked like she would wring her neck with a rope. A gut feeling told her that the mere servant girl was anything but decent.

Giovanni couldn’t hold his urge for much longer. A man who didn’t stop to get his daily doses was going to drive himself up a wall. He looked longingly at Annabelle who shared the same intense look back but before he knew it, hot soup was sprayed onto his shirt. He had looked over at Francesca who looked extremely annoyed. He chuckled to himself, she must have been looking.

The rest of the night, the dinner was ended without disruption of spills or stains and quiet chatter between conversing people.

Francesca retreated towards her room, an unsteady feeling twisted in her stomach. The night was dark and it allowed many secrets and ideas to roam. Particularly bad ideas. She had undressed into her night gown and set herself down to rest but her instincts refused to drown her in dreams.

She listened to the sound of the floorboards creak. The look on Giovanni’s face tonight had given her enough speculation of what he could be up to. Her heart pounded rapidly as she grew in frustration. He couldn’t even wait another night they got married.

Carefully, she slipped on her slippers. She took the candle and opened the door. Everything was dark and in silence. Thankfully she had been given a tour earlier and she did her best to maneuver around. She was terrified of what she could find.

Like a peeper she opened a few doors here and there before shutting them. Both her father and sister were sleeping and snoring. Her father in law laid alone in his bed and eyes closed. She discovered Stephen and his wife sound asleep cuddled together for warmth. Their little daughter was a room away turning on her bed restlessly.

Before long, she knew she would find the whereabouts of her dear beloved fiancé.

Her fingers grasped for the golden knob and turned it.

To her dismay, the room was empty. That was impossible. He had to be somewhere. And the noise above her confirmed it.

She pulled the string attached to the ceiling which revealed staircases to the attic. She walked through the large upper area, getting closer to the noise. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The door had no knob but a hole and through it she watched in horror. There he was, naked with the girl from that night under him. They looked harmonious in pleasure and she felt water stream down her face.

He was a bastard and she had hoped for the better.

She ran from the stairs and back into her room. The candle blew out from her rapid escape and she crawled inside of her bed with wet stained tears. He hadn’t even given her a chance to know her and instead, he was making love with a girl younger than herself.

She cried and cried until her nose stuffed up and her pillow grew wet. Her body shook and she bit her lips until blood fell. The image stuck in her mind. Refusing to budge.  

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1516, House D’Medici, Annabelle’s attic room

She had saw the young lady. Or as many already started calling her, the young mistress. It was with no doubt that she was immensely beautiful with her fiery hair and ocean blue eyes. Annabelle felt like a tiny little rat compared to a fluffy pure white cat. She was from the gutters and that girl was blessed from one of the richest and most aristocratic families. But she laughed to herself because she didn’t have something she had. And it was Giovanni’s attention and soon to be love. At dinner she kept her eyes on him. She wanted him to receive her that night and keep his promise. She couldn’t bare it any longer and she envisioned his familiar touch that left her skin crawling with joy. They shared a moment together until the lady disturbed it. Annabelle fumed, he was distracted and re acknowledged his future wife’s presence in front of him. They were a beautiful pair and it left no room for her.

That night she felt the stalking pair of eyes from the Old maid. Misses Caterina who had nursed Giovanni since he was a child due to the death of his mother. The old bat kept a close eye on Annabelle and seemed to always disapprove of her.

“Sei una ragazza stupida che soffriranno a vostri peccati” She muttered furiously as she scrubbed the dishes.

You are a stupid girl who will suffer at your own sins.

Annabelle giggled. She had nothing to fear. She only had love and hopefully the goodwill of the saints who would aide her wish.

“I will be the mistress of this household someday.” She hummed.

“Hush you insolent wretch. Giovanni hasn’t even married that fine young lady and you’re clucking about becoming his wife.” She spat.

“Why are you always so angry with me?” Annabelle said defensively as she continued to hum and scrub.

“Because you will taste the poison of your deeds and you will regret them.” The old woman said with a shake of her head.

“I am happy and I shall do as I please. I love Giovanni and he does to me.” Annabelle said stubbornly.

“You will see ragazza, you will be punished by god for being so shameless.” The old woman said her eyes glowed with intensity.

“Oh shut your trap you old maid. I will personally have you gone once I’m married to Giovanni and by his side.” She said with a tone of menace. 

Old Maid Caterina stopped talking but her blood boiled at Annabelle. She knew full well that the girl was only searching for trouble and she would do anything to ruin Giovannis marriage to Francesca. Even though the girl was from rich background, she had been kind to the old maid. She had accidentally dropped her fork and instead of having an old woman like she pick it up, she had took it from the ground on her own. She even went as far as telling her to rest and asked a younger servant to wash it instead. She kindly said that there was no rush for a replacement and that they could take their time. The girl reminded her many times of the previous lady. Virtuous and dignified. Everything Annabelle was not.

As Annabelle finished washing the last plate, she ran off into the private washing chambers. She let her blonde hair tumble down to her butt and she washed it with the best smelling soaps she had stolen from the first master’s wife. She lathered her body with it and smiled. She dreamt of the night’s events and how he would envelop her with kisses. She washed herself off and took the new dress she had also stolen from the young lord’s wife. It looked radiant on her with its plunging neckline that showed off her developing bust. Her figure was petite but she frowned at her darkened complexion and callous hands. She slipped some lotion onto her hands and slathered it together. To lighten her complexion, she powdered her face.

One could call her a walking ghost but in her eyes, she looked beautiful.

She retreated to her bedroom and threw the sheets off. Tonight would be memorable and she wouldn’t have anything stopping it. She waited patiently until the hour arrived and their secret knock was heard.

“Come in.” She said.

His beautiful form pleased her eyes. She took off from her bed and hugged him around the waist. He smelled of faint alcohol but it didn’t bother her. He grasped her face and kissed it feverously. She rocked and enjoyed every sensation of his touch.

He began to unbutton her dress. The laces were undone and eventually she was in nothing but her night shift. The fabric was light and it revealed her body. Her slender curves and hips, the faint outline of her breasts. He looked at her like a beast ready to pounce.

Annabelle carefully undid his shirt as it slid off his chest. Her palm touched his muscled body and she could feel the beating of his heart. She moved lower below his torso to undo his pants until it fell.

Then it commenced.

The two were so consumed that they hadn’t even notice the door move or the flicker of a candle light. They were intoxicated with lust that it didn’t matter.

It continued on for awhile. Her voice grew tired but her body was young in strength. He fell asleep too quickly but she was expectant of it. She kissed his forehead and brushed aside his dark locks. It felt too wonderful that she would do it whenever he desired. If things went well, she would be able to birth a child. And it would be his. She would become the official wife and not that wench from Milan. She admitted it, she was a mistress and she didn’t mind for now.

The next morning Giovanni awoke to find Annabelle besides him. She was sound asleep with her body wrapped around his. He remembered the night before and it was comforting. But he was slowly growing bored of her constant demands. His new interest developed towards his soon to be wife. And now that she was even more beautiful, he swore that he wouldn’t touch another whore when he had her.

He got up from the bed and dressed himself. He left her on the bed asleep as the sun glowed upon her nude image. He didn’t take a second glance. Giovanni was bored of her since he had just received a better toy to play with.

A/N: I'm sorry, I f*cking hate Annabelle with a burning passion. I'm sure you can feel that at some level too. I mean I had to edit it so that it was readable and not cringable. Yeah and you're probably wondering, why can't you just kill her or something? Throw her into a torture chamber with sharks and no lights. I WISH. But I can't because well, I need a villian so voila, hate on her :) And trust me, I'm suffering here in the corner torturing myself like a masochist. I rage at these characters. It's like ... mentally bonding with non existent people if that even makes ANY sense. But I'm falling in love with this story and all that so I hope you do too! Read, comment, vote, yadayadayada, you know the gist of it. :D