[Backstory]The Dead Prince (For Yvonne)

[Silvana de Lucca]

I'd ridden up from La Serenissima post-haste, when the letter had come. Grigori had fallen, Grigori was dying of a broken spine, and the vision of him on a death bed had sent me into a fury of sadness that only meant more broken vases in our home. I hadn't waited, had ordered the move back to our family home posthaste, and having barely taken time to pack a few gowns, I'd ridden with a light escort, trying to beat death in her race to claim my eldest brother.

I was too late, though, and his dead body and inert form had been all I'd found – only a few months gone since Giovanni's death. Over a year gone I'd been made the Contessa di Schio in title and holdings, but the price had been dear. Now again I would wear black, though not a full year, as he was not my husband but my brother and my liege. This time, there was no advancement to it, only grief.

The Prince of Lucca, my brother, was dead – Frederico would take his place, Frederico who had never expected it, but he was a good general and would have all the leadership necessary. He would be a Prince in his own right, I trusted him. Frederico, Prince de Lucca, my brother, succeeding our father's firstborn. I'd not foreseen it - but the death of a loved one is never anticipated.

The service went on, and with my siblings, uncles and aunts about, there was a fair amount of social niceties to endure. Through it all, through the throng of dark heads, my sister-in-law's blond hair stuck out, and though I'd yet to speak to her, I felt angry that she'd been such a failure at a wife, not even begetting my brother the heir he'd wanted so very desperately. For now I just stared, my distaste plain to see. I wanted her gone. She should never have come here in the first place.

[Yvonne de Somerville]

How could I have seen it coming, yet at the same time I felt like I should have known. But I didn't, I didn't know and now I was a widow, something I had never imagined in my life. Grigori had always been strong, so strong that despite his family's increasing objection of myself as his wife -and the idea that he should try to bare a child with another woman on the side- that he had stood up for me. He had always been kind and sweet, so unlike his family though Frederico had been some what nice, perhaps on account of the fact he wanted to taste the sweetness of the D'Angeline blood line. But he'd been tolerable at least in the way he would look at me, at times even being as kind as Grigori. But my husband had been the odd man out, he had always stood up for me and told me he loved me, even though I hadn't loved him; at first.

I'd grown to love him of course, grown to accept being a Princess of Lucca and the mother of the heir. But I never bore that child, I couldn't manage it and every one of this family members seemed to like to remind me of it. But I kept my composure always, I allowed his mother to openly debase me, I always kept silent when rumours past by me and even the servants openly spoke about my barren womb in my presence, thinking I couldn't understand them as they spoke in Caerdicci.

But now that was all in the past.

I waited in my room at first, a black gown with long sleeves and a high neck line all the way to my jaw. I also wore a simple black veil over my eyes as I sat on the edge of my marriage bed, my stomach flat where in just days ago it had been full with my growning child. Tears fell silently from my eyes as I waited for one of my inlaws to collect me. When there was a knock at the door it was one of my mother-in-law's sisters who entered.

"You're no longer needed here." She said simply, cold steal in her voice as I continued to stare down at the floor.
"When the funeral is over you will leave immediately. Your trunks will be packed and there will be a carriage waiting for you. If you choose not to leave the guards will... encourage... you to leave." She bore a devish sneer on her face that told me they had been give leave to do what ever they wanted to me should I refuse.
"Do you understand?"

"Yes." I replied softly, not really caring to say or do anything else. In a way I was defeated and now that Grigori was gone I felt no need to keep the steal in my spine.

"Good, now come along."

Once down in the temple along with the others for funeral I took a place of honor close to the front among his family but not first; I wasn't really family after all. All around me I felt the seething anger of those that wished to blame me for his death. Some claimed that the reason the palace had been attacked was due to revenge; Grigori had had many female suitors and it angered members of local families that he had chosen a foreigner. Other just stared at me for being out of place, my pale skin, pale hair and the scent of apples wafting from my skin. But all I did was remain still, remain quiet like they wanted me to, praying for the soul of my unborn child now dead.

[Silvana de Lucca]

She was quiet and dressed in black from head to toe. I reckoned someone had spoken some sense into her, that she should honor Grigori and wear clothes that were appropriate, for once. I'd never liked the way she dressed, I found her indecent at best, sometimes downright shocking. When one has her features, flaunting is not acceptable, nor is it modest.

I was sitting only a few ways away, and I was trying to focus on my brother's departure, on how I prayed he'd passed over the river of death peacefully, seeing that Frederico would take his place and do well in his stead. He, at least, would have the sense to wed an honest Caerdicci woman, not some foreign slut who flirted with everything that moved, or invited it by merely existing.

The service wore on, and I found myself bored with it, though my mind filled with memories of my childhood, of my oldest brother bearing me on his shoulders and laughing as I tried to braid his hair awkwardly. Grigori had been nigh a father to me, then, as I'd barely known mine. He was goodly and kind, but easily manipulated, and that perhaps was why I hated his wife so much. I'd always thought she'd maneuvered into wedding him for his title, always saw her as the invader of my home and family. He could have been a great father, and I'd looked forward to cradling his offspring in my arms and doting on them extravagantly. Instead we were stuck with this barren whore, and my brother had married me off to an old man I could never desire. It was her fault, and that also made me angry.

_{[OOC: How about skipping to after the service? I'm not sure what the ceremony would be like, aside from a cremation, I wager.]}

[Yvonne de Somerville]

I managed to make it through the service, only glancing up a few times to see Silvana and a few of her kin staring daggers back at me. I tried not to let it bother me but it struck me straight dead in the heart. The priest asked me to come up and say a few words, which I did of course. I spoke on how much I had loved my husband and shared a few stories about when we first had wed, and when I was finished I made it back to my seat with not a hand from any of my inlaws. I cried silent tears the rest of the afternoon until the reception.

As the former wife I had honorific duties like standing with the family to be given sympathies by the nations people. Some were nice enough to shake my hand and continued to use my "princess" title but those that had any relation to my deceased husbands family just brushed past me, giving a cold glare as they did.

Once those duties were finished I stood alone off to the side, watching those around me cry and share stories about Grigori.

[Silvana de Lucca]

My sister-in-law bored everyone to death with her talk of love and her inanities about how much she'd loved Grigori (what did she know of love? Don't her people sleep with everyone, strangers and commoners included?) I didn't really listen or care, I was waiting for it all to be over, so that I could go into the open air and breathe atop the hills my brother had loved. I didn't need this stuffy service or his annoying wife to grieve.

She'd had the gall to keep using my brother's title, when he had an heir. Frederico was the Prince, the Princesa would be his wife, whoever that would be, and she was no-one and nothing. She'd lost that when she had failed to give Grigori the heir he wanted so very dearly.

She was standing there like a bauble and I had yet to present my sympathies. I didn't earnestly feel like it, but I remembered my own widowhood sharply enough. Maybe I could keep up appearances. Maybe.

“You're dressed decently,” I told her as I sidled up to her. “I suppose you will be happy to resume your D'Angeline ways, when you go.”

So much for keeping up appearances. I simply wasn't able to do it properly.

[Yvonne de Somerville]

I sucked in my cheeks with dispair and true anger as I saw Grigori's baby sister approach me. And it was a good thing I did, I needed something to chew on when she started talking, sounding exactly like her mother and the rest of her damned family.
"I will be happy to go home, yes, if that is what you mean." I answered, knowing I couldn't get into a verbal battle with my now ex sister-in-law. Truth was that I was just happy to be away from people like her.

"I'm sure my family will be happy to see me back." I added and narrowed my eyes a little at her. She knew as well as I that my words read more like unlike you people who've never be kind to me for a day since I arrived.

[Silvana de Lucca]

Well, at least someone will be happy to see you, I didn't say. Instead, I smiled wryly and said gently the most terrible things. “For myself, you can stay in Lucca or go wherever you like, since nothing you can do can bring my brother back.”

I paused, and tilted my head, giving her a purposely cruel smile. “Will they marry you off to some old and decrepit D'Angeline lord, you think? If so, do tell him not to get his hopes up,but wait until you're wedded at least, lest you remain both childless and a widow forever.”

My indirect allusion to Grigori's decision to give me off to Giovanni di Schio was apurpose. I'd always blamed her for it, always thought she'd encouraged the marriage so as to get me out of Lucca, way from home, away from all that I loved and knew.

It didn't matter, ultimately – I'd done my share of familial duty, something which I didn't expect Yvonne knew anything about. I knew she would not have to handle an arranged marriage as I had – and that, also, was something for which I despised her profoundly.

In fact, I saw little more in her than a jumpstarted, sophisticated whore. Perhaps it was best that she was barren. The only thing worse than no heir at all for the throne of Lucca was to have to contend with a bastard.

[Yvonne de Somerville]

I grit my teeth for a moment when she began to speak but reminded myself that she didn't matter any more, she wasn't family and I didn't have to be polite.

"No Silvana I will not be forced into an arranged marriage, after all my brother's love me enough to save me from the embarassment of not being able to procure my own partner." I let a little smile creep across my face, my words hard as I spoke them and my eyes narrowed as I looked at her.

"And you forget," I said taking a step toward her as I lowered my voice. "I birthed your brother an heir but she died." I leaned forward, crossing my arms against my waist.
"Had it not been for the fact that your weak family can't defend it's borders against rivals, I wouldn't have done into labour early." I forced my voice to stay low despite the anger.

"The blood of my husband and daughter are just as much on your hands as they are on the hands of the men that stormed your family's keep." It was true enough at that, I likely would have given birth to a healthy child had it not been for the attack.

[Silvana de Lucca]

A female heir was useless, didn't she know that? I ignored her jab, which only told me that she knew nothing of familial loyalty, and sneered back at her when she insulted my kin.

“I'm sorry that you need the world to stop turning to give birth,” I replied with mock courtesy. “I had no idea that D'Angeline females were so frail, though that explains your palor and sickly complexion. Grigori must have felt very sorry for you, that he would have taken you under his wing thus – bless his heart.” I touched mine, reverently, and that part was earnest. “A strong woman would not miscarry so easily – the world is full of dangers, and we must learn to weather them.”

My smile became sly, a bit crueler as I added the last jab. “It's good that you are leaving. Clearly, you might die if you stayed. After all, here, only the strong survive, and the brave die in battle. Alas, poor thing, you are neither.”

[Yvonne de Somerville]

Her words made my blood boil so greatly that I wanted to slap her face. How dare she!

"I hope that the gods see fit to curse you with a dead child." I near spat through grit teeth, my voice still low. I hadn't thought about my words till I spoke them then realized what I had said and pulled myself back a little.

"No, I take that back." My mouth relazed as I looked at her. "No woman should go through the pain of loosing their child and I hope you remember that when you do finally grow up enough to have a child."

I couldn't take much more of this, my husband dead was one thing and having to listen to this black hearted bitch speak about my child like that... well that was enough. I shook my head at her.
"You should be a shamed." I hissed then turned, heading away from her. I was ready to leave, ready to depart of these people.

[Silvana de Lucca]

I smirked, and looked back at her evenly, not quite caring that she judged me. Her opinion of me was as worthless as ants in a sugar pot.

“There is no shame in standing for one's own, Yvonne,” I replied. “As for your curses, I thank you for them, though they come to me a widow, as you are, though contrary to you, I haven't dishonoured my husband with weak children and harlotry. It's fit that you leave. He should have wedded a strong woman of our land, not...” I shook my head, and gave her a bit of an evil smile, “... not a degenerate, weak-blooded siren. You don't belong here, you don't understand our ways. It's best that you leave.”

My lips curled a little in distaste. “You can return to your licentious ways, there. Is that not the way of your people?”

[Yvonne de Somerville]

The blood boiled in my head as anger welled within and large droplet tears swelled to the breaking point before spilling over the dams of my lids.

"Bitch." I breathed softly. "To think I had felt sorry for you," I clenched my jaw as I fought back my anger.
"I had always thought Grigori's choice to send you off to marry was barbaric and cruel. I fought him for the right for you to marry some one you loved not some one for politics." I shook my head, my voice soft as a whisper the entire time.
"I was mad for having sympathy for you." I swallowed my tears and made a deep curtsy to her. In the past it would have been the other way around but now I was no longer titles and it was Silvana that bore the highest rank here.

"I shall oblige your grace." I said then, my voice at a normal level again. "Good bye." I turned from her then and moved with speed, holding back my tears the entire time. I had the ability to put on a brave face when needed and this was certainly one of those times. I didn't look at a single soul the entire time despite how all around me I heard the whispers of those around me, some rumours, some stories, some sympathy but all the while foreign voices. I begged for home.

I went straight to my waiting carriage.
"Drive." I commanded, stepping into the cab as I did, ready to be free of this place.