Bianca

by Small Bertrice

  “Ahh,” Bianca said, “so there is the problem. Well, it will eventually solve itself, I am certain.”

  The prince came to the villa early the next afternoon, riding down the beach on a large gray stallion with a black mane and tail. The animal clambered up the steep path to be stabled out of the rain by Primo. Agata noted how Bianca lit up as the prince came into her little library, where a fire now burned to take the chill off the day.

  “Amir!” she exclaimed as he was ushered into her presence. He was carrying something beneath his arm.

  “I didn’t know if you had a chessboard,” he said as the box he carried was opened to reveal just that. There was also a small box that held two sets of pieces, one in white marble, the other in red marble.

  “You don’t know if I play,” she said to him. In truth, she was a talented chess player.

  “If you don’t, I will teach you,” he replied. “I have no desire to travel into the city in such inclement weather, and I am bored alone with my servants. Are you not bored?”

  She laughed. “Yes, I am,” she admitted.

  They played several games of chess that afternoon, but when he noticed that the light was beginning to fade, he arose. “I must go before I am unable to find my way back home and my horse and I end up in the sea,” he told her. “I’ll come back earlier tomorrow if the rains continue. If the weather clears, we’ll walk together.”

  “Your mood is better for his visit,” Agata noted with a smile. “He is a good man for all he is a foreigner. Gemma is disappointed she did not get to feed him.”

  “When he comes next, I will invite him to dine,” Bianca replied. That night she fell asleep listening to the rain on the tiled roof beating against the shutters that had been pulled over her windows. Bianca was warm and cozy beneath her down coverlet. Jamila slept near her head, purring contentedly, lulling her mistress into a delicious dream state where she was free to be with her prince.

  They began to ride together on the beach on sunny days and played chess on the days when the weather was inclement. The days grew shorter, the nights longer, and Bianca’s seventeenth natal day came. The year she had turned fifteen had been the first she had ever been away from her family. She had been in her husband’s house then. But last year and now this year she celebrated quietly at Luce Stellare. To her great surprise, Prince Amir brought her a gift.

  “How did you know?” she asked him, eager to open the white silk bag he gave her. What was in it?

  “A little bird mentioned it in passing,” he replied with a smile. Her delight was so pleasing to see. “Open your gift, Bianca.”

  She did, pouring its contents into her palm. The rope of black pearls brought a gasp from her slender throat. She dropped the bag, letting the pearls extend to their length from her fingers. “Ohh, signore, they are beautiful!” she exclaimed. Then she sighed reluctantly. “But I cannot accept them, and you surely know the reason why,” Bianca told him. Picking up the bag, she went to pour the pearls back into it, but he took the rope from her hands. Standing before her, he slipped them over her head.

  “Let me see them displayed once, as they should be,” he said to her. “I will defer to your honor, and keep them for the day you can accept them freely. I chose each pearl myself to be certain it was perfect and without blemish, as you are.” He stepped back to look at the necklace, and considered how it would look against her unclad body.

  As if she could hear his thoughts, Bianca blushed. His gaze was far too warm, and his dark blue eyes lingered on the pearls where they brushed the swell of her breasts. She lifted the jewels off, and gently poured them back into the white silk bag, which she then reluctantly handed to him. “I do thank you for the thought,” Bianca told him. “I don’t believe I ever had anything as lovely.”

  “Did not Rovere cover you in jewels?” Amir wanted to know.

  Bianca laughed. “Other than a few large and ugly pieces, which I gladly left behind when I fled his house, no. He bought what was most expensive, not what was tasteful or beautiful. The jewelers all knew that. Anything delicately made, he passed over for large pieces that could be displayed to his advantage, not the wearer’s.”

  At her invitation, Amir remained for the afternoon meal. Gemma served a lovely white fish broiled in butter and lemon, along with a dish of small pasta mixed with rice and flavored with olive oil and herbs. There were artichokes and a roasted capon that had been stuffed with sage and onion. There was bread, which they dipped in olive oil, and a delicious wine to drink. It was simple but surprisingly satisfactory. They were just finishing their meal when they heard the sound of horses’ hooves outside.

  Bianca grew pale and jumped to her feet, calling for Agata. Had he found her? She had to escape the villa. She would not allow Sebastiano to force her back to Florence as his wife. “Agata! Agata! Where are you?” She was becoming frantic with her fear.

  Prince Amir saw the terror in her eyes, in her face. Jumping to his feet, he said, “I will protect you, Bianca! I will protect you!”

  Agata ran into the sala da pranzo.

  “Tell Primo to saddle my horse,” Bianca cried. “I must get away! He cannot find me, Agata! He cannot! Hurry! Hurry!”

  There came a loud knocking on the oak doors.

  “See who is at the door,” Prince Amir said sternly to Agata.

  “No! No! I must escape! I must!” Bianca sobbed now, thoroughly frightened.

  The knocking resounded again.

  “Go!” The prince told Agata.

  Pale herself, the servingwoman scurried off to do his bidding. Reaching the door, Agata pulled it open before her courage failed her. “Signora! Oh, signora! You have given us such a fright,” she said to Orianna Pietro d’Angelo, who stood before her. “Come in! Come in! Mistress! Mistress! Come quickly! It is your mother!”

  Bianca flew from the dining room, running straight into her mother’s outstretched arms. “Madre! Oh, Madre!” And then she began to weep.

  Orianna hugged her eldest daughter as the tears pricked the backs of her eyelids, but she would not let them fall. “Bianca, Bianca,” she murmured into her child’s dark hair. “I could not let another birthday pass without seeing you.” She kissed the tears from her daughter’s face. “I only wish I brought you better news.”

  “Have you eaten, Signora?” Agata asked and then answered her own question. “Of course you haven’t. I’ll have Gemma fix you something immediately.”

  “My men . . .” Orianna began.

  “Primo or Ugo will have taken them to the kitchens. Their horses will be stabled, and they will sleep dry and warm in the barn, signora.”

  Bianca ushered her mother into the dining room

  The prince came forward immediately to greet her. “Signora Pietro d’Angelo, I am Prince Amir ibn Jem.” He politely seated her at Bianca’s right hand. “I am your daughter’s neighbor.”

  Orianna was rarely surprised, but Prince Amir’s presence was totally unexpected. She sat down at the rectangular oak table. Surely Bianca hadn’t taken a lover.

  “We walk together, we ride, and occasionally he can even beat me at chess,” Bianca said, smiling at the prince.

  It was a warm smile that a woman gives to a man she is in love with, and Orianna heard in her daughter’s voice something she had never before heard. Madre di Dios! Do not let her have acted foolishly. “Is that all you do together?” she heard herself asking.

  Bianca looked puzzled, not quite comprehending her mother.

  The prince, however, did. “You have raised your daughter to be a moral woman, signora,” he said. “And I have no need to seduce her or bring shame to your name.” He went to Bianca, who suddenly realized what her mother meant. Mortified, she wasn’t certain what to do next. Amir took her hand up and kissed it. “Thank you for your hospitality, Bianca,” he told her.

  “Will you come tomorrow?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “The day after, perhaps. You have your mother for company now, and I am certain she h
as much to tell you or she wouldn’t have risked the journey,” the prince replied. Then he looked directly at Orianna. “Can you be certain you were not followed? You have possibly endangered Bianca’s safety by coming, signora.”

  “Rovere is in Rome,” Orianna said. “My journey was planned in advance, and I did not depart from our palazzo, signore. I would never knowingly expose Bianca.”

  Amir nodded, and then, turning on his heel, left.

  “You were rude to him,” Bianca said quietly.

  “Is he your lover?” Orianna asked bluntly.

  “Of course not, Madre. I am a married woman, no matter the difficulties with Sebastiano. You did not raise me to be a loose woman,” Bianca replied indignantly.

  “Then why is he in your house and alone with you?” Orianna demanded to know.

  “Because he is my friend,” Bianca said. “It is my natal day, and he brought me a gift, which I, for the sake of my good name, was forced to refuse. I asked him to share my meal. I am never really alone with him. I am surrounded by my servants. There is nothing improper in our friendship, though I tell you I wish it were otherwise, Madre. He is kind, which the blessed Mother knows my husband has never been. He treats me with respect, which Sebastiano has never done, beginning with that travesty of a wedding night. I am a grown woman, Madre, not an innocent girl who is dazzled by a handsome man.”

  “He is very handsome,” Orianna noted. “And proud too. However, you are correct in that he is respectful of you, Bianca. I will admit to being impressed by his care of your good name. Does he know the situation in which you find yourself?”

  “Does he know I am a married woman and that I seek the dissolution of my marriage? Yes, Madre, he does,” said Bianca.

  Orianna nodded. “I will remain with you tomorrow, and then I must return to Florence. Your father did not want me to come and was fearful for us both, but I could bear our separation no longer. With Rovere in Rome, it was the perfect opportunity. My father sent half a dozen men from Venice to accompany me. I slipped through the church garden and met them outside of its gate. I will return the same way. My absence has been explained by saying I am making a retreat for a few days at a nearby convent.”

  “You said the news you brought was not good, Madre,” Bianca reminded her mother. “What is it?”

  Orianna sighed painfully. “The influence your grandfather has is limited to two elderly cardinals. Rovere, on the other hand, has his kinsman, and I am told that because of his predilection for debauchery, even in Rome, he has attracted the interest of several other high churchmen whose tastes are similar. The matter of your annulment has become a matter for study and further consideration.”

  “In other words, my husband has won,” Bianca said.

  Orianna said nothing. She could not deny it.

  “I will die before I return to him,” Bianca told her mother quietly.

  “He will not care,” her mother replied. “He is a gamesman, and his only interest is in winning. To have the most beautiful girl in Florence flee him six months after their marriage and demand an annulment was a serious blow to his pride. But to have the Church postpone her request for her freedom gives him the victory he needs to salvage his damaged reputation. And having that influence with the Church makes him more powerful in Florence. The di Medici are not pleased at all.”

  “But the di Medici cannot legally protect me from my husband,” Bianca responded. “They must be careful of their own reputation, for we all know there are certain families who would topple them from their position of power and influence given the opportunity. There is nothing left for me now if I cannot be free of Sebastiano Rovere, Madre. I will remain here at Luce Stellare. Eventually it is to be hoped he will either die of his excesses or decide to let me go. If he should ever discover where I am hidden, I will find a way to kill myself, but I will not return to that man or his house ever again.”

  While she enjoyed her mother’s company the following day, she actually wished Orianna gone so she might speak with Amir. But when Orianna did depart the following morning, Bianca felt an even deeper sadness, for she did not know if she would ever see her mother, or the rest of her family, again. Taking her horse, she guided it down the steep path to the beach and rode towards the prince’s villa. She needed the comfort of Amir’s presence and his strength.

  To her surprise Darius came loping down the beach to greet her, his golden fur gleaming in the sunshine, the long, slender curl of his tail wagging as he reached her. Then she saw Amir on his own mount, waiting for her in the shadow of the caves. She urged her mare to their meeting, and almost leaping from the animal’s back, flung herself at the prince in a display of utter desperation.

  “What has happened, Bianca?” he asked as his arms closed about her. Allah! She had to be in great distress to behave so incautiously. Unable to help himself with her warm body pressing against him, he buried his face in her hair, which had come undone in her race to reach him. He breathed in the essence of her. Sweet! Sweet! Allah! He wanted her so much. If he had been another man, he could have easily taken advantage of her unhappiness, but he would not. “Tell me what is wrong, Bianca,” he heard himself repeating. Then he set her back from him, looking into her tearstained face. “What has your mother told you?”

  “Rovere has won,” she began with a sob, but then recovered herself. “The Church in Rome has decided my request for an annulment from him is a matter for further study. It seems he and his kinsman, the cardinal, found among the church’s holy men several with a similar nature to my husband. They, in turn, have used their influence to block that of my family. Even my princely Venetian grandfather’s prestige is not enough to save me. Now Sebastiano will find me, and when he does he will kill me. He has that right as my husband, and none can gainsay him, Amir.” She began to weep again.

  “Come away with me!” he heard himself saying.

  “What?” She had not heard him correctly.

  “Come away with me,” he repeated. “I will take you to my home on the Black Sea. He will never find you, and I will keep you safe forever, Bianca.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, imagining a life with this gentle, handsome man. It would be a good life, Bianca instinctively knew, and for the first time she was tempted beyond all reason. She was so tired of being afraid. Then she heard his voice.

  “I love you,” the prince said. “I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. I will always love you, beloved.”

  “I love you too,” Bianca heard herself admitting, and she did. Then she drew in a long, deep breath. “But we are honorable people, Amir. I could never be truly happy knowing I had run away and shamed my family’s name. I will not become your lover until I am free of Sebastiano Rovere. Religion and nationality mean little to me. I am a Florentine Christian woman, and you are an infidel Turk, but we love each other nonetheless. However, you cannot dishonor your name any more than I can mine.” She felt suddenly stronger, and knew it was the knowledge of his love that had made her so.

  “If Rovere finds you and comes to take you back, I will kill him myself,” Amir told her. “Then you would be mine.”

  “They would arrest you,” she said softly. He would kill for her. He loved her. No man had ever said such things to her. Bianca’s heart raced with both fear and excitement.

  “Not if they do not find his body,” Amir replied. “Nor would they find us.”

  “We would have to wait several years for him to be declared dead if there was no body,” Bianca countered. “I would be an old woman, and you would not want me then.”

  “I will always want you, beloved,” he promised her.

  He rode back with her to the villa, remaining to eat and play a few games of chess with her. By the time he departed, Bianca was feeling much better. If Sebastiano came, Amir would kill him. She believed it would happen and rested easier now. The rainy season came once again and all remained quiet at Luce Stellare. It was late winter before her fears were finally realized and Bianca was
forced to face her husband for the first time in over two years.

  He burst through the front door of the villa with a small party of men at dusk. His voice thundered through the small villa as he called her name, demanding her immediate attendance upon him. “Bianca! You will show yourself immediately, my disobedient wife. I have come to take you home, bitch!”

  Bianca had heard the commotion as her doors were rent asunder. She had been in the little library by the fire sewing a silk shirt for the prince. Putting her work aside, she heard her husband’s voice calling for her. She was not going to hide, she told herself. Amir would come, and Rovere would finally meet his fate. She rose, pale and frightened, but she was determined to stand up to him. He would be quite surprised.

  Agata sidled into the room. Her face was pinched with fright. “I have sent Ugo for the prince. There are only four men with your husband.”

  “You and Gemma hide with the girls,” Bianca said. “If you don’t, I am afraid they will be raped, for he will set his men on my women, and I don’t want that.”

  “I must stay with you, mistress,” Agata said loyally.

  “I will manage Rovere as best I can,” Bianca told her servingwoman. “See to the other women for my sake, if not your own.”

  Reluctantly, Agata slipped away, and drawing herself up to her full height Bianca came forth from her library into the gracious entry of her home. “You are hardly welcome here, signore,” she told him boldly. “My absence from your home these few years has surely made it clear to even you that I do not choose to cohabit with such a husband. You should not have interfered with the annulment I sought from you.”

  Madre di Dios, he had changed. The once-handsome face was now bloated and puffy, marred further by broken veins near and on his nose. His hair had thinned considerably.

  He advanced on her menacingly. “You little bitch,” he snarled at her. “How dare you make me the laughingstock of Florence by leaving me?” He was infuriated by her calm beauty. Even in a modest gown of dark green velvet, she enticed him, and it angered him. His hand flashed out to make hard contact with her pale cheek.