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Alongside the great houses of Medici, the Zecchino family were only second in wealth, power and influence, their wealth so close they were almost on equal ground.
The Zecchino estate scattered all over 14th - 16th century Italy, but the looming shadow of the Medici family towered over every other achievement.
Not that they were the envious or ambitious lot, far from that, as the head Zecchino would claim.
It was the day that the heir to the Zecchino family name, eldest and only son, Gion, finally came of age and was allowed into the public eye.
It wasn’t to say that Gion himself never socialised outside of his own family, he did, but only ever with people of his rank, which wasn’t much other than the Medici family and a handful of others.
To celebrate the occasion, the head Zecchino threw a grand party, inviting not just the Medicis, but other great and lesser families of neighbouring cities, philosophers, artists and scientists of the day and age, whom Gion was eager to talk with and learn from.
Other people had almost the exact same idea as well, so the amount of people that turned up was overwhelming, and a good sign, to the head Zecchino, as his other motive was to introduce Gion to the girls of marriagable age in the other families, hoping for a powerful alliance and marriage between the two great families.
Gion was less than pleased, but didn’t let it show, letting the small fact that he was going to be in contact with the great minds of the era comfort him for the long night ahead of socialisation and lesser minded people.
—-----------
The day of the party arrived, and never had the Zecchino estate been so packed and lively.
People of all classes might be an overstatement, but it was close enough. People who had close relations with the ‘unskilled workers’ were invited, such as some of the lesser families in the lesser cities, but ideally, it was mostly consisted of those at least in the mid-higher chain of the classes.
Gion scanned the ballroom coldly with his icy blue eyes, his arms crossed and his back on the wall in the little corner he had retreated to. The ball might’ve been his golden opportunity, as his grandfather the head oh-so-kindly reminded him, to seek a wife and to bring prestige to the family name: a powerful marriage alliance between the two most prominent families in Italy, an alliance that would shake the lands of the mediterranean to it’s core, and finally bring the rest of the warring cities of Italy under the thumb of Florence. But Gion still silently scoffed to himself, smirking a little at his obliviousness, but putting on the mask of a dutiful heir, and socialising and laughing with the Medici daughters until his grandfather’s back was turned, and made his excuses to leave.
He had other things in mind, more important than the awkward, grating cutesy laugh that the Medici daughters tried to imitate, hoping to impress Gion, such as scanning the crowd for the great thinkers he heard were invited and hoping to strike up a conversation with them, and a particular boy he knew would turn up soon…
“Gion! Brother? You awake yah?”
A young brunette, relatively similar to Gion in looks, walks over to his corner with an entreating look.
Gion’s face softens considerably at the sight of his sister, his confidant, the little bundle of joy in his life that he vowed to protect with all of him, but her face made him frown in concern.
“Gina? Anything wrong?”
“Not really, but…oh, grandfather has been requesting your presence, so you’d better go now, don’t make him suspicious.”
Gion nodded, straightened his shirt and gets up from his hiding place. Gina places her hand on his elbow, slowly escorting him out.
“And remember now, dear brother, just say you found some potential interest in at least one of those pigs, but your still not sure yet, alright? Grandfather always respects your opinions, so keep that.”
“You never fail to remind me, but thanks.”
The siblings weave through the crowd with certain steps, Gion’s face was smug, but unreadable all the same, a perfect balance he practised in the mirror many times before to give others the perfect look of a prince and heir, Gina had not as much training, but her face was still and a small smile tickling the corner of her mouth, as they walk up the biggest crowd amongst the crowd, squeezing into the centre.
“You do understand, dear brother, that I can’t lie for you for long.” Gina says coldly, tone matching with Gion’s look.
Gion shrugged, a small movement that only Gina felt and saw.
“I know, that it why I won’t ask of it anymore. You can rest assured, Gina, that anything that happens to me after this here on out you are entirely blameless.”
Gina bites her lip, but says nothing as they get closer to their grandfather.
But turns out, the head had nothing noteworthy for Gion when he came, other than some quick encourages, and a few well-disguised threats, to actually go and bond with one of the Medici daughters.
“Look, there are at least half-a dozen of them, there must be at least one of them you might favour. You don’t have to truly like each other but…”
Gion chooses to ignore the rest of the tirade, but everyone’s attention is suddenly arrested by a distant comotion.
From the cluster of the Medici’s a woman was being restrained by several maids, kicking and screaming curses that made several of the onlookers flinch.
There was broken glass on the floor, and a single manservant with his silvery hair drenched as he stands stock still, his eyes and smirk never leaving the woman being escorted away.
Gion eyes the stout woman angrily as she calms down in a corner, recognising her as one of the daughters from the Medici house.
“Apologise for the humiliation, Zecchino, Lucia has always been a fiery and impulsive brat.” The head of Medici hurriedly explains to Gion, who was still eyeing the manservant who was discretely led away.
“My my, well, you still have five other girls to choose from…Gion?”
The head Zecchino chortles good-naturedly, before turning his head to face Gion, only to find the space where he was a minute earlier empty and the other surrounding nobles closing in on the space.
—--------------
“It’s okay, sisters, I can do it myself…” He was suddenly cut off when one of the surrounding maids began dumping cold water over his hair which hovered over a basin.
“What do you mean? Just let us help you Livio,” The maid who had poured the water insists, before she starts vigorously scrubbing his long hair.
The silver-haired manservant, Livio, nods, resigning himself to being visciously pampered by his caretakers, or as he called them, sisters.
Technically they weren’t related by blood, but when Livio’s mother, a maid of the household, became pregnant, the others took it upon themselves to help the single mother give birth and take care of her and help her make excuses for her absence. Unfortunately though, she died long ago when Livio was still young, but Livio had always looked up to the other maids and servant who had taken care of him as his family.
“What happened, anyway?” one asks.
Livio shrugs, taking a spare shirt to dry his hair, and a handful of clothes to change into.
“She asked me to do something stupid to entertain her piggy friends, I refused, and she threw a fit and sloshed wine all over my front.” Livio says nonchalantly from behind the screen.
One of the maids, who also had a head of silvery hair (more due to age), cocks an eyebrow up inquisitvely, then chuckles.
“Ah! That was the third sister, always such a brat, the worse from my four decades worth of service.”
“True, true,” the other maid say in unison.
Livio nods appreciatively, but suddenly there was a ring on the bell, and Livio sighs, knowing he has to get back to work.
But just as his hand lands on the doorknob, the door swings open in his face and Gion steps in.
“Lord Gion!” Livio gasps,
The other maids turn at the sound, immediately straightening up to be more presentable, but still eyeing Gion with suspicion. No noble, not even the head himself had ever dared venture into the servant’s quarters, let alone the heir.
“What are you doing here! This is the servant’s quarters,” One of the maids speaks up, but immediately blushes and looks down as Gion eyes her icyly.
“I wish to borrow Livio for a bit. Make your excuses for him,”
And before anyone could properly process the fact that the heir to their master wanted a common manservant for something, Gion yanks Livio by the wrist out of the room with a small squawk of protest before the door was closed shut.
—--------------
The two went unnoticed by the other aristocrats, too warped up in their own world, as Gion all but drags Livio through the shadows, then behind a giant statue of the great patriot of the Zecchino family centuries before (whom they claimed as a close relative of charlemagne) and then opens a door at the base. Livio didn’t protest, and even seemed excited as Gion led him through his private garden.
Once the bustle and chatter were closed off with the door, Gion drops all his princely airs, instead adopting a tired, but soft look as lets go of Livio’s hand, turning to look at him and appreciate the surroundings.
“I, apologise, for what Lucia did to you,”
“Gion! Don’t, apologise. Besides, it was well worth it to see her reaction. See her chances of getting a husband in the future,” Livio smirks,
“Not every girl’s dream is a husband, no matter what the family says. But do they have a choice?” Gion says bitterly, thinking about his sister, her romantic and friendly nature. The husband that would wed Gina had better be worthy of her, and Gion would see to that personally.
“C’mon Gion, you didn’t drag me out of my duties just to chastise me about my ruined shirt.” Livio smiles warmly, the moonlight shining from his back, illuminating his hair, making him look like an ethereal being in the background of the flora and fauna. “I missed you,” he admits, taking Gion’s hand and intertwining their fingers together, bringing the joined hands up to eye level.
Gion doesn’t respond at first, continually staring at their joined hands, then sighs, muttering.
“You saw me earlier during breakfast, and yesterday, and the day before that. You see me everyday, what is there to miss?”
“Gion!” Livio laughs, throwing his head back to emphasise his amusement, but slowly calms down as he touches their foreheads together.
“What can a look do to one’s heart? Juliet looked at Paris, and ended up with Romeo within the space of an hour,” Livio closes his eyes, thinking back to the plays that he remembered his mother smuggled for him to read and have a proper education from.
Gion internally rolls his eyes at the metaphor, but smiles all the same. He leaned in closer, until their lips were just barely touching.
“Even Romeo and Juliet have it better than us, don't they?” Gion whispers, using his free hand to tilt Livio’s face up as they kiss.
Livio doesn’t comprehend how much time passes as they kiss, he wants to savour the rare intimacy they will ever get, and forget the rules that set them apart.
But all things have to come to an end, as Gion breaks the kiss, opting to wrap his arms around Livio in an embrace and slowly sways them to the beat of soundless music.
“Gion, what are we?” Livio asks, hiding his face in Gion’s neck as he presses a soft kiss there.
Gion doesn’t answer, sighing as he feels Livio trail a path up and down his neck.
“You are…aware that I must be married soon?”
The warm lips stop, the path they leave behind cold as Livio raises his head up to look at Gion.
“Yes,” He replies simply, refusing to look Gion in the eye, his mind conjuring up impossible scenarios of running away with Gion or…
“That is impossible, they will find us eventually,” Gion seems to have read his thoughts, but Livio cuts them off with another kiss, this time coupled with teeth and tongue as Livio backs Gion up to the fountain at the centre of the garden.
“Nothing is impossible, fate can’t be so cruel!” Livio pins Gion to the marble surface, his anguished expression taking up all of Gion’s vision.
“But it is, this is the reality, not a tragedy meant for a Northern European audience.” Gion states coldly, remaining board stiff as Livio buries his face into his chest, trembling with unexpressed emotions.
“Livio,” Gion reaches up a hand to pat Livio’s back. Livio gives a non-commital grunt in response. “Even though me and my betrothed will exchange religious vows, and thousands of others will witness our union, my heart and my entire spirit will only ever belong to you. But we can never remain close physically. Besides, I’m sure you will find someone who will be more open and committed in the future.”
Livio makes a small sound of rebuttal at the last statement, but it dies down as he relaxes into Gion’s touch.
“Can’t I visit you, then? When your wife is out or you bring me along for trips,”
“Maybe, it might depend on who is within proximity.”
“That will be enough, just as long as I get to be with you,”
They meet again for another kiss, but are slowly cut short as the boom of fireworks mark the end of the party, and the reinstatement of their lives in its full monotony.
—------------
“Livio! What did Prince Gion want from you?”
Livio is bombarded with the same question the moment he steps back into the servants quarters, where all the servants were waiting eagerly.
He shrugs, turning his back and heading behind the screen to hide his flush and change out of his servant’s attire to end the day.
“Nothing noteworthy.”
“You do understand that the young heir is a known devil himself in the household. Rumours abound of his chain of people he has tricked and used and thrown into the refuse heap even as a child. Better be more careful, now that you’re his personal bodyguard.”
“His…what?!” Livio nearly knocks the screen over in his surprise.
“Maria! We had special orders to not tell him until first light!” The other women cry out as they all chastise the blubbering girl who had been talking the entire time.
“Welp! Now he knows hours ahead, which will give him better time to prepare and process. It’s a big job, I know.”
Maria continues on rambling, and the other women sigh as they look apprehensively at the screen that concealed Livio and Maria, who had already disappeared into the sheets.
Livio grips the frame of the screen, his head spinning at the sudden information, and his heart pounding in his ears.
He thinks, lightly touching his lips, then smiles, slipping on his nightgown and taking the bundle of his used clothes to be washed.
Maybe they didn’t need to be separated much after all. Livio happily thinks as he emerges, his face eternally passive as he creeps back to his personal quarters.