Chapter 5: The declaration

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.

~ Friedrich Nietzsche~

Lorena Ciecro POV

It's not every day that my father, Paolo De'Longhi Cicero, called for me in his old custom traditional book library; it is known by everyone that is connected to the Cicero. It's an old stately home for a chat —And I bet that you won't like to be called into the chat room because it gives chills and unwanted fatherly advice and decision—a place where frustrating choices are made and stamped.

My elder sister, Verona, and I knocked on the old thick wooden door to find out. On the second knock, an ancient roman voice was heard.

"You may enter!" Said the commanding voice in the old roman dialect.

Verona looks at me with eyes full of panic, praying to God it should not involve what happened to her. She straightened her blue dress.

I straightened my chaste emerald green dress before I let myself enter the space where my father had been entertaining newcomers either to impress them with our family wealth —Or to intimidate them. I was not sure what was his primary motive.

"You wish to talk to me, Padre," I asked in the same dialect.

"Sit down, Mia figlia," He gestured for Verona and me to sit down by the brown old leather chair by his right.

I sat down by his right while Verona sat at the left, looking into his infamous emerald eyes that have governed the name of the Cicero family for centuries, the same color as mine. Still, Verona Cicero, my elder sister, has the eyes of my mother, sea-blue eyes. I sat regally as if hell is by my side, as the lady of etiquette that my father trained me to be; I sat down properly, according to the way a woman should sit by the teachings of my father.

I manage to clear my throat to notify him that I am still sitting closer to him. I know it's a bad habit, but I just had to because sitting next to him burns my whole body. With this, his wrinkled eyes were lifted to me. I quickly looked away.

"You'll be getting married soon," He voiced out with no sympathy or emotions. He announced without preamble as if it's the most logical statement of the decades.

"What?" Verona cringed in terror.

Will I be getting married soon? —What the heck? What is going on here?

"Pardon, Padre?" I would not be surprised if my father said that I should bring back my dead mother.

I will be getting married.

"Why would I be getting married, Padre?"

With this, my father rests appropriately on his chair —or his moderator, as my elder sister had called it. He studied me, thinking whether he would tell the truth or not.

"You see,  Mia Figlia, it's high time to honor the promise I made with an old friend of mine for you to marry his son. And it would help if you don't act like your wayfarer sister."

The joy in my heart died this instant. I frowned. I had always known that my father would be the one to choose a groom for me since he did the same thing with my sister. I wasn't aware that he had already had one for me for long.

Just two months ago, I nearly got married to the mayors of Rome, only stupid and casanova son. But thank goodness the blockhead had an accident that caused his father to get rid of the proposal, and then I escaped the loveless arranged marriage.

"Why all of a sudden, Padre?" Verona asked with a startled face.

Emerald's eyes flashed back at Verona. "An Italian, talk not even less of a Roman Patrician, we honor promises not break them, Lorena. You may thank me later or maybe not,"

"But Padre, Lorena is not in love with the man; she barely knows him. Padre, you are doing the same thing that you deed with me," Verona voiced out on my behalf.

Just like that, I thought he was still mad at me for being the cause of the mayor's son's accident. My father doesn't forgive either does he forget about your sins.

"But father, you're double-crossing your last daughter again. Father, how can I get married to someone I don't know?"

"How dare you, Lorena. Have you forgotten your principles? Where are your manners? Why address me in English? Address me in Italian, Mia Figlia," My father reprimanded me with a slip of the tongue for calling him—father.

I cringed at his harsh chastisement. "I'm sorry, Padre,"

"Do not argue with me now, Lorena. You know the consequences of disobeying me for violating the man that puts food on the table. Don't act like your stubborn sister here; Verona was a pain in society, and I guess you don't want to anger me," His irritation was visible in his wry eyes.

With his word, he murdered Verona, who was sitting beside him —For goodness sake, she's beside you. She looks away, feeling embarrassed and irritated.

"But Padri-" I was cut off.

"A well-educated Roman noble do not question the wrath of her guidance. Now, prepare yourself for his arrival! He will be here by four o'clock tomorrow evening with his father, my perfect friend."

"Yes, Padre!" My voice died down.

"And for your information, I won't tolerate any misbehavior from you like the rubbish that your sister portrayed when she heard about her engagement party with the powerful Stephan Verrotti,"  My father indeed doesn't forgive or forget.

"I won't, Padre!" I bowed.

"And for you, Verona, you need to fly back to your home. I'm done with the reason I sent for you," He looks coldly at Verona, my elder sister.

"Yes, Padre,"  She looks deeply at my already red face.

Just like that, my angry sister and I were dismissed. Just like that, I'm going to get married. And just like that, my single life is coming to an end, turning soon into another loveless marriage.

-

"Lorena..."

I looked up from my bed, where I was busy arranging my bed and the whole of my room for the arrival of a total stranger. My heart ached at the sight of my sister, Verona Cicero, who is now known as Verona Verrotti, in my doorway looking super troubled.

"May I have a word with you, Loren?" She gave me a weak smile.

I turn to look at her. "Leave us for a moment, Francesca and Roselina," I told the maids, who were my most prominent companion and partner in crimes.

With their dismissal, Verona walked into my bed-chamber slowly as she closed the door with her beautiful blue gown that swirled between her legs.

"What do you wish to talk to me about, Sorella?" I look down at my bedsheet.

"Sorellina, I'm sorry for not being about to fight for you about fathers terrible decisions. It pains me that mother is no more." she looks sadly at her hand as she slowly sits on the edge of the bed.

Verona is so beautiful. Mere looking at her and watching her speak made me feel so bad for how she was forced into a loveless marriage. She looks so tall, pale skin, slender waist, blue eyes, long brown hair, and overall the finest. Her husband is a renowned CEO of his car company. He's a nice and handsome man —according to how Verona Called him.

"It's okay, Sorella Rona, it ain't your fault. The same thing was done to you, so it's not shocking to me because I was expecting it but didn't know that it would be sooner,"

"Sorellina Loren, You don't know or love that man; how about Ciello?" She asked.

Hearing Marciello's name. I felt my heart melt. Marciello Gavinchy, my childhood crush. He's a plumber, but he's still from a well affluent family. He has been a lovely man but not in the likes of my father.

"I'm entirely in love with Ciello, but the father doesn't know much about my feeling for him," Suddenly, a terrific thought rushed into me. "Should I flee with Ciello, for away from the whole of Italy? Maybe to America? What do you think?" I made a suggestion.

"Are you mad?" Verona cringe. "Don't you know what happened to me when I fled away with Emilio? It was the biggest mistake of my life. I came back home because I found out that Emilio had a wife and two kids. Father was furious, and that led to why he sold me out, and now it's your turn," She stares sadly at me.

I took a deep breath. It was the first time that Verona had shown her weakness to my face. She has been the strongest and most rascal etiquette of beauty, brain, and principles. It felt so good to hear her speak after six months of being away from home since her marriage.

"You cannot do that! You might find yourself on the wrong side of father. I won't let this happen still; I will talk to him about it and also plead with my husband to help us," She sounds concerned.

"No, you can't talk to Father; everything is settled now. You can not change your father's mind, and you know well than anybody." I feigned a smile. "For all we know, it will anger him more," I smile at her.

"Oh, my Lorena," She muttered with faith in her voice.

"You should go now; your flight has been booked for your comfort. Don't worry about me," I sniffed on my depressed mind. "I don't want our father to shout at you again,"

"It's okay, he won't," She sadly mumbles. "I would like to see this man. Don't you think that I deserve to see him?" She looks unappealing at me.

"Yes, it will be nice if you're here to see him because I will kill somebody's son after the marriage ceremony," I knack on my lower teeth with the upper one.

"Calm down, Loren," She taps my shoulders. "I will surely tell my husband about it. I need to come to see who our father is selling my sister to this time," said the family's decent yet rascal queen.

I smile. "Okay, please be here tomorrow,"

"I will; Milan is not too far from Rome, so I'll see you tomorrow then," She taps on my shoulders with a kiss to my forehead and smiles at me, and waves, reaching the door. "I'm so proud of how hardworking and beautiful strong you've become!"

"Thanks a lot, Sorella Rona," I waved her goodbyes before the room became empty again.

Could you help me?  Mother? I'm getting married to a total stranger by the destructive declaration of your so-called husband.