The young heir apparent to Medici family seemed to be going through a... phase. Giovanni didn't have any other words for it. Over the past month, he had been summoned to the Medici palazzo or to their country estate on increasingly trivial reasons, sometimes even in the middle of the afternoon, including but not limited to assisting Lorenzo with his ledgers, or looking for his sister Nannina's pet cat, once even to fetch a particular vintage of wine from the bazaar.
It hadn't seemed like a prank – or if it was, Giovanni supposed that it was entirely possible that he lacked a mind subtle enough to appreciate it. Today, after handing Lorenzo his brother Giuliano's 'missing' lute (propped in an unlikely position on top of a bookcase in the palazzo library), Giovanni tried fixing his young master with a stern expression even through Lorenzo's elegantly worded thanks.
“A servant could have found that for you, padrone.”
“Not as efficiently.” Lorenzo said dismissively, seemingly absorbed in his ledger, nibbling on the tip of his quill with an air of concentration that was, Giovanni would admit, entirely endearing. “Did you have aught else to discuss?”
“Perhaps on the necessity of having to find a lute with maximum efficiency,” Giovanni said dryly. “Padrone, may I remind you that when I pledged my blade to you, it was for bladework only, not to assist you in locating your and your siblings' various misplaced toys.”
“There isn't any bladework to be had at the moment,” Lorenzo said, then he chewed on his lip as if he had inadvertently said the wrong thing, glancing quickly up at Giovanni as though to check if the assassin had noticed. A little taken aback, Giovanni blinked, and Lorenzo's cheeks colored a faint pink. “If you have no further business here, you may leave.”
“If anything is troubling you, padrone, you need merely advise me of it and I will fix it for you.” Giovanni decided to skirt around the issue. Lorenzo tended to react badly when embarrassed, particularly if it involved something that the young lord considered juvenile. This tended to include the vast majority of matters, save those of State, and sometimes Giovanni wondered if it was the pressure of power's mantle or being in the shadow of the Medici family's handsome golden boy, Giuliano, that made Lorenzo unnecessarily complicated outside of the arena of politics.
“Many problems beset the Medici at every turn,” Lorenzo seemed to retreat to rote with relief. “But unfortunately you cannot fix all of them for me.”
“I pledged my blade to you, not to the Medici,” Giovanni corrected, and the pink in Lorenzo's cheeks deepened to rose. A sudden, uncomfortable thought rose all unbidden, and Lorenzo looked up sharply when Giovanni deliberately circled around the desk so that he could lean in closer. Instantly, Lorenzo's back snapped ramrod straight in his chair, his elegant fingers curling along the edge of his desk. Giovanni smiled, until Lorenzo's eyes darted away and he squirmed. “Padrone?”
“I said that you may leave,” Lorenzo growled, his gaze swinging back, intense in defensive indignation.
“I 'may', but I have decided not to,” Giovanni drawled, and added, “Altezza.”
This time, Lorenzo was prepared; his glare did not waver, and his lip curled, very slightly. “I will not entertain being ridiculed, Giovanni.”
“And I,” Giovanni said mildly, reaching over to tap a gloved forefinger against Giuliano's lute, “Will not entertain being summoned to your office to attend to frivolous concerns.” When Lorenzo jerked back, as though at a blow, Giovanni added, more kindly, “If you wanted company, you need only say so, padrone.”
“Company for company's sake?” Lorenzo's tone held distaste. “That would be a waste of time.”
“What about for the sake of instruction? A learning experience,” Giovanni elaborated, when Lorenzo looked puzzled.
“Learning? What would I have to learn from you?”
“Conjecture, padrone,” Giovanni smiled, reaching forward to rub gentle circles with the thumb of his right hand up Lorenzo's left sleeve, pressing his forefinger down against the flutter of his master's quickening heartbeat.
Trivial Pursuits [1/1]
The young heir apparent to Medici family seemed to be going through a... phase. Giovanni didn't have any other words for it. Over the past month, he had been summoned to the Medici palazzo or to their country estate on increasingly trivial reasons, sometimes even in the middle of the afternoon, including but not limited to assisting Lorenzo with his ledgers, or looking for his sister Nannina's pet cat, once even to fetch a particular vintage of wine from the bazaar.
It hadn't seemed like a prank – or if it was, Giovanni supposed that it was entirely possible that he lacked a mind subtle enough to appreciate it. Today, after handing Lorenzo his brother Giuliano's 'missing' lute (propped in an unlikely position on top of a bookcase in the palazzo library), Giovanni tried fixing his young master with a stern expression even through Lorenzo's elegantly worded thanks.
“A servant could have found that for you, padrone.”
“Not as efficiently.” Lorenzo said dismissively, seemingly absorbed in his ledger, nibbling on the tip of his quill with an air of concentration that was, Giovanni would admit, entirely endearing. “Did you have aught else to discuss?”
“Perhaps on the necessity of having to find a lute with maximum efficiency,” Giovanni said dryly. “Padrone, may I remind you that when I pledged my blade to you, it was for bladework only, not to assist you in locating your and your siblings' various misplaced toys.”
“There isn't any bladework to be had at the moment,” Lorenzo said, then he chewed on his lip as if he had inadvertently said the wrong thing, glancing quickly up at Giovanni as though to check if the assassin had noticed. A little taken aback, Giovanni blinked, and Lorenzo's cheeks colored a faint pink. “If you have no further business here, you may leave.”
“If anything is troubling you, padrone, you need merely advise me of it and I will fix it for you.” Giovanni decided to skirt around the issue. Lorenzo tended to react badly when embarrassed, particularly if it involved something that the young lord considered juvenile. This tended to include the vast majority of matters, save those of State, and sometimes Giovanni wondered if it was the pressure of power's mantle or being in the shadow of the Medici family's handsome golden boy, Giuliano, that made Lorenzo unnecessarily complicated outside of the arena of politics.
“Many problems beset the Medici at every turn,” Lorenzo seemed to retreat to rote with relief. “But unfortunately you cannot fix all of them for me.”
“I pledged my blade to you, not to the Medici,” Giovanni corrected, and the pink in Lorenzo's cheeks deepened to rose. A sudden, uncomfortable thought rose all unbidden, and Lorenzo looked up sharply when Giovanni deliberately circled around the desk so that he could lean in closer. Instantly, Lorenzo's back snapped ramrod straight in his chair, his elegant fingers curling along the edge of his desk. Giovanni smiled, until Lorenzo's eyes darted away and he squirmed. “Padrone?”
“I said that you may leave,” Lorenzo growled, his gaze swinging back, intense in defensive indignation.
“I 'may', but I have decided not to,” Giovanni drawled, and added, “Altezza.”
This time, Lorenzo was prepared; his glare did not waver, and his lip curled, very slightly. “I will not entertain being ridiculed, Giovanni.”
“And I,” Giovanni said mildly, reaching over to tap a gloved forefinger against Giuliano's lute, “Will not entertain being summoned to your office to attend to frivolous concerns.” When Lorenzo jerked back, as though at a blow, Giovanni added, more kindly, “If you wanted company, you need only say so, padrone.”
“Company for company's sake?” Lorenzo's tone held distaste. “That would be a waste of time.”
“What about for the sake of instruction? A learning experience,” Giovanni elaborated, when Lorenzo looked puzzled.
“Learning? What would I have to learn from you?”
“Conjecture, padrone,” Giovanni smiled, reaching forward to rub gentle circles with the thumb of his right hand up Lorenzo's left sleeve, pressing his forefinger down against the flutter of his master's quickening heartbeat.