#clarice: threads.

[helenaus]

[ @ofimaginarybeings​ ]

Clarice had tried all day to subdue her anxiety. Arriving in Florence had been overwhelming enough: getting to know her new city, her new house, her new family was a lot to take in in itself… but the thought of meeting Lorenzo for the first time after they’d been marriage unnerved her the most. That they’d been married by proxy made it even stranger. The first and only conversation they ever had before kept coming back to her memory: I told him I would never be wed to anyone… and yet here I am, his wife. God, I hope I’ve done the right thing. Bianca and Lucrezia had introduced her to this new home and made her feel as welcome as they could, but they could only assist her so much when it came to adjusting to all these changes. 

Her private chambers were empty when she entered. Clarice had been a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be there to receive her - how much easier it would have been - but she knew that Medici business could wait for no one. So after a maid had washed and combed her hair, she climbed on the bed for a moment, thinking. There were so many roles that she’d have to play now… Wife, daughter and sister in-law, a mother at some point in the future, a Medici most of all. It still felt strange to her. Marriage ought to be the natural fate of an Orsini, but she never readied herself for it: the future that she’d planned couldn’t have been more far removed from this life… but she’d agreed to this, and having given her word to her family that she would wed Lorenzo, Clarice refused to look back.

So she tried to make herself comfortable. The mattress was warm and cozy against her back: certainly a good start for her endeavor. The bed seemed to surround her limbs in a maternal embrace and Clarice sighed, closing her eyes. She didn’t know when she’d dozed off once they were open again, but the knocking on the door startled her into an abrupt wakefulness. She combed her fingers through her hair, fixing her veil over her head. Her hands patted the fabric of her gown as she stepped closer to the door, making sure that her appearance was properly fixed before she could open it.

At last he was there, and all she could do was blush, sending her gaze down.

“Lorenzo…”, she said, chuckling timidly. “You were right about this, after all…”

[helenaus]

@anoddbunch ;; from x.

It was about one or two seconds too long until Clarice understood Lorenzo was making a joke, but she tried to compensate for that delay as well as she could, by flashing an amused, timid smile. She felt so foolish around the people of Florence. Humor had seldom played any part in her upbringing, yet it came so naturally to him that a part of her inevitably wondered what kind of person she would have become, had she grown up among them. Someone more free spirited, perhaps? Someone who shared his tastes for art and literature, who wouldn’t respond so awkwardly at his sweet attempts to make her laugh…

“They have been very kind to me”, she replied, all manners and propriety. Still, her fingers nervously toyed with the locks of her hair and Clarice chewed her lip as she watched him. It wasn’t just Florence that had this effect on her, was it? Lorenzo’s presence had a certain power over her that she found difficult to assimilate – she’d noticed that he was handsome from the day they’d met, of course, but with her thoughts turned to the church it’d barely occurred to her to pay attention to such worldly things. But now she was his wife, and his beauty was starting to discompose her in a way she’d never experienced before. “I’m told we are to have a feast”, Clarice told him, watching his face in expectation. “I’m looking forward to meeting your guests.”