The beginnings of the rivalry between House Constantine and House Wilde began nearly two hundred years ago. It began born from greed and lust and a number of sins far too numerous to count. Each side has their own version of the tale vilifying the other, but the truth is far more simple than either make it out to be, less filled with lies and treason than they would have you believe.
Once there had been a great stede, carved out in the center of Soelthoria. The Bellagio House ruled there, but years of ailments had left their numbers few. Still they ruled. There were no cousins, no bastard half-siblings. There were only three: Lady Bellagio, Lord Bellagio and their daughter the ever beautiful Mirabelle Bellagio. As she grew older, tales of her beauty grew with her. It was rumored that she was so lovely it hurt one’s eyes to look upon her. They said her skin was milky smooth, her hair in lovely red curls. They said she had the voice of the goddess and her laughter sounded like the tinkling of bells. Of course, whether this was truth or not is entirely lost in the record. She was the last of her name and highly sought after in any case.
A hundred men came to court her, and she turned them all away. Lady Mirabelle knew better than to indulge every man who walked through her door. It seemed that she was not only beautiful but clever at that. Each man came to her and she would ask them if they were worthy of her hand. They would insist and plead with her, and she would only ask for proof. She would ask them to prove their worth and so they would joust for her, they would present her with great gifts and she would send them away one by one.
Many years passed and she believed she would never find a suitable husband, a suitable man to carry on the weight of her stede. Her parents had died off and she was alone. Mirabelle alone carried the weight and the history of the Bellagio name. She was still young and beautiful, but was growing weary of such trivialities. Two men came before her one day, and it changed everything. Their names were Peter Wilde and Iwan Constantine.
Peter Wilde offered her the greatest furs of his stede and more. He told her that he could not prove he was worthy by himself, as only she could tell him her worth. She found this utterly amusing after so many offers of gold and jewels, she told him he may stay. Then Iwan came forward. He said he could give her the endless seas. Having never seen the ocean, Mirabelle was enchanted with the idea. She said, he too could stay.
And so began a long courtship.
It started innocent enough, but the longer Mirabelle stalled, the more bitter their rivalry became. Perhaps she was lonely, having lost any remaining family and wanted the company, or perhaps she liked watching them dance around for her affections. Whatever the case may be, it went on for years. Three to be precise.
At the end of three long years, Mirabelle announced she would choose her husband on the first day of the new year. Finally, finally after such a long time the fate of her stede would be known. Yet, she did not make it that far. She was found drowned in the lake that very night, her red hair splayed out around her and her wide blue eyes open but sightless. Peter Wilde blamed Iwan Constantine and in turn Iwan Constantine blamed Peter Wilde. They fought viciously until the advisors tore them apart and sent them home. The land had no heir and neither Wilde nor Constantine had a claim to it.
The king had to step in and both men came before him. They both claimed the land was theirs by right as they had earned Mirabelle’s love. They both insisted that the day following her apparent death that they would be declared the husband-to-be. Many men were called before the king to testify on either man’s behalf, but none were honest. All were found to be lying. The truth was that Mirabelle had told her decision to no one.
She hadn’t made one.
The truth was she was lonely after the loss of her parents and the only thing that kept her going was the affections of her two lovers. Mirabelle knew that those two would fade away, and the moment she chose a husband she would be obsolete. They would have her land and if they got an heir from her, she needn’t even be alive for any longer of it. She jumped from the city wall and landed in the lake to end it all, the fate of her lands be damned.
The king did not grant the Bellagio’s stede to House Constantine or House Wilde. Instead a new house was put in play: House d’Tela. Strangely enough neither House Constantine nor House Wilde fault House d’Tela. Instead they fault each other. To this day they tell stories of how the vile House Constantine drowned Mirabelle Bellagio lest she shame their house by choosing Peter Wilde, or they say the disgusting House Wilde pushed her from the bridge hoping to take the land by force. With each generation the story becomes more obscene, more vile, and the hatred grows.