@gdpiero
Despite his earlier arrival, Francesco was only now able to see his eldest brother. He rushed towards him, his strides long and urgent, and though of his siblings, he was perhaps the least close to Piero — he still was his older brother, and whatever tensions they may have had, they were family. He hadn’t embraced Piero in a long time, perhaps not since they were children, but now he did so without hesitation. “Fratello,” he said, his relief splattered animatedly across his features. “Your presence overwhelms me with comfort. I missed you dearly; these are trying times and your wisdom is required more than ever. What gesture will you send to the children of the departed Duke of Milan?” Francesco began with business; the affairs of the State were not usually his first priority, but the late Duke’s children were his peers, and the Duke a seemingly permanent figure in their lives, until it had indeed been proven otherwise. His next words came with more hesitation, and he said: “You have heard the words of the madman Orsini, I am sure. Fratello, how could a man slander the integrity of both mother and father so? Truly, will he be allowed to tarnish the image of de Medici uncontested? I know there is doubt now as to my paternity, but you have been my brother for my entire life. I cannot imagine a world in which we are not family. Piero, I look to you for advice. What must we do?”