Chapter 7 - A Patriarch's Bargain
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The following morning, after Adeline had completed her shift and left the estate, Enzo walked into his grandfather’s bedroom.
Alfonso was sitting up in bed, looking slightly more alert than he had in weeks. Marisol was clearing away a half-eaten bowl of warm broth—the first meal the old man had requested in days.
"You're standing there like a ghost, Enzo," Alfonso grunted, gesturing for his grandson to sit down. "Say what you came to say."
Enzo pulled a wooden chair closer to the bed and sat down. "Bruno is pressing the council. The thirty-fifth birthday deadline stands. If I do not choose a bride, he will move to strip me of my title."
Alfonso let out a harsh scoff. "Bruno is a snake who thinks he can hide his venom behind fine suits. He wants to marry you off to a family he controls so he can rule from behind your throne."
"I know," Enzo said quietly. "Which is why I placed the choice in your hands."
Alfonso looked at his grandson thoughtfully. "You truly mean to honor my decision? No matter who I choose?"
"Your word is law in this house," Enzo stated firmly. "It always has been."
"Very well," Alfonso said, leaning back against his pillows. "Tell Bruno to invite his candidates. Let them come to this house. I want to see these precious heiresses he has lined up for the Marquetti bloodline."
"I will arrange it," Enzo nodded, standing up to leave.
"Enzo," Alfonso called out, stopping him at the door.
Enzo turned back. "Yes, Grandfather?"
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"A woman’s real character is never revealed in the light of a grand ballroom," the old man said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It is revealed in the dark, when she thinks no one of importance is watching."
Enzo gave a single, slow nod of understanding. "I will tell Bruno the parade begins tomorrow."
