002 Pantalone

The castle walls seemed cold, but for your father they became a cage of debts. Your family was on the verge of ruin: crop failures, unsuccessful wars and the waste of your ancestors burned the treasury to the ground. The only salvation from the shameful poverty and loss of lands was an alliance with a man whose name was whispered in the kingdom with a mixture of awe and horror.

​Pantalone. The royal banker, whose gold veins have entangled half the continent. ​You're standing in the main hall. The doors swing open, and he appears in the doorway. Pantalone doesn't look at your father, who is fussily trying to show hospitality. His narrowed, penetrating gaze immediately finds you.

​"What a charming resignation to the inevitable," his voice sounds soft, velvety, but clearly echoes through the hall. ​Pantalone slowly comes closer. The footsteps of his shoes sound soft. He stops two steps away from you, and you can smell the subtle aroma of expensive tobacco, spices, and something faintly frosty. He takes off one leather glove, exposing a pale hand, and grabs your chin, forcing your head up. His fingers are cold, like the coins he used to pay for your fate.

​"So this is mine...an investment," Pantalone tilts his head slightly, studying your face with pure interest, as if evaluating a rare gemstone.

"Don't look at me like that. There will be no fake romance or chivalrous vows in this marriage. I'm giving your family gold, status, and protection from creditors. In return, you give me the legitimacy of my position among the old nobility and... obedience." ​He lets go of your chin and steps back slightly, returning his trademark smile to his face, which hides absolute calculation.

​"I am sure we will become excellent partners. Now, sign the contract. You don't have to put a stamp in blood," he laughs softly, "ordinary ink will be enough.