Marianna Furotazzi
Fortuna Survivor
Marianna could have kissed Ivo. She had half a mind to do so anyway, audience be damned. Let the Duke see that she'd managed to build a life for herself not because of what he'd done to her, but in spite of it. It wasn't the life her mother would have wanted for her, but that was his fault, not hers. She leveled her gaze as the Duke as she squeezed her fiancé's paw. "Having met your current wife, Duke," she added to her partner's barbed retort, "I am certain that you are familiar with the dynamics of a relationship with a powerful vixen. Mr. Suresight is my partner and equal in all respects, and I will treat any slight to him as personally as he regards any toward me." It was a hint of warning to the Duke. He had already crossed the lines of propriety in approaching them; they, in turn, had fired a shot across the bow. A retreat was in order lest open hostilities result.
Marianna tilted her head as she considered the man. "Did you know that my mother kept diaries, Duke Ryalor? I didn't, not until I made an effort to study her life. Apparently they were in a Fogey evidence locker for nearly twenty years before being moved to the Niceties Public Records Archive. She wrote a great deal about you. At her most kind, she called you a todd devoted to his family, a trait that reminded her of her husband as he'd once been - her highest compliment. She also called you a petty beast, one fixated upon status, vengeful of any slight, and utterly intractable once set on a self-defeating course - again, a reminder of her husband as he became, perhaps the harshest condemnation she could offer." She leveled her gaze at him as she stated, "I have no love for my father. He ceased to be that long before Vito stole me from my mother's home. Your vendetta with him I even could agree with, but for one thing: you two petty, self-important beasts, in your obsession with legacy and vengeance, destroyed the lives of everyone around you. I cannot sanction your actions, for they were never honorable in intent; nor can I offer you forgiveness, for I do not trust that you truly believe they were wrong. You came here to soothe your conscience at my and my mother's expense. I have no obligation to offer you a balm for that wound, for you have offered none for the one you inflicted upon me."
She wondered if her mother, when chastising her father for his foolishness, had sounded much the same. She doubted it; her mother's diaries held, in smaller words than Marianna preferred for herself, a gentle and compassionate spirit. Perhaps Marianna had more of her father's stubbornness in her spirit than she'd believed.
~~~
Mina Rose gladly let her paw soak in the water and marinate in the honey, not wanting to say how much she appreciated Kaii breaking off the ritual to care for her. She wouldn't have blamed him if he'd wanted to keep going right away, but it meant a lot that he was willing to focus on her first. She hoped that his ancestors would be understanding and would take pride in what a thoughtful and caring todd he'd grown up to be.
She blinked at his question, then blushed deeply, looking away in embarrassment. "Aw, ih' tweren' nothin'," she demurred. "Mah imagination jus' ran wild wiv' me fer a sec 'ere. Ah go' ta imaginin' yer gran'mammy, wha' kinda vixen she musta been, an' Ah reckon Ah go' a bi' too wrapped up in 't." She tilted her head, her own curiosity getting the better of her. "Do ya know if'n she was a big ol' white vixen wiv' green eyes, an' one a' 'em massive Fyadorian swords." She furrowed her brow, trying to recall the details. "She said mah name, clear as you sittin' across from me. Is 'at a good sign, 'er knowin' mah name?" She looked to him anxiously, hoping that the story would be well-received.
Marianna tilted her head as she considered the man. "Did you know that my mother kept diaries, Duke Ryalor? I didn't, not until I made an effort to study her life. Apparently they were in a Fogey evidence locker for nearly twenty years before being moved to the Niceties Public Records Archive. She wrote a great deal about you. At her most kind, she called you a todd devoted to his family, a trait that reminded her of her husband as he'd once been - her highest compliment. She also called you a petty beast, one fixated upon status, vengeful of any slight, and utterly intractable once set on a self-defeating course - again, a reminder of her husband as he became, perhaps the harshest condemnation she could offer." She leveled her gaze at him as she stated, "I have no love for my father. He ceased to be that long before Vito stole me from my mother's home. Your vendetta with him I even could agree with, but for one thing: you two petty, self-important beasts, in your obsession with legacy and vengeance, destroyed the lives of everyone around you. I cannot sanction your actions, for they were never honorable in intent; nor can I offer you forgiveness, for I do not trust that you truly believe they were wrong. You came here to soothe your conscience at my and my mother's expense. I have no obligation to offer you a balm for that wound, for you have offered none for the one you inflicted upon me."
She wondered if her mother, when chastising her father for his foolishness, had sounded much the same. She doubted it; her mother's diaries held, in smaller words than Marianna preferred for herself, a gentle and compassionate spirit. Perhaps Marianna had more of her father's stubbornness in her spirit than she'd believed.
~~~
Mina Rose gladly let her paw soak in the water and marinate in the honey, not wanting to say how much she appreciated Kaii breaking off the ritual to care for her. She wouldn't have blamed him if he'd wanted to keep going right away, but it meant a lot that he was willing to focus on her first. She hoped that his ancestors would be understanding and would take pride in what a thoughtful and caring todd he'd grown up to be.
She blinked at his question, then blushed deeply, looking away in embarrassment. "Aw, ih' tweren' nothin'," she demurred. "Mah imagination jus' ran wild wiv' me fer a sec 'ere. Ah go' ta imaginin' yer gran'mammy, wha' kinda vixen she musta been, an' Ah reckon Ah go' a bi' too wrapped up in 't." She tilted her head, her own curiosity getting the better of her. "Do ya know if'n she was a big ol' white vixen wiv' green eyes, an' one a' 'em massive Fyadorian swords." She furrowed her brow, trying to recall the details. "She said mah name, clear as you sittin' across from me. Is 'at a good sign, 'er knowin' mah name?" She looked to him anxiously, hoping that the story would be well-received.
