Prolugue
A title handed down by the Crown to its allies.
A mere honorific title for the services rendered by his ancestors to the House of Medici. A Vieux riche who founded the largest banking company in the country.
After a long lineage, the house itself bore branches through marriages, the earldom was now conferred to the House of Veserati. Of course, elder members of the house were boasting its pride for a title that didn’t mean much in the current world but held enough power that leveled with the current president. Members work as the loyal underdog of the current crown of Europe and the government; the family itself conquered and left their mark in wide areas that rendered service to both upper class and lower classes, from politics, military, education, health, and research, especially to charities.
The Veseratis always try to play it lowkey and seemed to appear as the mediator if a power struggle ensues in the system, but the family itself was held by greed for the title, influence, and the power it provides. The first earl of the house has made sure that they remain the title and the power under the condition that they will aid and support the current and future government. The Veserati has always been an aide to the government as its benefactor, thus one cannot say that government is above the family. That’s how the title was protected for centuries.
Who would want to be an enemy of a family that can be the greatest ally one could have?
For years they held tightly on the title that was barely known to common citizens. The most citizen would just link up the surnames, who’s related to whom, but that’s just about that. Some would just conclude that Veseratis are the Vieux riche family who founded the oldest banking company in the country.
After all, the titles of nobilities were somewhat wiped out from the current modern world.
Unknown to the current common citizens, the title of earldom itself had fiefdom, or territories mainly in the northern part of Italy, a total of 35 counties over the northern and held some territory in Florence, Tuscany, and Sicily. Besides the banking company that was already in the hands of the ancestors before the house of Veserati conferred, their lands were lease for the citizens who needed them. A factor why the house members themselves stayed at the top 1% of the population for centuries.
The current head, the earl or count of the House of Veserati - Conte di of Asti, Alonzo Giovanni Fiore- Veserati the firstborn of the firstborn just abdicated the title.
There was a minute stir within the house since he was the first earl to abdicated the title.
He gritted his teeth as he adjusted the custom-made cufflinks. He heaves a deep sigh, one cannot abdicate a title unless you’re six feet under the ground. The man himself declared on one council meeting that he wished to step down and retired like a normal citizen. Now, by the Veserati council, a council made of elders and traditionalists petitioned to pass down the title to the firstborn of the firstborn, Lucas Giovanni Sullivan Veserati.
A surname he succeeded to remove once back in the West was still glued and irreversible when he stepped on the soil of the land where he was born.
He knew he was to be the earl when he was five. He was thought to be the head of the house since then. The position was lovely from the mouth of Aurora Fiore Veserati. The five-year-old Lucas was even excited to be conferred such title, now the much wiser and older Lucas detested it.
He couldn’t help but acidly stare at the family crest, the cufflinks, made to wear at any special occasion where all progeny of the house is to attend.
Lealtà (Loyalty)
Famiglia (Family)
Servizio (Service)
Beneficenza (Charity)
The four words, embedded on the House of Veserati crest. Words that live by each member, words that were taught in every progeny under the house. He couldn’t help but frown thinking of those words.
He raked his now long black locks, long enough to cover his aristocratic nose, combing it with his left hands away from his face. He barely recognized himself in front of the mirror. His humorless laugh eluded from his mouth, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself and at the aftermath of what has been done to his life.
As if the universe conspired against him, just so he could stand where he was reckoned to be.
His amber orbs were dull and empty, as if one snift off the life in him, a true representation of his life ahead. There were no regrets, of course, he was predestined for this course from the moment his late mother noticed that he was in her womb.
From the moment on, the life he would follow was written and planned out by the grandfather and father of his father. The patriarchy of the house was overjoyed of course, who wouldn’t? After four granddaughters, a firstborn son of the heir was born.
Since there were no written rules of succession, where the proclaimed heir(his father, Alonzo) can securely hold the title, the only written was vague and unchanged.
“Any first son of the generation can hold the title.”
His aunts, excluding his Aunt Nera who refused to wed and choose to be a spinster, the two younger sisters of his father, were the first to secure marriages; prayed and prayed to bear a son, hoping to get the title and power but it was all in vain. His father Alonzo, the eldest of the five siblings, proclaimed heir and eligible for the title was last to wed. It would have been better if his uncle(Alonzo’s second sibling) bore a son first, at least a month before Lucas but that was not the case.
It was the matter of the one who came first. The firstborn male in the progeny matters the most, his cousin would often jest.
Although the divorce(the first divorce in the house) of his parents was devastating and did major alterations in their lives, it has been a blessing in disguise. His mother was finally free from pressure, major scrutiny, and judgment, his mother would finally practice her profession after years, Lucas would finally be away from the line of succession-- after all a divorce and a product of divorce was highly frowned upon by solicitors and the Veserati council, this would deem him ineligible for the succession.
As he pondered over it, his father loved to do anything first. First divorce in the Veserati House, first abdication. Not to mention, he was the first Veserati to take in a non-Italian wife.
Speaking of liberty, Aurora Fiore Veserati wouldn’t just let her grandsons let their lives in liberty as they move to their mother’s birth country. She made sure she was involved in any way thus she ensued mandatory travel back and forth during breaks or vacation for lessons that have to do with history, governance, and succession.
He was blessed enough to live a life he wanted with the right amount of freedom back in another continent. He had corporate skills and experience, made a strong connection, friendships without any involvement of the titles and riches he had.
He found love or love had found him-- again and was promised with forever. The happiness he felt was beyond words, more than any gold or diamonds given, more than title or power bestowed, his love had said yes to him. It was liberating, no elders of the council would object, no laws to be followed. It was a promise of a lifetime, between two persons who were committed to each other.
Then again, life played tricks on him again. Conspired to bring him front and back to where he was supposed to be. It was always the time he felt the happiest like he could conquer the world when the forces of the universe decided to wreak havoc and left him with a scar.
A taste of his bitter reality.
His chest stung as he felt the familiar pain that he thought he was immune to. He shook his head at his forlorn reflection.
Enough.
He needed to get a grip and take control over his pathetic emotions, or else he would walk out to be the only loser again.
A knock on the double large oak wood door interrupted him, his amber orbs gazed back at the door through the mirror. He fixed his black tie in peace and checks the corsage on his right breast pocket as he waits for someone to utter words.
And thus the person utter words so unfamiliar to him, it made his insides squirm.
Then the voice urges him to step out of the room, to face his reality.
“Stanno aspettando.” They’re waiting.
A responsibility to the name, a certain standard of behavior to project.
A new fate bestowed.
A path paved and written for him to follow.
