***Author's Note: (This will the only author's note in the entire story) The reason that I am writing this is to almost critique the church that existed at the time and highlight the hypocrisy of the church itself. I am Christian, but I think that this is a much needed critique from a historical standpoint. For the show, I Medici, I wanted to experiment with the characters and see how well I could keep them within character and keep the storyline of the show, but change the perspective of their actions and words. Mainly Rinaldo delgi Albizzi and Giovanni de Medici. By adding Isabella, it increases the moral awareness of each character. Yes, the church and morals are large players in the TV show, but by contrasting each character next to someone who sacrificed their entire future for a vow (which was taken for reasons that are not going to be revealed quickly or be quite as expected) it shows how human each character is. So basically think of this story as an extended character study. Other than that quick note, please enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, I update every Monday and Thursday! -Solange-Annick***

FLORENCE, 1427

A teenage girl sat beside her mother and father in the mass for the death of Giovanni de Medici. Her hand gripped her mother's as she refused to look at her grandfather's lifeless body. It wasn't that hard to avert her eyes for the fact that a black veil obscured her face. She could feel the stares of the people of Florence. Everyone either wanted a glimpse of the most powerful man in the world or his granddaughter who evaded marriage for so long. Was she ugly? Deformed? Did she have scars all over her face?

Isabella de Medici should have been married off to a noble or rich family years ago. Yet here she sat with her family watching over her dead grandfather.
Isabella recalled the words of the man in the crowd. "He was a tyrant. You know he ruined anybody who got in his way! He does not deserve to be mourned! We should celebrate!" Isabella privately agreed with the man. Hearing the news of her grandfather's death almost made her cry tears of joy. Seeing the mournful faces of the rest of her family told her to do otherwise.

"What the people of Florence owe Giovanni de Medici, they could never repay in gold. The Lord blessed his family with great wealth. Yet he acted not from greed, but from conviction."

Isabella inwardly scoffed. Her grandfather did not deserve such honors.

She buried her head in her father's chest and felt his arm wrap around her small body. To an outsider, it would seem that a father was comforting a mourning daughter. The truth was kept within her family- Isabella could not stand such a respectful ceremony for her dead grandfather. The knowledge of where his soul was falling made her sick to her stomach, but she knew he was deserving of the punishment.

Across the nave, Isabella locked eyes with Ormanno degli Albizzi. His father sat stiffly beside his son and paid respectable attention to the funeral. Ormanno quickly averted his eyes when Cosimo noticed the gaze between the two. Isabella felt her father hold her a little tighter, as if he was protecting her from his sworn enemy. Cosimo knew of their friendship, but did approve because Isabella's grandfather severed the relationship years ago. Now that Giovanni was dead, the question of her father's approval remained unanswered.

Isabella felt that it was not positive.

The youngest Medici admired the stained glass she had not seen in years while a castrato voice filled the hall. A whisper interrupted her bliss.

"Cosimo, I need to speak to you after the funeral. Immediately."

Isabella knew Marco's tone well. He did not use it often. It was reserved for dire situations. Her father nodded and Marco disappeared back into the crowd.

"Oh! I just cannot wait to take you shopping!" Lucrezia took another pin out of Isabella's hair. The curled lock fell to the side of her face. Lucrezia ran her fingers through the curls, something Isabella had inherited from her father. "You will look beautiful in green, just like mother."

Isabella let her reflection in the mirror smile. "I suppose I do need a few things, considering I will be going outside."

Lucrezia sat on the bench beside Isabella. The girl because acutely aware of how dull- no ugly- she was in comparison to Lucrezia. Her sister in law had flawless skin, dark blond hair, and a figure. Isabella had none of those qualities. Part of her face was covered with scars from a bout of the plague, her hair was dark as mud and unfortunately had a few grays, and she was as thin as a stick. All muscle and no grace. "I wish I was as pretty as you," Isabella said.

"Oh, nonsense," Lucrezia pulled a drawer open. "You are beautiful in your own way. I mean, you must be smarter than your brother and I put together. Not to mention, you can hold your own against any man."

She sat a small cannister on the table. Inside was a light, almost translucent powder. Very gently, Lucrezia dabbed some of the makeup on Isabella's scars and carefully blended it with the rest of her skin. Isabella watched in the mirror. Lucrezia wasn't making the scar disappear completely, but simply making them less apparent.

"Oh.." Isabella leaned closer to the mirror.

"See?" Lucrezia tapped Isabella's chin. "You have so much potential with the right resources."

Isabella admired herself while Lucrezia poured a cup of wine. "Do you know what Father and Marco were discussing today?"

"Sorry?" Isabella wasn't completely paying attention.

"At the funeral," she said. "Marco whispered something in Father's ear. Since you were right there I figured you must have heard something."

"It was just that Marco had to speak to him urgently. It's probably none of our business."

Lucrezia sighed. "Grandfather made you so timid. You used to be curious."

Isabella narrowed her eyes. I'm not timid, she thought. It's just that I know the consequences for being curious. Her cheek stung with the memory. Lucrezia was never punished. Just Isabella.

"I think it had something to do with Grandfather's death," Isabella spoke. She hoped to prove Lucrezia wrong about her curiosity.

"I think so too," Lucrezia handed Isabella a cup of wine while she sipped her own. "That's the only thing Marco would be concerned about at this moment."

"Well…" Isabella started but decided to shut her mouth.

"You would know," Lucrezia said. "You are around him the most."

The way Lucrezia spoke made Isabella uneasy- as if she was implying anything but innocence. "That doesn't mean I have constant access to his innermost thoughts."

"You probably do, but don't realize it," Lucrezia sat next to Isabella and leaned forward with a smile on her face. "I've seen you two practicing. Hot and sweaty. I don't think you go unbound while fencing just for the comfort."

"Lucrezia!" Isabella stood abruptly. "How dare you! He is like a father to me! And you know I took a vow!"

The smirk didn't leave Lucrezia's face. "Just because you took a vow of virginity doesn't mean you can't enjoy a presence."

Isabella shook her head, she a nearly shaking due to how offended she was. "I have things to do. So do you."

She left the room. Lucrezia and her had always disagreed on the vow- in a different way than the rest of the family. Lucrezia had wondered how Isabella could abandon intimacy and the opposite sex for a life of servitude to the church. "You're one step away from dying an unloved nun in a convent who never felt the touch of a man." She would say, as if that wasn't the entire point of the Vow of Perpetual Virginity. The rest of the family was scandalized that she would betray the family line at not allow them to marry with the rest of the society- let alone two months before an arranged marriage.

Her grandfather was scandalized the most. After the vow, she was no longer a Medici in his eyes. She was lower than a servant- for her one purpose had been lost.

She continued down the corridor past her father's study. "Isabella!"

Cosimo stood in his doorway as Marco and Lorenzo left the study. He was worried. Isabella could read him like a book. His tense stance, furrowed brows, and death grip on his door caused a feeling of a sinking rock in her stomach. "Yes?"

"I need to speak to you. Now."

She swallowed, but followed her father inside the room regardless.

The study was recently inherited by her father- it was her grandfathers. She knew the room almost too well. Any time she stepped slightly out of line (or if her grandfather was in a bad mood) she would be sat in front of his desk and wait for the inevitable. The armrests of the chair had nail markings in the hardwood, a physical sign of Isabella's struggle not to cry or scream from the result of her grandfather's anger.

Nothing but fear entered Isabella's heart by entering the room.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Cosimo spoke softly. He pulled a chair next to his daughter. "I just a have a question."

Isabella nodded. Her father's reassuring words did not help and her hands slipped to their familiar places- full of scratches.

"Isabella," he voice was shaky. "Did you ever want to kill your grandfather?"