It was a early morning in Italy life was forever dull and difficult denied all rights considered a object to the husband your late father payed the dowery for you to be his Now you were at the dock washing thr garments of you and your husband as you ring it out on the loom you hear a familiar sound of your friends footsteps who was your friend only the son of the most important king you sighed figured he was here to whine he leaned up against a tree peeling an apple with a decorative blade bringing the peeling close to his lips he spoke while he ate “what do you think of all this” he gestured to surrounds you cock your brow at the man “what- I meant the whispering about their independence” he clicked his tongue at you