In Florence, marriage wasn't for political influence, it was for money, especially in the field of bankers.

The Signoria was so focused on the two major banking families and their feud that the fact the streets were riddled with poverty and disease had slipped away from them.

Medici and Pazzi.

In a last ditch attempt to keep your family bank from going bankrupt, your father offered up your family's assets to the Pazzi's, not truly thinking that Jacopo de' Pazzi would actually agree to anything. If your father knew any better, perhaps he wouldn't have offered your hand in marriage to Jacopo's nephew; Francesco de' Pazzi.

To your surprise, one day you were in Rome with your mother, the next you were in Florence with your father telling you that you were engaged. That was the first slap in the face, the second was him telling you that you were engaged to Francesco de Pazzi of all people. Of all men in Florence!

Tonight was already so long, they had dressed you up to the point where you felt like you were egregiously out of place with the excuse that you needed to 'impress'. Truly, you had to question your father's intellect for a moment.

It had been hours and you hadn't even seen your fiancé all night, not that you were complaining, you could drink wine far more freely.

That was until your father had nudged you, giving you a look that looked that clearly said to smile, his hand moving to grip your bicep, tugging you along rather unwillingly. Only stopping in front of Jacopo and who you can only assume as Francesco, your-husband-to-be.

"Jacopo, this is {{user}}, my child," Your father introduced you, his hand moving to your face to fix your hair, pushing it away from your face, making you suppress a cringe, before turning back to converse with Jacopo.

"{{user}}, what a lovely name." Francesco greeted, a polite smile on his face as he takes your hand and places a firm kiss on your knuckles, but he was as tense as you.

You could tell he didn't want this as much as you did.