Kristiano was born into a large family, the youngest of his generation for many years. For eight years, his parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents doted on him, friends of the family too. Then his brother was born and soon after more cousins were born into the family. While many shifted their attentions, Kristiano remained favoured with his grandmother, her heir-his closest aunt and the youngest of his uncles.
They favoured him, loved him and took care to aid in his upbringing. But soon his uncle left in search of riches, and his aunt had two more children of her own who occupied her affections. Only his grandmother remained constant in her affections of him, and he loved her just the same. Perhaps it was the loss of her husband or Kristiano's resemblance to him, whatever it was there was only one truth, they were inseparable from each other.
As he grew into a young man, to the age where he could attend balls and other festivities he accompanied his grandmother. He was her escort, her partner, her shield and her right hand. When she retreated from social events he stayed with her. They talked and laughed on many things, business, politics, religion, philosophy, agriculture, and family.
Kristiano spent much of his time in the presence of his grandmother, that many in the family began to label him as her lover. Neither of them paid mind to the jest, they did love each other. Kristiano was drawn to his grandmother, admired her as a woman, her strength, her character, her morals. She inspired him, even when his mother found his failings to be a disappointment and chastised him, she showed him the good in himself.
Just as his grandmother offered him hope and a haven, so too did he offer her the same. Her husband's death had grieved her, her children were grown and tended to their families, her grandchildren more often than not, sought out her presence when they needed money or favours. Kristiano kept the loneliness at bay, he was genuinely interested in staying at her side not for money or favour, but her company.
Then Kristiano was of marriageable age, his mother arranged his engagement to a young woman. A woman who belonged to a family of sea traders. The engagement was one of convenience, access to the woman's family's ships meant more ports for them to trade. Twice he brought his betrothed to visit with his grandmother, and after each visit, his grandmother inquired whether he loved the girl.
His answer was always hesitant, he knew the benefits of marrying her, whether he loved her mattered little when there was so much the family would gain. But on the third visit his grandmother asked again, 'Do you love her?', he did not and answered as such. 'Then do not wed her' so simple was the advice, yet so heavy the consequences. But his grandmother had more advice.
"Marry the girl you love, but love carefully. Your wife must be knowledgeable and willing to improve herself, she should also love you in return. That is all I wish for you child."
Kristiano rejected the engagement and his mother flew into a rage, but his grandmother stood with him. His mother was angry with them both but she retreated. His admiration and love for his grandmother soared, he spent more hours in her presence, they never tired of each other.
But her health began to decline, and she soon began to pray for a swift, peaceful death. Kristiano begged her not to pray for such a dreadful thing. But she insisted her life had met it's mark, her children were grown, grandchildren too, some had died before her- including her heir. She had seen great-grandchildren born into the family and was content there would be more generations after she was gone.
They started small at first, her remarks on death, but as the months wore on and the seasons changed she began to speak more on the matter. It broke Kristiano's heart. Everytime she spoke of her death he begged her not to.
"I have yet to find a wife. You cannot die, not until you have seen and blessed my first born."
She laughed at him and promised to wait a while longer. Even if a person wishes to have more time, or that the time runs out quicker, their clock ticks independently of their intentions. Unless they choose to deliberately exit life. As the weeks ticked on, Kristiano watched his grandmother get frailer and weaker, her declining state giving him nightmares that haunted him almost every night.
Then one day as they sat talking, she reached her hand out to him, he took it and she drew him near her, whispering into his ear.
"I have a small fortune saved with one of the merchant banks in the capital. I wish you to be the inheritor of it."
"That is your money grandmother, you are still alive, you will have need of it."
"Kristiano."
"I refuse. To accept it would be to accept that you are dying. I refuse."
He looked into her cloudy eyes, a tear running down his cheek. She wiped it away and reprimanded him.
"I will die Kristiano, as we all must. But I do not wish to see this family torn apart over the fortune I leave behind."
"Then give it to another."
"You know I cannot give it to the others, they will squander it. You silly boy, let me go."
"I do not want to."
"You will have to. Either you do it now of your own free will, or you are forced to upon my death."
"You can't die. I need you to live for another fifty years."
More tears streaked his face, his grandmother pitied him.
"Go, hide your tears before someone sees you. A man of our blood never cries."
Fifteen days later, his grandmother was bedridden. Kristiano stayed at her side as often as he could, but he had new demands aiding the family's businesses. The morning of her last day, Kristiano visited his grandmother early in the morning as he often did with his mother. He held her hand and told her a story that made her laugh. She ran a frail hand through his hair and blessed him.
"May you lead our family well after your mother. I love you, my beloved grandson, Kristos."
Kristiano's world stopped for a few seconds, seconds that seemed to stretch on forever. Kristos was his younger brother, few times did he visit grandmother in a given month. She called Kristos her beloved. The tears brimming in his eyes fell over, missing his cheeks and soaking the breast of his shirt.
"I love you too grandmother. I will return later, rest well."
That was the last he saw of her, his grandmother died at mid morning. Yet no one in the family had told Kristiano, instead they all avoided him. He paid no heed to the change in their attitudes, his work was consuming enough and required all his attention. When he returned to the house that evening, he found his grandmother missing, the room was empty with black mourning cloth over her items.
He didn't know what to feel, how to feel. Before she died, the thought of her death devastated him, yet here he stood in her room, aware of her death and he felt nothing. He wasn't upset, he wasn't angry nor was he sad. He was just...there. He walked out of her room, his family in the hall all watching him intently. They all expected him to be hit the hardest, but he was the calmest on receiving the knowledge of her death, not even shedding a tear. He looked around at most of his family and proclaimed-
"She is dead."
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