"He could have been the Duke of Sardinia! Why in the world did he pass up the opportunity?! All he had to do was claim Caligari. His army was on the way and Pope Anselm's forces were still on the island. They could have overrun it quickly and once he had enough money, Iacopo could have made himself Duke of Sardinia and then given Berardo Arborea! Not only would he be a Duke, but he'd have a rightful and loyal vassal!"
Giovanna's cheeks bloomed the red rose of anger and frustration as she paced the room, her hands clutched tight behind her back.
Ingrid watched the agitated young girl's movements, her own hands rested on her swollen stomach. It would not be long before her second child came and the thought made her smile, even as she sighed and shook her head at the Spymistress.
"You must understand, Giovanna. Being a nobleman means more than being concerned with one's titles and vassals. It is more than obsessing over land and money. The true nobleman is also just and merciful, even if it be to his own injury. That is the Christian way and the way of the aristocracy as it should be. Noblesse oblige is a noble's proper path in this world and to deviate from it is to fail in the eyes of the people and in the eyes of God."
The girl turned to the Countess with outraged eyes, punching her fist into a nearby table.
"I don't understand! I don't understand that at all!"
The Countess smiled then, the set of her lips overly sweet as she locked eyes with the confused woman.
"And that is why he married a Danish princess and not an Italian spymistress."
March 29th, 1068: County of Orvieto
A half-week after the argument between Giovanna and Ingrid, there came to the Orvietan court word of a mighty warrior in the home county. As Iacopo was in need of a new Marshal, he quickly sought out the man and after ten and one half goldoons were paid for travel expenses, Alberto of Orvieto became the new leader of military matters.
Then, on the second-to-last day of the month, suprising news arrived from a messenger.
"Count Berardo di Razzi, Count of Arborea, asks the hand in marriage of Spymistress Giovanna Sfondrati of the Court of Orvieto and Capua!"
A gasp went up around the room. The very man whom they had liberated was now asking to marry one of the most valuable courtiers the Dual Count had?!
"Madness! He asks too much!" cried a courtier whose name history has forgotten.
Giovanna sat in her chair, mouth open and unable to speak, the wideness of her eyes testifying to her shock.
Iacopo ignored the shout and rubbed his chin. The union would no doubt cement greater ties between the di Razzis and the Orsini, but at the cost of his Spymistress, when he had no replacement? There was only one way to resolve the situation.
"What say you, Spymistress? In affairs of the heart such as this, I will not dictate the course. It must be you who chooses." spoke the Count of Two Counties.
The Spymistress bowed her dark head and fell into thought. When she arose again, she answered in a voice so soft, the audience had to strain to hear her.
"I will not accept, Your Lordship. Orvieto is my home and Berardo is too old for me. I shall stay at your side and not leave you for that man."
"You have your answer, messenger."
The envoy nodded and bowed, "So be it." He walked to the door and just as he was about to go, the messenger turned back, eyes on the spurner, "It is a shame, though... Count di Razzi is very much taken with you and fell for you during his time in this court. He loved your conversations the best."
No reply came and so the man left, leaving behind a silent room.
"I burn my books on Aristotle tonight!" Giovanna hissed.
The military genius, found in Iacopo's own backyard