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Born to the indomitable Adona Malvici long enough after his older brother Hadrian that he might have been an 'oops' baby, Gio's path was marked at birth right on his body. Being born with a twisted spine in any family is difficult, but in the Malvicis, with their emphasis on strength, he was a liability. He learned to walk late. As he grew taller in his teens, his spine twisted further. The pain was constant. Military service was out of the question, and for a member of the ducal line not to do their customary two years of military service was a source of poisonous gossip. At this point, his mother saw the danger for him: her compassion for her youngest son was starting to be perceived as a weakness, and that made him a target. So she did the only thing she could, the best thing she could, for Gio, and also for herself: she declared publicly that because he could not serve in the military, he was no Malvici, and then she sent him away. Privately, Adona and his siblings cared about Gio just as much as they ever had. He was sent away to finish his schooling in a country estate where he wanted for nothing, far enough out of sight that he remained out of the minds of the schemers who might try to use him. Gio had always had a quick mind and a razor wit, but here, with no distractions, he developed these into an education that was both broad and deep. His mother rarely visited at first, but did so more often after she handed the reins of power over to Hadrian. Hadrian defied convention by turning up from time to time even while he was Duke. Calypso, with few worries about politics, came by often to banter and sometimes ask for advice... until she didn't. Gio understood why Calypso stopped showing up after she was thrust into the position of Duchess, a place where he knew very well she would struggle, but he worried about her, especially after her letters stopped coming. Then, one day, the Duchess herself turned up unannounced with a swarm of servants who went about packing Gio's things. When he asked what she was doing, she told him she was done trying to live up to the way their mother wanted the head of Malvici to rule. She was going to do this her way. And she needed him in Arx. Now. So get moving. In that moment, he was more proud of his older sister than he'd ever been, but he was also a little bit worried about her recklessness... worried for her, and worried for himself.

Tall and slender, with elongated, graceful limbs, soft hands, and long articulate fingers, not even the crooked set of this man's shoulders is enough to diminish his elegant appearance. Every wry quirk of his thin lips, every last languid gesture or toss of his head that sends the light playing over his wavy, glossy black hair has a sense of purpose and intent. The result is a mix of control and carelessness that's not fully one or the other. His eyes are the green-gray of the sea after a churning storm, framed with lashes many women would kill for, and hold wisdom, but also a sense of detached judgement that makes such wisdom dangerous.

Gio diMalvici has the refinement of an intelligent, educated man, but he also has an ascerbic, devil-may-care charm that keeps him from looking entirely aristocratic. A honed political sense lets him move with ease through many walks of life, from the Lowers where he buys the haze that he uses to control the pain in his back (and also uses because haze is fun) all the way to the most rarified halls of power. In all places, his manner is generally laconic, his banter is quick, and his sense of humor is always, always dry. But Gio's cutting wit sometimes cuts too deep, especially when it's directed at someone he genuinely doesn't like. Words can be weapons, and looks can be poison, and Gio diMalvici is an expert wielder of both.