Prologue: IN ANOTHER WORLD

In life, you were powerful and commanded respect. In death, only memories of the past remain. You are but a shadow of the things that once were. But who were you? What did people call you?

„They called me a harlot because I loved a married man. They called me a witch for ensnaring his heart. They called me Queen but never meant it. They called me a heretic for trying to free them from superstition. They called me a traitor because my name was slandered. They called for my death, but in my final moments, they went silent. Some call me a martyr now. Some. But to most, I will forever be known as Anne Boleyn, the great whore."

"They called me a poisoner because I knew the way of courtly schemes. They called me a harlot for living the way my heart commanded me to. They accused me of incest because, unlike so many, I truly cared for my family. They called me a murderess when they should have called me a politician. They called me infamous, but who was I truly? I was a daughter, a sister, a lover, and a mother. I was and will forever be only this to them: Lucrezia Borgia, the great whore."

"Women ahead of our time; that is what we were. We had a mind of our own and could not resist using it. We had ideas and dreams. Our opinions influenced the outcome of wars and changed religious beliefs. We could have ruled in our own right, but we were women, dismissed for being weak and feeble. We were pawns in the games of power. We were marionettes of others and when we tried to cut our strings, we threatened the very basis of social order."

"We were also lovers. We may not have been lucky in our choice of men, but that is not to say that we never loved. Oh, how fiercely and passionately we loved at times! Many great men of our time – poets, cardinals, kings – succumbed to our charms. We were master seductresses, skilled in capturing a man's body and soul. We were no common harlots as some may say – we were passionate. We loved as men love: in a very demanding way. It was unheard of and caused people to demonise us."

"We were mothers. True, we are mostly not remembered by it since the picture of beautiful seductress seems incompatible with that of a tender loving mother. Nevertheless, that is what we were. We would have given everything for the well-being of our children and in fact, we did. Both of us died for them. We fought like she-bears for our offspring and succeeded. Our seed would grow and rule. We were mothers to the future."

"We were truly misunderstood. It hurts to know that people feared us, that they murmured behind our backs. We weren't ignorant of their suspicions, but we were also too proud to answer them. Time would give us justice, we believed. We were wrong. Even centuries after our deaths, our infamous reputation still lingers on and splits mankind into supporters and haters. We were controversial."

You speak words of truth. No matter what people may think of you – harlot or saint – your lives have inspired centuries of rumours, literature, and fascination. You were by far two of the most interesting women in European history. Have you ever wondered what it would have been like if you had met in life?

"It would have been a sight to behold. But you were in Italy and I was in England. I was much younger than you. When you died in childbed, I was a girl of twelve. I would have hardly been a match for you."

"But maybe if we had had a chance to meet as equals, as contemporaries, things would have been different. Would we have been enemies? Would we have been friends? I cannot decide which of the two seems more likely."

Your meeting would have changed the outcome of history. Either as foes or as allies, the tension between you would have been strong enough to rip countries apart. It would have sown a new web of history; a web that may not be the truth, but exists as a fantasy nonetheless. Another world, another time, another life; in which the fates of Anne Boleyn and Lucrezia Borgia are intertwined.

What would this world be like?