The Confession of Lucrezia Borgia
Ascanio Sforza hated hearing confessions. His head throbbed with the headache that brewed behind his eyes and he closed them in weariness. No more wine tonight, he promised himself. It had been a hellishly long week and as Vice Chancellor the majority of the day to day duties of managing the church fell to him. The concerns and minor transgressions of the general rabble were of no importance to him. As a prince of the church his occasional donning of the purple stole was a chore that he seldom subjected himself to. There were so many more pressing affairs. France, Naples, and his cousin all weighed on his thoughts and the whole damned situation spread out in his mind like the spiders web that the Holy Father had compared it to.
A woman slid into the confessional and through the lattice he could smell her perfume. Ascanio's sensitive nose detected the faint aromas of clove and oranges and musky rose. And even more faintly the odor of a man's emissions. This noble woman had plainly just left the bed of a man and had not even bothered to wash the scent off her thighs. Well, he thought, at least this confessions should be more interesting than most.
"Salve filia mea"
"Father." The woman's voice was husky and low. Either she was trying to conceal her identity or she was subject to some strong emotion that left her on the verge of tears. But still, the timber of that voice was somewhat familiar. He peeked through the screen, trying to ascertain the woman's identity but she was still hooded.
"In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." The woman's right hand, still clutching a jeweled rosary, made the sign of the cross.
"It has been three months since my last confession Father." The woman said nothing else for several seconds. Her hands nervously fingered the beads.
"What are the sins that you would like to confess my lady?"
"I scarce know where to begin Father." At the way she said "Father" he guessed her identity. Ascanio was now almost certain that the woman sitting opposite of him was the Pope's own daughter Lucrezia. One of her blonde curls was peeking out from under the hood and he could see the gray blue eyes staring at him. "Or should I say Cardinal Sforza? Dare I confess to you, whose family has done mine so much harm?"
"My lady, although I have not been true to all of my vows I would never consider breaking the holy seal that has been placed upon confession. You may speak in the knowledge that I would never repeat what I have heard and risk my own immortal soul." The Cardinals voice was soft as befitted the confessional but it was very sincere.
"Very well, Cardinal Sforza. I was joined in marriage yesterday to a Prince but I spent the night in the arms of another." Lucrezia's voice had taken on a harder edge, as though she was daring him to condemn her for her actions.
"Indeed." Well that would certainly explain the stray pair of gold slippers he had tripped over on his way back to his own palace after leaving the bed of one of the noblewomen of Naples. Francesca has been very enthusiastic in her desire to experience all the delights of Rome. "Why were you not with your husband? Is he not to your liking?" Ascanio was genuinely confused. The young prince had seemed devoted to his new bride and Lucrezia was quite beautiful. He had himself toyed with the idea of trying to bed her after she had returned to Rome but it did not seem worth risking the ire of her Father and brother. And her lovers had the nasty habit of turning up dead.
"He was to my liking but he became angry at me and refused to consummate the marriage. So I went to…someone…who I have come to realize I love above all else in my life." She was crying now, and her misery was so genuine that the Cardinal wished he could wrap his arms around her in comfort. Lucrezia Borgia had always been an aberration in her family. When her father had first become Pope she seemed as innocent and beautiful as a spring morning. Even now, with a scandalous reputation to rival that of any in her family , she quietly worked to better the plight of the poor of Rome and he had never seen he turn away from a person in need.
"Could you not go to your father and ask that the marriage be put aside in favor of another alliance?"
"No." Her sobs were racking her slender body now. "The man I went to is the one person I can never be with. And I found such joy and.. bliss last night. How can I ever be content with another?"
"Who my Lady? Confess it and be absolved of your sins." Although Ascanio did want to give her absolution for her sins he could not deny that the curiosity that almost too much to bear.
"Cesare."
"Well. That is certainly a problem." The Cardinal was not unduly surprised to hear that the Holy Father's children were engaged in an unholy alliance. You had only to see them together to realize that they were more to each other than was proper. Even when he wore the red Cesare Borgia's eyes burned when they followed his sister and he never seemed to look at anyone else when she was in the room. "Was this the only time you .." his voice trailed off delicately.
"Yes. But I confess I have thought of him with more love than a sister should bear her brother for as long as I could understand the difference."
"Tell me how this came about."
"When we were younger, before I was married the first time, I thought that there was nothing wrong with the way he made me feel. Like I was his goddess. Every time he would kiss me or hold me I wanted more but I thought that was my sin alone. And then, my God, he truly kissed me and I had never felt such pleasure in my entire life and I understood the truth of our relationship. He is the other part of me. I could never find happiness in the arms of another because my heart has never been mine to give away. It was always his."
Ascanio looked at his lap and grimaced at the erection that tented the front of his robes. The image of the two of them together with Lucrezia's blonde hair wrapping them in a golden cloud was incredibly arousing. There was a prostitute in the brothel near the Vatican that had become famous for her blond hair and the resemblance it gave her to the Pope's notorious daughter. He intended to visit her forthwith. "Did you seek him out last night or did he initiate this?
"I did." Lucrezia's voice took on a dreamy quality as she told the story. "After Alphonso left me I found myself walking through the hall to his room. It seemed inevitable that I should be with him on my wedding night. I took off my dress and joined him in bed. He did not take much convincing. And then, after being with him, how can I ever be with someone else? I have never felt a fraction of what it was like with him. "
"You found.. satisfaction in his arms?" His voice was trembling. Soon, he told himself. How much more can she confess? And how in the name of the Blessed Virgin was he supposed to exit the confessional like this?
"So many times. He took me over and over again, as I took him. I have not slept and my mind will not leave him. When I close my eyes I can feel him inside of me. Do I look different Cardinal? I think I must after last night. " Though the barrier between them he could see that her eyes had taken on a fevered light and her breath came quick and shallow.
"Do you regret your sin?"
"I regret that the only person in whose arms I can find happiness is my brother, yes."
"Will you continue in this sin?"
"I want nothing more than to return to his bed at this moment and wake him with my mouth on his body." The cardinal groaned so loudly that Lucrezia was surprised into a giggle.
"My God, Lady Lucrezia, have mercy on me." The cardinal joined her in a rueful chuckle. "May I speak plainly?" Lucrezia met his eyes and nodded. "What you are doing is a sin, as you well know. But I think that through good works and piety you can more than make up for the failings of the flesh. Try to be a good wife to your husband if it is God's wills that your marriage continue. But have faith in the mercy of our Savior and pray to the Virgin daily for your penance. Ego te absolvo…"
"Cardinal Sforza" Lucrezia said to him after he helped her from the confessional and bowed deeply over her hand. "I would hate to have to tell my brother should any of this become public." Her eyes were beautiful and smiling but he knew that she would order his death without a moment's hesitation.
"Then it would be wise to be silent, Lady." Ascanio watched her as she walked from the church. Her skirts swayed gently from side to side with hypnotic grace. He removed his purple stole and left the church, mentally calculating how long it would take him to reach the brothel with the blonde prostitute. Perhaps, he thought, I should hear more confessions. This afternoon had proved very interesting.