Chapter Two:
Half a month passed before news reached Lady Sforza in her crumbling villa. It came from the mouths of the men and women in the township, from the servants and neighboring estates. The gossip spread like disease through the walls of every structure in the countryside: the French royal family has spiraled into turmoil.
Maria was in her library as usual, sitting on the balcony with a cup of wine in one hand, staring absently at the hills and stones that made up her estate. The woman was calmer and easier to manage as of late, or so the staff believed. Her demands were fewer and the woman had become more civil compared the wild creature she was before. When the news passed from a soldier to the cook, Gilia was the one chosen to inform her ladyship. She was often the messenger, seeing as most of the staff wanted nothing to do with the notorious Sforza impatience.
It was late afternoon by time the handmaid made her way up to the library, peering into the seemingly empty room hesitantly. She wandered through the tall bookshelves to where the noblewoman sat in the sun, her glass swaying to a gentle rhythm.
"My lady?" said the young girl. Despite her soft voice, Maria lurched forward as though she had yelled.
"What is it?" The woman demanded, placing a hand over her pounding chest to keep her heart where it belonged. She placed the glass on the balcony railing, looking to the handmaid. Bowing her head, Gilia apologized in a whir of mumbles. She dared a glance once she quieted herself, peering up at her ladyship, who simply waited for the girl to speak. During the time of Gilia's employment, Maria realized that it was much easier to let the girl ramble on than to silence her; she would only apologize more, and a conversation would be impossible.
In a mumbling voice, Gilia said, "There is news, my lady. From France."
Maria straightened in her chair, placing her hands in lap, her curiosity hooked. "A letter?"
"No, my lady." The girl said, inching closer to the noblewoman. "Whisperings from the kitchen staff. They told me to tell you."
"Tell me what, Gilia?" Maria asked sternly.
The girl sucked in a deep breath and quickly replied, "Several members of the French royal family have taken ill, or so they say. And half the court are fighting amongst themselves. It won't last long. The French king is getting involved and will soon settle things."
With a furrowed brow, Maria asked, "And the kitchen staff told you this?"
"Yes." Gilia replied and hurriedly added, "But it's true! I heard it from the horseman and the messenger in the village, and Lady Gritti's maid at Church on Sunday. I thought with all your relatives being in France, you should know."
Maria agreed, looking back to her lands, feeling a sick sense of giddiness. Though Maria's sense of humour was dry and bleak the best of times, she would have never thought herself to enjoy other people's misery and pain. Yet here she was, the corners of her mouth tugged up into a tight, wry smile.
"Thank you, Gilia." She dismissed the girl. Shortly after, she began to laugh.
Another fortnight and a half passed before Maria felt such pleasure again. A clanging early one morning woke her, heard from the ajar window. There was shouting and yelling, along with the sound of metal clashing. The noblewoman sat up straight in her bed, staring at the wall as she listened as carefully as she could to distinguish the sounds. Shaking off her idleness, Maria wrestled with the covers and threw them aside, nearly leaping out of bed to the window. She knocked shutters aside, leaning as far out the window as she could to steal a look at the front gates. She wavered uneasily on the windowsill, narrowing her eyes against the sudden brightness of the summer sun. She could see her guards, or rather, what remained of them, piled up against the villa's gates, pounding on it savagely with their swords and fists. Scowling rather than squinting, Maria padded barefoot across her bedroom to the door. Ripping it open, she shouted for her handmaid in the empty halls and slammed it shut. Moments later the young girl burst into the room, looking about wildly, her blonde hair ruffled from sleep and her eyes wide from shock.
"Get me dressed!" Maria ordered, tearing her nightclothes from her body. "Not that one!" She snapped when the girl went for a heavily laced dress, weighed down with several layers. "The linen, the linen! I don't have all day!"
Gilia quickly fetched the dress of her lady's demands and helped her into it, pulling the brown dress over her head. Maria shoved her arms through the sleeves then tied her hair the best she could. She was almost out the door before she realized she could feel the coolness of the stone beneath her feet. "Shoes? Shoes!"
Quick on her feet, Gilia fetched those too, placing them at Maria's, who quickly stepped into them.
"Come with me!" Maria called to Gilia, who lingered uneasily in the bedroom doorframe as her mistress shot down the hall.
"I'm not dressed!" The girl called back, snaking her arms around her tiny waist. She was barefooted and lightly covered in a cotton dress, creased and wrinkled.
Maria, stopping only for a second, and said, "I don't care!"
She was off down the hall before Gilia could object. The girl reluctantly followed her, padding lightly down the hall. Maria flew down the stairs of the villa to the front entrance, yanking open the doors with a deep grunt. Her sights wandered only for a moment before she locked her gaze on the gates, running across the weedy stone pathway with her handmaid following suit.
"What is happening?" Maria shouted to the captain who stood several feet away from the clanging and bashing. Before the man could answer, the woman was elbowing her way through the armored guards to the gate.
Between the bars stood Lucca and Carlo, standing there with unimpressed expressions and a horse drawn cart behind them. At first she was lost for words, stammering on her racing thoughts. The Sforza woman quickly regained herself however, when she started yelling at the armored men.
"Get away, get away! Don't you have something better to do than to jeer at these men?"
Her voice was heard and the men quickly dispersed, returning back to the barracks and their stations. Only the captain and Gilia remained.
"Open the damn gate." Maria snarled at the captain, stomping back to Gilia who was too bewildered to feel any fear.
The captain did as he was asked, and soon the two Assassins were granted access to the villa's grounds. Carlo led the horse and cart while Lucca greeted Maria, taking her hand and bowing before it. Shaking her head, she took back her hand and looked anxiously towards the horse and cart. The wagon's contents were covered in canvas and tied down, leaving Maria with only excited guesses as to what it could be. She regained her composure when Carlo joined his brother, extending his greetings with a simple nod.
"Shall we talk?" Lucca asked, glancing about the yard of the villa.
"Later." Maria forced herself to say. "First, we shall eat."
Neither of the two men objected. Maria looked to the captain, "Take the horse to the stables, but leave the contents of the cart alone."
Clearly displeased, the captain took the horse and pulled it along to the stables. Maria ignored his sour expressions however. "And Gilia, tell the kitchen staff to prepare a platter of cheeses. I'm sure they will be awake by now."
The girl was more than happy to fulfill the request, and ran back towards the villa. Maria herself started leading the two men to the gardens. She toyed with the idea of small conversation, but quickly decided against it. She did not think herself or the brothers to be the type for that. Instead, she brought them to the small sitting space in the middle of the greenery. Surrounded by wilting flowers and weeds, Maria offered the visitors a choice of a cracked stone bench or a wooden chair abandoned in the gardens. The brothers took to the bench, while Maria sat by herself in the old armchair.
"You both seem weary." She said, looking the brothers over. Their short hair was as ratted as hers, their skin touched by sun and muck.
"Part of the job." Carlo replied, flashing her a wide smirk.
Sitting straighter in her chair, Maria pushed forward. "I take it you were successful attaining my money?"
"Our money." Carlo corrected, only to receive a warning glance from his brother.
"We were, My Lady."
"I heard rumors of trouble in the French court. Forgive my bluntness-"
"Illness? Scuffles over dinner?" Lucca said. His brother continued, "Or did you hear about the Child Lord brat thrown into the moat?"
Maria looked to them both, her mouth agape. Had she known this is what the Assassins had done, she would have asked to come along.
"If you're worried about the boy, My Lady," Lucca interrupted, "That was not our doing. We had several friends helping us, one of which has a terrible sense of humor."
"I'm not complaining," she replied, "though I am curious on how you did it. There were eight heirs and heiresses ahead of me."
"Some were tougher than others. Some had nothing at all." Carlo said. "But never mind the boring details. Breakfast is here."
Looking over her shoulder, Gilia, now roughly dressed, carried cheeses on a silver platter to her ladyship and her strange guests. She lingered hesitantly around her mistress, seeing no proper place to put the platter. Lucca cleared his throat and waved the girl over, plucking the tray from her hands.
"Thank you, Gilia." Maria said, flashing a kind smile towards her. Unsure of what to make of the gesture, the girl curtsied stiffly and dashed off towards the villa.
"Allow me to get dressed," Maria told the two men, "and then we will discuss our deal further."
Lucca and Carlo hardly batted an eye as she left, entranced by the silver platter.
Feeling much more put together with her hair brushed and a nicer, olive green dress over her back, Maria hunted through the villa for the two Assassins. They had disappeared from the gardens, leaving the empty silver tray behind. She didn't search for too long. Maria found them just outside of the stables, with two chests. Her heart fluttered as she thought about what was inside.
"This," Lucca rested his foot on one of the elaborate chests. "is ours."
Carlo unlocked the second chest which was identical to the second. "This is yours."
Maria watched with a fluttering stomach as the Assassin slowly opened it, revealing something the woman never thought she would see. The trunk was filled to the brim with gold coins, glittering in the morning sun. Maria walked forward, mesmerized at the sight of gold. She knelt before the chest, rifling her hands through the sea of riches. The woman felt joy well up inside her as her bitter thoughts and worrisome concerns left her one by one.
"There are several more filled with gold and silver, and jewels, dresses. Some with expensive fabrics and trade items. We merely brought a portion. Men are coming with the rest."
Maria lifted a handful of coins to her face, watching as they slowly slid out of her hand. She had never seen so much money, so much wealth, in her life.
"We took most the gold and silver." Carlo said. "As was our agreement. A split down the middle of the inheritance."
The noblewoman hardly cared what they took, whether it be gold crosses or silver necklaces. She was rich.
Standing from the chest, Maria looked to the two Assassins, smiling. "Thank you."
Lucca took their chest and dragged it back to the wagon, most of which hadn't been unloaded. Maria followed after him.
"When are we leaving?"
The Assassin heaved the awkward chest onto the cart, securing it again. "We?"
"Our deal." Maria pushed. "I was to go with you to watch how you're spending my money."
Lucca released an audible sigh, turning around slowly to face the woman. "You're not going."
At first Maria said nothing, did nothing, until a great wave of fiery frustration overcame her.
"What do you mean I'm not going?" She demanded, standing tall with her hands curled into fists. "We had a deal!"
"Had, being the correct term, my lady."
Maria released a snarl, folding her arms tightly over her chest. "You have broken our deal, therefore," she started for the wagon, hiking up her skirts and climbing on top of it. "you cannot have any of my money."
Lucca simple stared up at her, a brow slightly raised as though he was trying to conceal his amusement. "My lady-"
Maria took a seat on a crate, turning up her nose.
Lucca's manners began to fade. "Look, you can keep your half of the inheritance but you are not coming to Vienna. It is not your place and what we do is none of your business. We did have a deal, you are right. I am simply taking out a piece of it."
Clenching her jaw, the woman inhaled a sharp breath. "You will not have a silver bar, nor any gold coins. The dresses are mine, the jewels are mine, every necklace and bracelet is mine-"
Losing his patience, the Assassin reached for the woman, taking her by the waist. He dragged her down from the cart, placing her lightly on her feet. She stared at him, every muscle in her body clenched.
"How dare you!"
Lucca ignored her and continued to tie the chest to the wagon, pulling the canvas tight.
"Is it your employer?" Maria asked, sucking in a deep breath to calm her temper. "Are they the problem?"
"No, and I don't recommend taking your quarrel up with them." Lucca replied with a snort.
Carlo wandered into the stables then, "What's the problem?"
"I broke the news that Lady Sforza cannot come with us." Lucca relayed to his brother, climbing into the wagon, taking up the reins.
"Why is that?" The twin asked, placing a hand on the horse's shoulder. "It was in the deal after all."
It was Lucca's turn to clench his jaw. Through clamped teeth he spat, "We talked about this."
Carlo simply shrugged in return, a sly smirk coming across his mouth. "Indeed, about a month ago if I recall. She was to come with us."
Maria fought the smile that crossed her features, looking to Carlo with a new sense of fondness.
Leaning forward, Lucca whispered lowly to his brother.
"Do you know how angry Fey will be with us? How much grievance you will put them through?"
"It's her money."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lucca released a sigh. Maria waited attentively to hear what the man had to say.
"A quick visit is all I will grant you." He said quietly. Maria almost smiled, until he interrupted her. "A week in Vienna, and nothing more."
"It takes nearly twice that to reach the damn city!" She argued, crossing her arms.
Lucca retorted, "Would you rather stay here and read letters?"
Realizing this was the best deal she was going to get, she reluctantly agreed. "Fine. But if I find I am being lied to, I will not be pleased."
"Heaven forbid." He muttered under his breath.
Carlo clapped his hands together, looking pleased with himself. "Right. We will leave tomorrow morning, if you will have us, Lady Maria."
"Of course." She said. "You will have the guest rooms."
"And dinner?"
"You can have the entirety of the kitchen, if you so desire." Maria waltzed out of the stables, grinning. She didn't care if the Assassin ate through her kitchen, or Lady Gritti's or any Lord's or Lady's. She could afford it now, thanks to the unlikely pair.
Maria recounted the goings on in the stables to Gilia as they packed her bags, repeating herself several times. She could hardly contain her giddiness, something the handmaid had never seen before.
"What do I pay you?" Maria asked suddenly, breaking off half way through her fourth time recalling Lucca's poor treatment of her earlier that day. She plucked at the seams of a dress she held in her hands, waiting for Gilia to take it, fold it, and place it in her trunk like she had done several times.
"Very well, my lady." The girl mumbled, looking intently at her hands.
"I asked how much not how well." Maria rolled her eyes. "I'll double the amount. You have been very faithful to me."
The blonde looked up at her mistress before her eyes shot down back to her work. "You don't have to, my lady."
"Of course I don't have to." Maria chuckled. "But I believe I will. After all, I can afford it now."
Gilia said nothing about her raise, so the noblewoman continued. "I may have my portrait painted. Or should I buy new books for that poor excuse of a library? Gilia, what do you think?"
The girl nearly said something before snapping her mouth closed, thinking it was better to keep her opinions to herself.
"What is it?" Maria asked curiously. "Don't be shy."
Gilia took a breath. "The kitchen maids were complaining the other day about the stove they have. There's some fault with it and several other things downstairs."
Maria nodded, taking the girl's words into account. "Yes, there are several repairs that need doing."
The handmaid distracted her mistress from her musings when she presented the neatly packed bag, filled with dresses, jewels, shoes, veils. Half her wardrobe had been arranged to be taken to Austria. Maria took out several articles, wanting to pack light. She would be coming home with several Austrian fashions to showcase, she was sure. Pleased, Maria gestured for her trunk to be closed. Gilia did so and then started for the door seeing as she was no longer needed. She stopped however, turning back to Maria.
"Will I be coming with you, my lady?"
Maria sighed. "No, sadly you will not."
She had thought it better to leave the girl at home. The poor soul was intimidated by the boisterous kitchen maid, heaven knows how she would react to foreigners. Besides, Maria planned to be spending a lot of time investigating the spending of her money and didn't trust the girl to wander about the city by herself, and certainly didn't want her penned up inside a drafty boarding room. Maria liked the girl too much for that.
Gilia had a hurt look about her with sagged shoulders and a pouting expression. "How will you manage?"
"Fine," Maria told her. "I didn't bring anything I would need help getting into. Simplicity is the key."
When the girl began to frown, she suggested, "Spend some time with your family. Anyone lasting this long with me deserves a reward."
The corners of the girl's mouth rose into a brief smile before she nodded, escaping into the hallway. With that, Maria was left alone in her room.
She wandered to the vanity nestled in the corner where her new jewels rested on velvet pillows. They glittered against the light of the room. The deep red of the ruby was her favourite, though she did not complain about the diamonds, emeralds or pearls. This new idea of wealth played with her emotions, Maria found. Her normally foul temper had softened, soothed by the fact she would never have to bark at the bank again. She was wealthy at long last, and nothing pleased her more.