I am so sorry it's been forever and a half since I've updated. That's what happens when you get an actual job (never grow up! I'm trying very hard not to). And thank you so much for adding me to alerts and fave-ing my story! I'm humbled you like it so much! Here is the next installment. Please enjoy!
To say that Fitz was in a perilous situation would have been quite the understatement. Here she was, in the belly of the metaphorical beast, surrounded by Borgias and theirs. The high walls of the villa rose around her, almost blocking out the moon and the stars. Whole platoons of guards stood every entryway it seemed. How Auditore ever got in was a miracle.
The carriage clattered to the inner sanctum. Borgia excused himself, wobbling out of the cart. He made a grand show of covering his hand with a gilded handkerchief, laying it over his hand so she would not touch his skin. She wished she could roll her eyes and laugh. Biting her tongue, she stepped down.
"Welcome to Roma," Roderigo boomed. "Here, in the heart of the city, you shall be safe and protected from the masses and those who would stop you from your goal. We shall attend your every need."
Oh holy shit. Vatican City!?
"Why are we guarded thus?" Fitz, now Aurelia, gestured to a guard detail passing by. "Are you in danger? Are you under siege?"
"In a way," he mused, snapping his fingers for a servant carrying goblets on a tray. The young man ran carefully to his side and poured. "We hold the law of God in our hands and there are those who would seek to tear it from us." He snapped up a goblet and offered it to her. Fitz hesitated for a second. She didn't want to insult him right off the bat. She stared at him.
"What is it?" she asked, curious.
He rattled off some elaborate vintage, more impressed with his obtaining it. She took the cup from him cautiously. Surely he would not attempt to poison her right off the bat, would he? Aurelia turned her gaze on the servant, who was trying very hard not to be seen. "Come, friend, and drink of your master's wine, and His blood." She held the goblet out to him. "Kneel and accept the Blood of Christ."
"My lady!" Borgia spluttered, turning an infuriating shade of purple, almost matching his robes. "I offered this to you! He is not fit-"
"You hold a high position among men, yes? The Father's chosen vessel to walk the earth, yes? Please, bless this and that I may offer it to the poor and meek." She smiled kindly on the servant, who was now shaking like a leaf. Roderigo managed to swallow whatever it was he wanted to say and made the sign of the cross upon the goblet, glaring at the nameless man, daring him to make a choice.
"Go on, Signore. Drink your fill. Do not offend our lovely guest," he growled. The man was on his knees in a moment, perhaps out of religious devotion, or a sudden swoon watching a girl half his master's size bring him to submit.
Fitz hated doing this, but no doubt Roderigo had his food tasters. She would need hers. Aurelia knelt along with the man, holding the goblet of wine to his lips, reciting the Eucharist. He drank deep of the wine, sending it spilling down his chin, making him cough. She took a corner of her piecemeal covering and dried his face. She could feel the fury of her host radiating behind her.
"Did I do that correctly?" she asked. Growing up in a Bostonian family, she knew it backwards and forwards. "You are the authority in that regard." She gasped and clutched at his hand. "A thousand pardons, my gracious host! Surely you meant to do it yourself! I apologize profusely! How presumptuous of me!"
His fists whitened as the color found itself in his face. "No, no, my lady. You were just-overcome-in the moment. I quite understand. You may not know it, but here, the womanly form is prone to flights of pique, as you yourself have just experienced."
Aurelia let the sting slide, but Fitz would remember it. For just a second, she was sure Roderigo saw her react. "Thank you for your counsel. I shall try to be mindful of this body's...limitations. She had counted about a minute since the page had drunk and he was not yet dead. Time to make the big risk. "I suppose I myself should partake?" Aurelia took the goblet in both hands.
"No, my lady Aurelia," he said taking it from her quickly. "I will procure a fresh glass for you. Having another's lips upon before yours would surely spoil the taste." He once again glared over to the man, who was scrambling to his feet, bowing and scraping as fast as he could away from the scene. "If you will allow me, I will conduct you inside to your chambers, where you may repair from your harrowing journey."
She nodded, unsure if she should take his arm. He did not offer her a choice and set out ahead of her. She followed, taking her time. Aurelia was not bound by his timetable, and Fitz was in full sight seer mode. The high vaulted ceilings of the villa were amazing. Rich reds and burnished golds surrounded her. Dark woods and high backed chairs. She felt as though she stepped into a fairytale. This was not, however, the happily ever after.
Borgia had made his way to a grand staircase, having riding gear and outerwear removed by a small platoon of servants. She waited patiently for him to return his attention to her, but she was in no rush. She observed how wordlessly his servants washed over him, removing what needed to be removed, all the while hardly touching him. Eyes were never met, but there was one with whom he actually spoke. His valet, possibly. She could not hear all the conversation, most likely about her and the evening's events.
While she was poring over a rather large portrait of the Pope, he finally announced her. "And this, Antonio, is Aurelia, a most holy lady. She may not look much, but she is very important, and is to be afforded every hospitality." Aurelia smiled at the valet, presumably named Antonio, who gave her a once over look she did not appreciate.
"Signorina, welcome." He strode over to her, boots clicking across the floor, even through the thick carpet. He wore a doublet of a slightly older time, but adorned with a large gold chain, no doubt signifying him as the major-domo of the estate. His hair was beginning to gray, even though he seemed too young for it. He bowed to her. "I will do all I can to make your stay with us comfortable and like you had never left home."
"Then you had better send for a choir and clouds, Antonio!" Borgia laughed. Antonio laughed as well, but in a way that seemed he only did to humor his master's humor. He turned his head toward Borgia, but never took his eyes from his new charge.
"Then I shall try very hard," he said, only where Aurelia could here. "Allow me to show you to you apartments. My lady must be very tired."
"I believe I am. I have never felt 'tired' before. My eyes are trying to close longer than I think they need be. Is that what tired is?"
"A very close approximation, my lady Aurelia, yes. If you follow me, I will have you settled." Antonio led her and two serving women up to the next level of the inner villa.
Night had fallen sometime ago, but torches every few lengths kept the darkness at bay. The musty smell of the city wafted through on every breeze. The open walkway looked over the dooryard where she entered. The other carriage had just pulled away, leaving Cesare and his sister in the entrance. She was looking up, watching the processional. Her expression was one between sudden guilt and brazen suspicion.
"Where has my host gone?" Aurelia asked her guide.
"My lady Aurelia, he has gone to attend to matters that required his immediate attention. He will visit you tomorrow morning. He does hope you do not feel abandoned by his action and begs your forgiveness." Antonio did not stop walking or look in her direction.
Her quarters were to be in the guest wing, she was told. Many royal and noble guests had stayed here, some quite recently. Antonio made sure she would be the only one in residence on the third floor and the servants would come when they were called. She had counted at least five patrols from the front entrance way to her accommodations, not including the pair stationed a stone's throw from her door.
"Rosaria and Paola will be your attendants while you are here. If you need anything at all, they will fulfill your wishes to the letter. They will prepare you for bed and await your pleasure in the morning. Does my lady require any refreshment before she retires? Something to eat or some wine? Water?"
"Which do you suggest?"
"Personally, I have a cup of wine before bed to aide my sleep, but I'm sure you'll sleep like an angel. Please forgive the expression." He smiled like a young man, but his eyes betrayed his age. Was he playing with her?
"I'm sure I will. Until very recently I was one." She decided Aurelia didn't get it.
"Yes, indeed." He straightened up, bowed and opened the doors to her new attendants. They entered. "Good night, my lady."
"And to you, Antonio."
"Thank you." With that, the door shut behind them. The room was lavish. A large fire place kept the rooms well heated.
"It's too warm!" cried Paola. "If we don't open the window, she'll suffocate from the heat!"
"You worry too much, " said the other Rosaria. She was thinner and shorter than her compatriot, but not quite as pretty. "Signorina Aurelia will be fine. Look at what she's wearing! I'm sure she's freezing!" She gestured to the shawls that were still serving as dress. Aurelia hadn't noticed until now, but the smell was coming from her clothes.
"Would you like help dressing for bed, Signorina Aurelia?" Rosaria offered. She held up a shift that seemed silky to the touch. When in Roma, right?
"Please. I feel like I am about to sleep forever." The girls untied the rough knots that covered her modesty. Paola grabbed a wet rag from the commode and tried to wash the road dust from here gently. It was cold. Aurelia thought she might stay up all night from the shock of it.
"I've not needed sleep before. Is it painful?" Am I laying on the 'not from these parts' routine a bit thick?
"No, Signorina Aurelia. You don't even realize it's happening most of the time. You just-" she mimed closing her eyes, he hands folded under her head, snoring. "Babies can do it and they don't know how, either. They just do."
Aurelia smiled. She had never heard it described so succinctly. "Then I shall do it, too."
After she was cleaned of all the dirt, the girls dressed her in the shift and sat her at the foot of the bed to brush her hair. Even just sitting on the bed, a wave of fatigue washed over her. She knew she looked silly trying to keep her eyes open as her chin kept drifting toward her chest. Once, her head snapped back, straight as she tried to stay awake.
"Signorina Aurelia, let's put you to bed. We can make sure you are radiant before you meet with His Eminence."
Aurelia nodded, grateful that she could finally have some time to herself. The large coverlet was a deep red, with veins of gold running through. It was almost a second mattress, so over stuffed as sheets as she knew them did not exist. It was a little lumpy, stuffed with goose feathers it seemed, but she was overjoyed it was an actual bed instead of an army surplus cot.
"Will there be anything else, Signorina Aurelia?" Paola asked. Rosaria stood behind her eyes turned downward. She was however, making sure everything in the room was perfect.
"Could I ask you to open the window, just a little, please?" Aurelia settled into the bed, arranging the multitude of pillows around her.
Paola smirked a little at her companion and threw the sash open with a bit of a flair. The moonlight spilled in and the sounds of the city could be heard in the distance.
"Thank you that will be all. Bless you both."
The two curtsied and let themselves out of the room. Silence reigned for a good five minutes as Aurelia stared blankly ahead of her. She got up out of the giant bed and went to the window casement. She didn't have a great view of the city, thanks to the giant walls, but she could see the grand plaza, and heard a fountain bubbling nearby. The stars were out. She wasn't sure she had ever seen them so brilliantly. Fitz sighed and smiled.
All her training, every mission, was nothing compared to this. She was rewriting history from the other side. Would the others still remember her? What would be the outcome? How different will the world be when she returned?
Something caught her attention. Something on the wall moved. Someone. Fitz peered harder into the darkness, looking for the next sign of life. She backed away from the window slowly. There was a small desk not far from the window, undoubtedly to use natural light to write by. She grabbed a quill and scrap of paper and scribbled something. Non stasera, per favore. Ho bisogno del mio sonno.
She returned to the window. There was a divide where mortar had given way to erosion, leaving a gap between two stones. She folded the paper so it would be held by the stones, but still be seen.
Fitz returned to her bed and watched the window for what could have been hours. She didn't know. As Rosaria had observed you don't even realize it's happening. Her years of half wakeful sleep had been undone by one feather bed.
Dreamless sleep kept her under until well into the morning. Fitz thought she heard bells ringing, but ignored them. After another set of bells began to ring, she sat bolt upright. She ran to the window, sunlight running down the walls around her. The note was still there. I am an idiot. She grabbed it from between the stones. Fitz walked over to the fireplace, to destroy the evidence. The last thing she needed was a paper trail. She unfolded it so it would burn faster.
But something was different. Under her line, begging for sleep, was someone's return.
Non ci sono angeli qui. Solo coloro che guardano dai luoghi nascosti. Decideremo se il messaggio vale il nostro tempo e il sangue. Dormire bene, angelo decaduto.
Without a word, Fitz stirred up the embers and tossed it into the flames. It's begun.
