Chapter Twenty-Four

Juan watched as his son – his legitimate son – dodged a sword thrust and delivered one of his own, taking his instructor by surprise. A few seconds later, Antonio managed to gain the upper hand and pin a man thirty years older than him against the wall.

"Well done!" Juan cried, raising his wine goblet at his son, who beamed at the praise. "You will make a fine Gonfaloniere someday."

"Would I? But I thought George would-"

Juan waved his hand impatiently, cutting his son off. "I decide who my successor shall be. And your brother does not have the appetite for warfare. I suspect he will become an artisan or a cardinal, like your uncle."

Antonio said nothing, but Juan could see that his son was thinking. With a knowing smile, Juan drained the wine from his goblet and stood. "Now, let's see how you fare against a true soldier."

Juan drew his sword, which he always kept sheathed to his side, and raised it. Antonio grinned and raised his own; the instructor stepped aside quietly. Father and son soon clashed swords; the metallic clang of their weapons drew several guards and Anne to the scene.

"Antonio!" Anna had joined her mother and cheered her older brother on. Antonio gripped the handle tightly and remembered the lessons his father and his instructor had taught him. Snapping his left hand to his back, he blocked his father's attacks.

Juan grinned as he saw his son remember his lessons: he had his arms close to his sides and was not letting anything, including his mother and sister, distract him. Finally he loosened for a second, allowing Antonio to defeat him.

Anna giggled with delight, while Anne smiled, the familiar smirk forming on her cherubic face.

"Well done, my love," Anne called, and Antonio turned at the sound of his mother's voice. "Both of you."

Juan tried not to look smug, but his feeling of euphoria vanished as he saw Cesare appear behind Anne. Their affair was becoming evident, and even the Pope was noticing. The rest of the Borgias, save for Lucrezia and Juan, were aware that Cesare and Anne met illicitly.

At first Juan had reacted violently, causing Anne to turn cold towards him. Even as he brought countless whores to their chamber, Anne had merely turned to Cesare for comfort.

For once in his life, Juan didn't know what to do. He loved Anne just as much as he hated her, but he hated his brother even more.

This hatred had been extended towards George, who was becoming a spitting image of Cesare. However, the boy never acknowledged that small detail; he fully believed himself to be Juan's son.

Whatever makes the little bastard happy, Juan thought darkly, turning to Antonio. His son was talking to Anna that he failed to notice his mother openly flirting with his uncle.

"What brings you here, brother?" Juan asked loudly, causing Antonio and Anna to stop their conversation and look towards the two adults. With a glance, Juan dismissed the rest of the guards so that the Borgias were alone.

"I came to tell you and Anne that the Holy Father wishes to celebrate," Cesare replied without batting an eye. "And that he wants to see us later tonight."

"I see." Juan turned to his wife, who met his gaze steadily. "I fear you might sleep alone, dearest."

"Mother will sleep with me!" Anna declared, running towards Anne. "Can she, Father?"

Juan softened slightly when his daughter fastened her eyes (which were so much like his) on him. "But of course."

Anna beamed and Antonio sheathed his sword. His attention was now distracted with the arrival of Giovanni, his older cousin, and George. The two boys were discussing something – literature, no doubt – but stopped when they saw Juan, Anne, and Cesare.

"George, Giovanni," Anne called, walking over to them. "Where have you been?"

"In the art gallery, Mother," George answered. "There is this young art apprentice who seems talented."

Anne placed a hand over her son's shoulder. "Try not to spend too much time there. You have other duties, don't you remember?"

George nodded. "I remember."

Anne kissed the top of George's head and smiled at Giovanni. The boys made their escape, followed by Anna and Antonio. Once the children were gone, Juan turned his eyes towards Cesare.

"Even now," Juan said, his gaze deadly.

"Does it surprise you?" Cesare smirked. "You know I love her."

"So do I. And I will never give her up."

"I don't think that is for you to decide."

"I am her husband!"

"And I am the man she loves."

"Enough." Anne stepped between the two men, who had been advancing towards each other with every sentence that they uttered. "Not here."

"Would you like to take this discussion to a more private setting?" Juan suggested bitingly.

Anne tilted her head. "Perhaps. I'm surprised you decided to address this little issue now, husband."

Juan opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it. Whatever Anne and Cesare did, Anne was his, damn it. His, body and soul.

Now if he could only have her heart…