Chapter XXXVIII - A Family Dinner

Cesare felt ethereally confident as he walked over his mother's threshold with his stunning wife on his arm dressed to impress the rest of his family. Charlotte looked like an angel sent by God himself dressed in purple silk and with her long brown tresses strung up into an elegant but not boisterous hairdo. He had opted for a much less extrovert outfit for the evening, following his brother and Machiavelli's advice, he dressed purely in black.

When he gazed at his wife, he thought it a great pity that his heart was lashed firmly to his sister's, for in a different world, a different time perhaps, he might have found himself utterly enthralled and in love with his bride. As he turned the corner into the dining room of , he made sure he cleansed his face of the glow that resided there before Lucrezia saw it, for she read him like the simplest book on the shelf and he knew she was already feeling wary of Charlotte's presence in Rome.

"Mother, good to see you," Cesare greeted Vannozza as he kissed her on the cheek, "the house looks lovely."

His mother smiled up at him, "Thank you, my son. Your wife's presence in Rome suits you. She should be by your side more; it softens you."

All the blushing groom could do was nod awkwardly at his mother before he led his wife to greet the other two members of his family.

"Good that you both are here," His Holiness pronounced gruffly, "now, we can eat."

With that said, the party sat down to eat the sumptuous feast of roast partridge and braised veal, garlic prawns and lobster poached in malmsey wine. The entire table was laden with the most beautiful delicacies that only the Pope and his family could afford in one sitting during the time following one of the largest mercenary campaigns Italy had ever witnessed. Vannozza had wanted no expense spared for the welcoming dinner she laid out for her only daughter-in-law and her pension from the Vatican had felt the hit. She was sure that she could ease some more out of the Vatican through her lover at a later date anyway.

"So, Cesare," Rodrigo began, "what are your plans now that the Bitch of Forli is dead? I mean, you have the whole French army at your beck and call at my gates doing nothing. Are you going to wreak any more havoc on Italian soil or will you despatch them back to France where they belong?"

They were only an hour into the meal when Rodrigo turned the conversation away from family matters to politics and when the event occurred everyone else at the table's hearts and appetites hit the marble floor. Vannozza had wanted a night that was just about her family, not the family that was hell-bent on power, but her simple and uncomplicated family. Lucrezia desired above all an evening away from her brood of children, whom she loved dearly, but who had been stealing her sleep away from her. Charlotte wished to see what the renowned Borgia family, into which she had married, was truly made of and how she would fit into it. Cesare needed to have one night where he pretended to be in a normal, functional family, where husbands loved their wives and brothers doted on their sisters, not the other way around. Rodrigo simply craved the knowledge that his Papal throne was secure from the growing threat and influence of his son and the vast army he could call upon at any second to ravage Italy.

"Rodrigo, enough!" Vannozza yelled, "You are not talking of politics or armies or being Pope or anything! As the mistress of this house and mother of this family, I forbid it. Today is the first time we have been able to dine with Charlotte – it's even the first time we have met her – so you are not spoiling this dinner with awful conversation, Rodrigo. Choose another topic to speak on, my dear, for me."

Her lover nodded sullenly and apologised to the party and continued to chew at his leg of lamb.

It was then that a pageboy ran into the dining room completely unannounced and passed a Papal bull to His Holiness.

"Speaking of new and more pleasant topics," Rodrigo said to his family, taking the already sealed roll of parchment from the page and then brusquely gesturing him away, "I wish to inform you all that before Gioffre's funeral next week, I am going to have him named as Gonfaloniere posthumously. This is the bull that makes it official."

Nobody knew what to say to that, so once it appeared that no one had any objections to voice, Rodrigo signed the paper, Alexander VI and beckoned the pageboy to come and retrieve the document and take it back to the Vatican where Cardinal Sforza was waiting for it.

"If you do not mind, Donna Vannozza," Charlotte asked, breaking the silence, "what was Gioffre like? I never got to meet any of my Cesare's brothers and I am curious to know your other sons better…"

"Of course I don't mind, you are part of this family now, after all. You should know more about the family than you do."

"Indeed," Rodrigo concurred and avidly took up the opportunity to talk, "Gioffre was a delightful boy as he grew up and turned into a brilliant and brave young man who was taken from his family too soon, but what God wills will come to pass. He married young and did his duty by this family by taking Sancia of Naples to wife. That marriage was not a happy one and recently we declared it annulled and he was about to begin again. Then, we found him dead – strangled – in his bed one morning and as of yet, we have not found the culprit, but as our eldest and remaining son has been promising us, we will find he who stole the breath from the body of our dearest son."

It was plain to everybody listening to the Pope's speech that he had just insulted and preferred his deceased son to his living, but the children of Rodrigo Borgia were accustomed to such words and dismissed them without paying them much heed at all, but to the newest member of the family, the negative feelings and enmity that Rodrigo showed towards his son came as a shock.

Seeking to change the subject, Charlotte moved the topic onto the son whom she knew had not been a popular member of the Borgia clan, "What about your other son? Juan?"

Vannozza respected the Charlotte d'Albret for how she managed to get around Rodrigo's words but she was not fast enough to manage to avert him carrying on his tales concerning his dead sons.

"Well, Juan is a different story, one very different to that of his youngest brother."

Cesare interrupted his father, not willing to give him the chance to tell Juan's story, "Actually, Holy Father, the stories do not differ as much as you believe they do. Both of your sons did your bidding to the letter, both married into noble and royal families of Spain and both are now Gonfalonieri of your army, both you preferred to me, both had Sancia of Naples and both were unhappy in the last days of their lives, though only one managed to disgrace the family, the other was the epitome of filial obedience and virtue."

The woman on his left gently rested her hand on his taut thigh under the table so no one else could observe the forbidden gesture of the sister as she comforted and showed her unfailing allegiance to her brother. She did not wish to mediate between the men in her life, as time and time again it had proved a fruitless endeavour and had – more often than not – placed her in the bad books of both.

"Now that has been said, might we not talk of more enjoyable things," Lucrezia suggested with hope in her musical voice, "like the children?"

As if Fate herself had overheard the Duchess of Bisceglie's words and found a way to complicate and put fear back into the hearts and minds of those who had for the past week rested on their laurels, a second servant hurried into the room, his face red and his eyes wide, to interrupt the family occasion.

"My Lord, My Lady," the boy said as he bowed to Cesare and Lucrezia, "you must come with me at once. The Countess is very sick!"

At that news, Cesare and Lucrezia bolted up and ran for the door, not waiting for anyone to join them and the pageboy flew out of the house in their wake.

Charlotte was curious as to the identity of this mysterious Countess, who had not been introduced to her yet or invited to this supper although it seems she merited her husband and his lady sister's flight from the room with no other questions.

"I wonder what can be the matter. She seemed fine when I saw her yesterday," Vannozza commented, attempting to keep the worry absent from her voice, "I believe you saw her today, Rodrigo. Was she well?"

He nodded before sitting down once more and indicating that the two ladies should follow suit and replying, "Yes, she seemed to be in good health and spirits, though I am convinced that she does not like me at all, but then again, the feeling is mutual."

"Rodrigo!"

Charlotte interjected, "Please forgive me, but I have not met this Countess. Where is she from? Who is she?"

Vannozza frowned at her daughter-in-law, "Oh, I thought you met her and the boys this afternoon?"

"Excuse me, no."

Rodrigo looked up in surprise at Charlotte, "Ah, I see! Actually, you did, daughter. The Countess is the Countess of Forli, your adopted daughter, Oriana Sforza."