The next few days passed quickly and she spent her day mostly in bed, sleeping. When she woke up at dawn once, and asked in a confused voice where she was, Machiavelli had come to sit beside her and stroked her feverish forehead.

"You're at our home." He had said.

Our home. The words had worked as a sedative, calming her and letting her sleep peacefully. There were dreams and nightmares, but she fortunately did not remember them.

When she did wake up, she found Machiavelli always around her either sitting by her side reading a book, or by the window, looking out with a thoughtful gaze.

Then one night, she woke up shivering, aware that she had just had a terrifying nightmare, but not remembering what it had been about. The candle on the nightstand beside her, had almost burnt out. She looked all around her, didn't see Machiavelli and felt her fear rising.

Climbing out of bed, she balanced herself and then limped towards the door. When she opened it, she heard his voice and another man's downstairs. She dragged herself to the first stair and took a deep breath. Her heart was already beating fast after even such a small movement. She stepped down and heard Machiavelli's voice, strained and angry.

"Are you telling me, your thieves had this letter all along?" he asked.

The other man's voice was hesitant and afraid. "There was…"

"Answer me!"

"Si, Niccolò." The other man said, giving up. She soon recognized it as Antonio's voice. "My thieves chased a Borgia messenger and killed him, like we do with all the others. It never occurred to us to search him."

"And he had the letter from Rodrigo?"

Antonio hesitated again and Claudia carried on with the small ordeal of climbing down the stairs as her leg caused her to wince.

"Si. My men recovered it from his body only recently." Antonio said sheepishly. "We usually don't even search them and toss them over the bridge. But this one…he had a lumpy pocket and then my men searched him and found this letter for Mario."

"When was this messenger killed again?" Machiavelli's voice sounded as if he were trying to suppress a tirade and not fully succeeding.

"Is there any use, going through this again?" Antonio said in a matter of fact kind of way. "What use would it have done to us, anyway?"

"My wife was in the captivity of the Borgia!" Machiavelli almost screamed. Claudia stepped down the last step, but didn't enter the room. "Do you know what they did to her? Do you know how many bruises and cuts there are on her?"

"Niccolò…"

"No, Antonio! You do not! I cannot imagine what they must have done to her for her to be so fearful of even falling asleep." Machiavelli said. "She's been crying in her sleep, so you must excuse me when I do think there was something we could have done."

Claudia peeked in and saw Antonio hold out the letter for Machiavelli to see. "They wanted the Apple." He said. "In exchange for her. In case you haven't noticed, we don't have it."

"No, but Savonarola does." Machiavelli said dryly and pulling out a chair to sit in.

"How did you know that?" Antonio asked, leaning forward and Claudia could see the glint of suspicion in his eyes, the very same one she had often seen in La Volpe's eyes.

"It is common knowledge by now." Machiavelli replied angrily.

"That it is." Antonio folded the letter and put it in his pocket. "Now what?"

"The Borgia will pay." Machiavelli said in a cold voice. "We attack them."

"I meant what do we do about the Apple?"

His back was turned towards her so Claudia couldn't see, but she could see Antonio looking nervous and then walking away in a hurry. She stepped back into the shadows, not wanting to engage in chatter with him. When the front door closed, she went into the room and saw Machiavelli with his shoulders slumped and looking so defeated, she felt her throat clench.

She stood behind him, not knowing what to do or what to say. He must have noticed her presence by now, but said nothing. Eventually, after the silence was almost unbearable to her, he got up from his chair to face her.

"Rodrigo Borgia had you." He said.

Claudia didn't know what to say except she had never feared the older man. Only his son, who looked so much younger than her but so terrifying that the thought of his name sent shivers down her spine. She nodded, still unable to muster up the courage to tell him how badly she had been scared.

"I….we searched everywhere for you…but there was no trace…." Machiavelli seemed to be struggling and she could see the tears in his eyes. He was no doubt blaming himself for what had happened. "They planned it all too well. I searched the whole of Forli for you and when I didn't find you, I thought you had left me and come to Firenze."

His voice was breaking, yet he couldn't seem to stop talking. "Then one of my men overheard a husband scolding his wife for trying to help a battered woman and telling her to not interfere and risk gaining the wrath of the Borgia. I thought maybe….Maybe it could be…I had my doubts but…."

His voice had betrayed him and he looked so despondent that Claudia could feel his pain in her heart.

She put her hand on his cheek and bit her own lip to stop herself from crying. She took his hand then. "Come to bed." She said.

Machiavelli followed her but when they came to the staircase and she limped towards it, he stopped, took her in his arms and carried her upstairs. Claudia wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder, trying hard not to cry at the way he looked so defeated. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault she had been captured, but her voice would betray her and the last thing they needed was for her to break into tears and for him to curse himself for making her cry.

She managed to control her tears when he put her on the bed and then pulled the covers on her. "You should get some sleep too." She said. There were tired lines on his face and his appearance was evidence that he hadn't slept in many days.

Machiavelli paused and then smoothed the bed sheets. "I didn't mean what I said." He said quietly and Claudia was confused by his words.

"What?"

"That day…in Forli." Machiavelli looked away from her, but didn't move from beside her. "Those things I said…I was trying to hurt you….because you had…."

Claudia looked down and played with the hem of the blanket on her. The rich red fabric looked flimsy, but was exceptionally warm and had kept her comfortable for many several nights when she hadn't been in dire pain. She was dumbstruck again. Part of her was relieved that he hadn't meant the things he had said to her when he had implied he had married her because she was foolish and didn't know how to manage her own life. The other part of her was astounded at how vindictive he could be.

Then she told herself that she couldn't let him continue to feel guilty for something that was partly her fault as well. She should have never pushed him away when all he had done was help her. She took his hand in hers and tried to smile.

"I know." She said softly.

"You have no idea how much that has eaten away at me for the past few weeks." He said. "To think that those could be the very last words I had…"

"But they weren't." Claudia said.

Machiavelli started to get up, but she held onto his hand until he looked at her. "You said you wouldn't leave me." She said and then shifted in the bed to make space for him. Machiavelli got in and she took his arm in hers and turned on her side, so that her back was against him and his arm around her.

She could feel his slow breathing and thought, as she drifted to sleep, that this was much more comfortable than the blanket.

There was dampness under her again and the smells were what awoke her. She was in the cell again and this time, the whole room was brightly lit. She covered her eyes at the brilliance when she heard the familiar footsteps coming towards her.

The heavy metal thumping, send chills up her spine and she cowered in the corner, suddenly realizing that she was dressed in a very flimsy gown. The door opened with a loud metallic clang and she gasped as Cesare walked in, dressed for war. His cape was clean and wrinkle free, but so long that she could hear it rustle against the floor.

The sword was shining and it reflected the glares of the candles until she was almost blinded by it. Then it was all gone and she was in darkness. She breathed soundly and relaxed her shoulders, when she felt a cold touch on her leg.

She uttered a cry and then as the candles around her lit one by one, she saw Cesare smirking down at her. His hands moved up her legs and she struggled but saw that she was bound in chains.

"This will all go much easier, if you cooperate." He mocked.

Claudia opened her mouth and then screamed with all her might. The image before her vanished and she found herself in the darkness and unable to stop herself from screaming.

"Claudia!"

She started to shiver uncontrollably and when she felt his warm arms around her, she burst into sobs.

"What happened?" he asked frantically.

"He…he almost had me…." She sniveled.

Machiavelli shifted and then a candle came on and he turned to her and grabbed her arms gently. "Who? Rodrigo? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?"

"No…." she sobbed. "His son, Cesare. He….he was the one."

"Did he…" Machiavelli hesitated, but she could see the question in his eyes.

"He wanted to. I fought back." She said and raised her wrist. "Then he did this." She put her other hand on her shoulder. "And then he used a knife to cut me."

Machiavelli looked so upset that she regretted telling him what Cesare had done to her. "Is that who you've been dreaming about these past few days?"

"I don't remember."

"Did you see him right now?"

Claudia nodded and wiped at her tears, then lay her head on his chest. "I can't stop dreaming about him. I can't stop thinking what he wanted to do with me! I can't breathe!"

Machiavelli pulled her back and then put his hands on her shoulders. "Now listen, Claudia." He said firmly. "I could tell you to not be frightened of the Borgia and that the Assassins and I shall get them and punish them for what they did to you. But I'm not."

Claudia sniffed and felt more tears pricking her eyes.

"You are." He said. "You will get better and regain your strength. And then you'll go to Roma and destroy them. Do you understand me?"

Claudia looked at him and was surprised by how relieved she felt at his words. She nodded and pushed back her tears.

"That is the only way you'll be able to get over your fear." Machiavelli said. "Don't be scared, be angry and hold onto it. There is nothing better than revenge."

He then lay her down and pulled the covers back on her. "Promise me, you'll eat well now and take you rest. Then when you're better, you'll train and become stronger. Promise me, you'll no longer fear them."

"I promise." She said, feeling her fear dispel at an alarming rate. "I promise."