Oh my god, I cannot believe it?! So soon? Yes, I know, but I have been trying to be more consistent with updating, but school has been on my ass lately. But any who, let's get this shit started! As always, I own nothing but Contessina.
The Vatican
Contessina wandered the halls of the Holy church, done with the papal account for the day. As she headed toward the courtyard, she saw Cesare and Lucrezia strolling in the same direction. It has been some days since Joffre's wedding and the distance between Contessina and Cesare seems to grow ever larger. She longs for his company, more than she thought she would. She wants to…she wants. She wants him. But the law of God and the laws of her moral heart have drawn the line. As she slips into place beside Lucrezia, her hand in the crook of her arm, Lucrezia speaks to both Cesare of Contessina.
"I must return to my husband in the morning."
"Why?" Contessina could tell that Cesare did not wish to be parted from his sister, and certainly did not wish to return her to Pesaro.
"Because he is my husband. Because our father needs his allegiance." Contessina can clearly hear the resignation in her friend's voice. But Cesare's anger at being parted from his is heard in his words.
"I should keep you here in chains. I suspect you would be happier."
Why do you question my happiness?"
"Because something happened, I know it." Contessina can see his jaw clench. Lucrezia looks at him with apprehension.
"What do you know?"
"Your eyes. You no longer walk on air." At this, Lucrezia and Contessina walk to observe a fountain. Cesare speaks desperately to his sister, "Where is my young sister hiding?" Lucrezia, she has grown so much. But Contessina can hear the resolve in her voice.
"I am the Lord Sforza's wife, brother". He is not satisfied by this answer.
"If he does ill by you I shall do ill by him. And what of you, Lady Medici? You also promised comfort and protection." At this callous remark, her anger ignites. She turns to him, fury blazing in her eyes.
"I will not have my promises questioned Cardinal! I swore to stand by her side, and I plan to. One would think a man of God would recognize an oath and the value it means." Yes, this is a little petty, but if he is being so petulant, then she can throw it right in his face as well. Lucrezia interrupts them before the argument gets to heated.
"Please, you two, enough. And he would be wise to be kind, then brother." They both bite back their tongues, their fury assuaged for now. Cesare speaks, with a certain reluctance in his voice.
"What are his pleasures?" Lucrezia stares ahead, detached, and apathetic.
"Hunting. The marital bed." Cesare gives a laugh, filled with derision, and turns his back.
"I dislike him already."
"I already disliked him before he married you, my dear." Contessina feels for her dear friend, and perhaps she wants to one up Cesare. Lucrezia smiles at her, speaking calmly.
"But he had an accident, my friend. And now he can indulge in neither."
"A happy accident?" Cesare asked, still turned away.
"Yes. God is good."
"But he will recover?"
"Unfortunately, yes." She says so quietly. Contessina takes her hand in comfort, rubbing her thumb gently against her skin. Cesare sits beside his sister, speaking as if he finally realizing who now is before him.
"You are no longer a child, Sis. I won't forgive him for that."
"Marriage and, or time makes women of us all. But what kind of woman you will be, my dear Lucrezia, is entirely up to you. No one else." Contessina tells her friend, knowing that her friend already has the courage to become the woman she was born to be. Lucrezia smiles at her friend, happy to have a friend such as her by her side. Lucrezia looks back ahead before speaking again,
"There was a reason for my marriage, Brother. Remind me of it." Cesare sighs harshly, and then stomps away. As he leaves their earshot, Contessina laughs a little.
"He is quite dramatic, isn't he?" The women look at each other, before bursting into laughter.
"He is, isn't he." They continue to laugh, until it finally dies between them. "You will be kind to him while I am gone, yes?"
"I haven't the faintest idea of what you mean." Contessina says rather imperiously. But as Lucrezia stares at her friend, Contessina relents. "Very well, I shall not pick a fight with him. But you know I cannot control his actions." Lucrezia smiles at her.
"That is all I ask." Lucrezia grips her tightly in an embrace. "I shall miss you so much, my dear."
"And I you. Do not hesitate to ask for advice or help, I beg you."
"I swear it." They embrace once more, and then Lucrezia kisses her on the cheek. And they part, silent and solemn. The next day it was told that the Lady Lucrezia left the city bereft and looking forlorn. And two people mourned her leaving them, for she is a sister and a dear friend.
The Convent of St. Cecilia
The abbess left him standing before the door. He takes a breath and opens the door. And she is sitting there. Only her face show from her wimple, everything wonderful about her covered only for God to see. He shuts the door firmly, before speaking.
"Sister Martha?" He could hardly believe it and in the sight before him.
"Do I detect some levity in your tone, Cardinal?"
"Perhaps."
"It is inappropriate, surely. You are the cardinal benefactor of the Sisters of St. Cecilia. Although even I can see the humour in that."
"You knew? When you chose this convent?"
"I discovered, after I had taken my vows."
"Shall I resign my responsibilities? Assign the benefice to another cardinal?" She almost looks hopeful at this before she shakes her head.
"No. I shall never be free of you, Cardinal. I knew that." He moves toward her, intent on taking her in his arms. She gets up and moves away from him, resisting temptation. "You cannot touch me, Cardinal. No man can touch me now. The one who touches me, who lives inside my heart, who visits me nightly, died on the cross many centuries ago." He gives a scornful laugh before he sits down.
"Ah! I have another rival then. And I cannot kill Him."
"You blaspheme now! Would you put yourself beyond the grace of God entirely, Cardinal?"
"No. I would manage my own destiny. You asked me for liberation."
"And you gave it to me. You delivered me to here. I spend my day in penance and…oddly enough, in peace. You have a power, Cardinal Cesare Borgia, a strength, a destiny that even you do not recognize. You read my heart, with what may indeed have been the Devil's insight, and you delivered me to God. You can use that strength for good or for ill, but I have no doubt it will be used, and the whole of Italy will be changed by it." During this whole tirade, Cesare is in disbelief. This woman says she believes in what he can do but cannot abide by the methods he uses. She is a coward hiding in her convent.
"Are you clairvoyant, Sister Martha?"
"No, but I think I have been given some insight into what guides your heart."
"You never knew me, not really. If you did, then you turned a blind eye and spurned me when the truth was plain in your face. Lie to yourself all you want, but I see through you."
"Nevertheless, I will never love another man. And you should leave now Cardinal." Even though he is angry, he cannot resist to steal one more possessive kiss. He moves to do so, but she pushes him away. "It is forbidden." She rings the bell, summoning the abbess, all the while refusing to meet his eyes. The door is opened, and the moment ends. This is it; he is done with her. He leaves with no word to her, determined to leave her bereft of him. This dream, this distraction, is over. He no longer will have thoughts of her. No, the only woman he will have in his head will be that infernal woman. The past few days have been filled with anger and pettiness at each other, neither being willing to budge. He admires her perseverance, though he loathes that it is directed at him. He may have earned this consternation, but that does not mean he has to accept it.
The Vatican
As he enters his father's chambers, he sees his father pacing beyond the threshold, and Contessina sitting in a chair, biting nervously at her lip. How vexing, and…arousing. He crosses the floor, standing by Contessina.
"You asked to meet me, Father."
"Yes, my son." His Holiness walks in and closes the door before looking at them both. "We have had intelligence that 25,000 and more French troops are marching towards Milan." Cesare stares in disbelief and astonishment.
"My God."
"Indeed. An apocalypse." The Pope paces the floor, uneasy, while Cesare speaks again.
"It is a long march from France to Rome. Anything could happen."
"Well, Milan will grant safe passage. Il Moro has made his intentions abundantly clear."
"And what about Florence?"
"Well, Lady Medici? What of Florence?" The Pope turns to Contessina, expecting her to answer.
"It will depend on the French King, and what he does next. If he remains bloodless, then mostly likely Piero will fight. But the French have been fighting for a hundred years now. If he continues in a previous manner, then Italy will know fear, and Florence, and my coward of a brother, Piero, will grant them passage. But it has been years since I have been in Florence, and my brother only keeps one counsel."
"And its counsel is called Niccolo Machiavelli." Contessina continues, already knowing Machiavelli's ways.
"He says Florence will do nothing if its territories are not invaded."
"And if they are?"
"Then it will do something." Cesare this, drawing back to his conversation with the man in question.
"Its something may not be enough for us. French arms may alter the whole equation!"
"Has the College of Cardinals heard?" Such a meeting would require Cesare to be there.
"No, but they will. And we can imagine the discord already, everyone dividing into factions. We are facing a battle for our very survival." At these words, Contessina leaves them. After a few minutes in his father's company, he leaves as well. In his anger and fear, he would love to seek her out, but he knows he would not be welcomed. Their tempers are too well matched, twin flames burning, either together or to each other's destruction. It shall not be the latter. He is whole heartedly hers, every part of him acknowledges this. It is only his pride that is injured, and that will heal with time. But for now, being cordial will have to suffice. Cesare searches out Cardinal Sforza and he eventually find him leaving his offices. As he walks with the cardinal, he begins to speak.
"Your cousin's Dukedom of Milan is now host to the arms of King Charles of France."
"Not for long, I would imagine."
"Indeed. He is allowing free passage of the armies through his territories, south."
"Well, we must all pray for deliverance, then." His disdain and apathy for the situation makes Cesare stop him in his tracks, his face hard and unyielding.
"And how does he imagine the Pope will regard this betrayal?"
"Betrayal? I was told that the armies of France threaten Naples, not the Holy City of Rome."
"So, they will pass through Rome, if they get this far, and leave the Holy City as it was."
"What other outcome could one wish for?" The cardinal says, so unconcerned.
"I think you know, Cardinal Sforza, that Cardinal Della Rovere has but one end in view: The deposition of our Holy Father, the Pope."
"Yes, a grave matter, indeed. And with few precedents."
"And your attitude to this possibility?"
"I myself voted for the Holy Father."
"So he can count on your continued support then?"
"Yes, of course." The cardinal says, exasperated at this conversation. He walks a short ways away before Cesare speaks again.
"What else would you say to me, his son?"
"Indeed. What else, Cardinal Borgia? What else?" Cesare catches up to him, the warning plain in his voice.
"You would be wise to be steadfast in this matter, Cardinal. You have another cousin married to my sister. He would be wise to remain steadfast too." Sforza laughs, with ill-favored humour.
"Shall I tell him that, or should you? Or should we leave that responsibility to your sister, Lucrezia?" He leaves then, leaving Cesare to stew in anger and frustration.
The Vatican
Days later in the Holy Father's chambers, Contessina is praying with the Pope when Cesare storms in. The Pope finished the prayer before addressing Cesare.
"You have heard what happened in Lucca, my son?
"The whole world has heard, Father. King Ferrante had died."
"Indeed. And did he die repentant?"
"He has been dead for years, to sense and logic. But the throne of Naples is free at last. Alfonso will demand its investiture.
"Well, the French King demands it too."
"His army heads to Florence." They all cross over to the adjacent room, all of them getting more frustrated.
"Well, we must muster what forces we can."
"And what forces are they?"
"The armies of the papal states. Of the Sforzas. The great lords of the Romagna."
"And you think they can resist French arms?" Contessina asked in disbelief.
"They are all the forces we have."
"Under what leadership?" Cesare asked, desperate to wage war, and to prove himself.
"Of the Gonfaloniere, the Duke of Gandia, Juan Borgia."
"You are blinded by affection, Father."
"Can you suggest an alternative."
"Father, Father…Give me control of them. I will do what is necessary." Pleading with his father for a chance of glory, the hope and desperation on Cesare's face. But the Pope simply waves his hands as if batting an annoying fly away.
"You have no experience of battle, my son."
"Does Juan?"
"Yes. He's been bred for this moment. His whole life has been spent in training for such an event." At this, Contessina interrupts with a placating look on her face.
"Forgive me, Your Holiness, but training and leading are two different things, and he is untested in battle."
"Exactly, he's played at games of war, Father. He has yet to experience reality."
"Well, he'll have the condottieri to advise him. If Florence resists French arms—"
"Which it won't, not with my coward brother." Contessina interjects.
"—then we may yet have time."
"And you think they will?" Cesare asks before leaving the both of them. Contessina sits in weariness, the possibility of what must be done looming before her. The Pope goes to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I am sorry, my dear, for what I must do." Contessina gives him a sad smile before she speaks.
"I will always love the city of my birth, but I am here now. And the only member of my family that I care about is safe outside the city and away from the French armies."
"Oh, I had thought you only had the detested brother, Piero. You have another?" She smiles in fondness, the memories of her brother coming to the forefront of her mind.
"My younger brother, Giuliano. He is around Lucrezia's age, and quite smart. He almost went to the Church, but I persuaded him otherwise. We already have one brother in the Church and the other is the Fool of Florence. He must be the example the Medici's are known for."
"And he is the example?"
"He is. He is spending some years in Venice to learn of government and politics, in hope of claiming Piero's seat, if the city or the Mad Friar does not drive him out first." They share a laugh before the Pope leaves for a meeting of the cardinals. And then she thinks of Cesare and his wish to command troops. He would do well in that position, because of his presence and authority. The very things Juan lacks.
Cesare is entirely bored of this meeting. They spoke of the basic and boring things for before moving onto the important matters at hand. But he cannot move the proceedings along, only his Father can do that.
"We will excommunicate Florence if the French armies are admitted." Every time anyone in the College of Cardinals speaks, they all talk amongst themselves and then the noise dies down again. Cardinal Sforza leans forward to speak.
"Excommunicate the entire city, Your Holiness?"
"The Medicis, the Pazzis, Machiavelli, the whole Signoria." The cardinals mutter loudly in approval. "And we will have that Savonarola burnt. We will bear no more opposition to our word." One of the cardinals pops in after the Pope speaks.
"Then you must excommunicate half of Christendom. Because half of the world is against us." This enrages the Pope, who stands from his seat in anger.
"We will not tolerate this heresy! This apostasy! This is the chair of St. Peter's! We are the Voice of the Living God! We will occupy this chair until our death, and the fires of Hell shall rain down on those who would oppose us! We are, all of us about to be sorely tested. And you are either with us or against us. We hereby impose an excommunication upon that heretic apostate Cardinal Guiliano Della Rovere." Everyone being talking at this, some in agreement, some in the opposite. "We ask for your support in this most solemn declaration. We demand your compliance, so a show of hands, Your Eminences. If you please." There is nothing but silence in the chamber until Cardinal Sforza raises his hand.
"Your Holiness, may the vice-chancellor speak?"
"Yes, Cardinal Sforza. He may." The Pope says with anger in his voice before he sits back on the throne.
"It would be unwise to use the Church's most solemn sanction to so little effect."
"What does the vice-chancellor mean?"
"Excommunication or not, this invasion will proceed. We may all have to adjust ourselves to new realities." The meeting ends with little fanfare, and the feeling of doom descends upon them all. But the Borgias and the solitary Medici feel it most of all.
Later that evening, Contessina dined with the Pope and La Bella Farnese, talking of the current state of Italy. The Pope is in a depressive state, questioning everything.
"Who can we trust…in this charnel house called Rome?"
"You can trust us." Both Giulia and Contessina tell him, and it seems to ease him a little.
"The Sforzas of Milan…have deserted us. I wonder, will the Sforzas of Pesaro do the same?"
"Lucrezia, who married one, would know." Contessina says.
"But I hear nothing from her. I wonder, would you two travel to Pesaro, find out what she knows?"
"Gladly." Giulia says, answering for the both of them.
"We will miss you, in our hour of need."
"And I will miss you. But I will suffer your absence, if it sets your mind at ease."
"There was a confessor I had when I first took holy orders. A Franciscan friar, the most holy of men. I would emerge from his confessional…like a boy newly washed in the morning dew. Untroubled. Clear. We long for that clarity in this moment of time."
"Summon him to Rome, Your Holiness. While we ride to Pesaro." They finish their meal, before the ladies excuse themselves to pack their things for the ride the next day. And Contessina tells nothing to Cesare, not wanting to disturb him. She sleeps fitfully, before rising early to join Giulia.
They ride for hours, finally arriving in the afternoon. They ride into the courtyard, winded after the journey. A stable hand approaches them, and Giulia speaks.
"Are we in the right place? Residence of Lucrezia Borgia?" The boy looks nervous before saying,
"Sforza."
"Sforza." They both hop down from their horses and enter the castle. They take off their cloaks, fix their hair, and wait to be announced. Finally, they are introduced before Giovanni Sforza, and surprisingly, his cousin Caterina. He stands up to greet them.
"La Bella Farnese and Lady de Medici. May I introduce my cousin, Caterina Sforza." Giulia approaches, speaking softly while Contessina stands back.
"Your reputation precedes you. And the tales of your military prowess."
"These are troubled times." The Tigress of Forli says.
"Indeed, they are."
"And the one we came to see? Your dear wife, Lucrezia?" Contessina asks of the lord.
"She is indisposed."
"Nothing serious, I hope?"
"The politics of our Italy have unnerved her."
"They have unnerved us all." Caterina says before looking at Contessina. "I was sorry to hear of your mother's passing, my lady. We have been on opposite sides, but I always respected her." Spiteful bitch. Her husband helped assassinate my uncle, and when her mother went to the Pope to ask recompense, Caterina thwarted her mother's efforts. She trying to rile her.
"My thanks, my lady. I wish I could say the same of my mother, but she never mentioned you to me." Contessina hopes she will take that as she meant it. Caterina gave a terse smile.
"You both…have the Pope's ear, ladies." Giulia walks to sit beside Contessina before replying.
"At certain times."
"So, enlighten us. Will he resist this French invasion? Will he bring bloodshed and carnage upon all our heads?"
"You are no stranger to bloodshed, are you, Lady Sforza?"
"I would save my arms for battles I can win."
"If you are asking us, will he accept his deposition as the Pope of Rome…the answer is never.
"With what armies will he confront the French?"
"With the armies of the papal states. Of the lords of the Romagna. The Colonna. The Salviati. The Sforza."
"Oh, we're all doomed then." Giovanni says before looking to his cousin.
"No. No, the House of Borgia is doomed. The arms of the House of Sforza will remain where they belong: In the Romagna."
"But what of my lord's marriage with the House of Borgia?"
"What of it?" He asked with nonchalance.
"You will let these French armies march to Rome and do…"
"What everyone else in Italy is doing. Nothing."
"Have you shared this intelligence with your dear wife, Lucrezia?"
"She's too young to understand such matters." But not too young to marry, huh? Contessina and Giulia look at each other, and both get up and leave the room. They walk to Lucrezia's room, where she smiles weakly as they enter. They sit beside her, wiping her face with towels.
"Djem is in my dreams again, Giulia. And he still cannot speak. Can one contract the marsh fever in these mountainous regions?"
"I am sure the mountains have fevers of their own, but I know them not. But you are ill, Lucrezia. Describe your illness."
"I wake up, nauseous. I expel the contents of whatever I ate the night before. I sweat. It comes and goes."
"When does it come and go?"
"Mornings are the worst." Giulia and Contessina look at each other, both knowing what it is she is suffering from. Giulia gets up to get some more water before speaking again.
"Your husband…does he visit your bed nightly?"
"He had a hunting accident. He has slept alone since his fall."
"How strange." Giulia come over to sit on the bed again, looking to Contessina as she begins to speak. "We must leave this castle at first light, before the Lord Sforza awakes. Have you any friends you can confide in here?"
"There is a maidservant. Francesca. There is a groom. Paolo."
"You can trust this groom?"
"With my life."
"He was kind to you?"
"He was my only solace here."
"He can provide us with horses then."
"You said it was strange. Why is it strange, Giulia Farnese?"
"Because, Lucrezia, my love…I recognize the symptoms of your illness. And it's not called marsh fever. You're with child." The ladies leave her to prepare for the journey, knowing it will be a hard ride, and even harder escape from the Lord Sforza.
