Roderigo Borgia was holding court in his solar, far removed from the more ostentatious throne room of the Vatican. Any man with a brain in his head knew that the workings of the Church did not happen with those elected to positions within, but from those who had the money and means to use it. His son Cesare stood in the corner, sneering at the backs of heads of those with more pull than he had. His fingers kept spinning idly around the hilt of his sword, and kept shifting his weight, impatient.

"And I understand the plight of the people, Padre Gregio, I do. Unfortunately, your flock has been less than Christian to my soldiers."

"Your Eminence, the soldiers drew down upon them when the merchants were defending themselves. Every day, I am brought stories of the Vatican's men who take from carts and stalls. My people-"

"Your people, Signor?"

"Pardons, Your Eminence. Your people are trying to earn their bread as good men. When the guards do not pay and take what they will, they starve those who are doing nothing but trying to survive."

"I've heard enough," said Borgia, waving his hand. He helped himself to a cup of wine and some fruit, his usual breakfast. "If your people are being starved by those who are keeping my peace in the city, I will remove them. No guards whatsoever will cross into your district. Let the thieves and ne'er-do-wells have at them." He pulled a grape stem from his teeth. "Perhaps in time, they will come to welcome us again."

The cardinal sputtered for a minute, but knew he could not win against the Pope. He groveled away, thanking Borgia for his attention and wise judgement. Cesare laughed as the old man backed himself out of the room, trying very hard not to look at anything but the floor.

"And now, gentleman, that will have to do for now. I have a guest to whom I must attend."

"About that, Your Eminence. We had hoped we would be able to see her?"

Borgia lifted his chin, frowning. "Her? Her who?"

The other three men looked to each other, unsure of how to answer. Two looked to the other, who gulped awkwardly, trying to keep composure. "The-erm-the girl? Who fell from Heaven?"

"Oh, her. The angel," Borgia laughed mockingly. "Son, they wish to see Aurelia." Cesare spit onto the floor at the mention of her name.

"Aurelia?" asked one, furrowing his brow. "I do not recall any angel by that name."

"Because there wasn't one until last night, Signor. She had none until she nearly jumped from the carriage and asked the first man she saw on the street." He huffed, popping a slice of bread in to his bread. "Didn't know it, but she ended up nearly killing one of my servants. She is a danger."

"But is she the Messenger? "

I don't know. Perhaps it's the wrong angel that fell from Heaven?!" Borgia slammed his dagger into the loaf of bread, springing to his feet. "Get out, all of you!" The three men made short bows and rushed from the room as quickly as dignity would allow. Cesare laughed as the door shut behind them.

"What do you think of that, Father? Old men wanting to see a young girl. Probably hoping she'd give them all a good-"

"I said all of you leave," his father growled.

"Now, now, Father. You need someone to do the dirty work for you. You need me here to do what you will not."

"I do not need your help, boy."

"After your mishap with the wine last night? Hmm?" Cesare leaned into his question. His father shook his head, letting out a ragged sigh. "Poisoning her? Right from the off? You've become predictable in your age, Father."

"And what would you propose, Cesare? What? We should drag her naked into the street and let the guards show the people how human she is?"

"It's a start, I suppose."

"No! Martyring her in the square will not help our cause. We need to-" he cut himself off, hoping something brilliant would follow it. Nothing came. " We need to be patient. Show her that we are not the Throne. That we are the lightning in the hidden places. Turn it just enough, color it in the right shade to bring her to our sensibilities.

The younger Borgia narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Have your intrigues. Meanwhile, the whore will gain ground against us, or the Assassins will either scoop her up or put her down like a dog. Action, Father. We must take action, now!"

"We? No, Cesare. We will do nothing. I will turn her." He grabbed the dagger, finding it wedged through the tray and tip down into his desk. "You will stay away. If I even think you are anywhere near her, I will not think twice to remove you." He wiped the dagger along his capelet. "Leave me."

Cesare turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the far door behind him. Roderigo tossed the dagger on his desk and sank back into his chair. This girl was here, in his house, his hostage. If he could keep her here, away from the rabble, away from the Assassins, his order might remain standing.

It was not going to be easy. Tales of her arrival spread through the city quickly like a fire, street to street, district to district. It was still morning and he had already had people trying to break the barricade to rush the plaza and see her. An angel was a dangerous foe. Hope, even more so.

For a moment, he was certain that he knew she would bring his end. Better her than that Auditore dog. His grim revelations were interrupted by a knock at the door. A figure barely opened the door.

"Antonio? What is it?" He said, waving him in. Antonio slid into the room, bowing.

"Your Eminence, the Lady Aurelia is awake and awaits an audience with you."

Roderigo's throat tightened. "I'll see her. Firstly, what are the reports?

"The orchards where she descended have now become a holy site. The lesser clergy seem divided. Some are tending their flocks, others are combing the area over, looking for any trace of the chicanery, any wire, while others still are calling her a demon.

"In the city proper, people spread gossip like they do any other salacious bit of news. Some say she caught fire and began speaking in tongues. She healed the lame and the blind. San Gabriele himself heralded her arrival. They will say whatever they think people will hear."

Roderigo sat staring ahead, fingers steepled. "Well, as long as it sound preposterous."

"If I may be so bold, Signore, what is the truth of it?" Antonio took no pleasure in asking, but he seemed desperate to know.

"It is God's will she is here. It is my will to decide if she returns."

Antonio knew his master was not one to mince words. He nodded slightly, and accepted the answer.

"Send her in."

"Si, Eminenza." Antonio opened the door and left. Roderigo straightened his robes and brought out a fresh cup for his guest. Most of the food had been eaten, but perhaps she didn't eat. He wasn't sure. He sat waiting for about five minutes waiting for her to enter. Five minutes too long. The door finally opened and once again, Antonio stepped inside.

"The Lady Aurelia, Your Eminence." He stepped aside and bowed low as she entered. The attendants he had assigned her put her in one of Lucrecia's old dresses. She seemed uncomfortable in it.

"My Lady, please come in. Thank you Antonio, that will be all." The girl looked back at his servant. She smiled and inclined her head toward him as he returned it and left the two alone. A silent moment hung in the air, as if neither were sure who should speak or dare to breathe first.

She would be the to break it. "Eminenza," she said curtseying awkwardly. Perhaps that's why she was late. Trying to get it right. "I thank you for your hospitality."

"Of course, My Lady." He motioned for her to sit across from him. "Did you sleep well?"

She again, seemed unsure of her footing in the dress. The corsetting made her stiff and she could not figure out that if she sat on the edge of the chair, she'd look less foolish. "I believe I did."

"Good, good. I have been told by my past guests that the beds here are like sleeping on a cloud." he poured her a cup of wine. "I suppose you would be the one to confirm that claim."

"It was very comfortable, yes. I dreamt, I think, too." She took the cup from him, inspecting it. He sipped from his, cueing her that is was safe to drink. After a moment, she followed suit.

"Oh, an angel's dreams must be something spectacular. Do you wish to share?"

She shook her head, looking into her cup. "I do not remember what they were exactly. Just that they happened."

"Ah, yes." He leaned back slightly, stretching. "They are tricky things to hold onto."

Aurelia nodded. "Yes. Ephemeral."

Borgia's lips turned downward, in an approving frown. "A large word for a small woman."

She straightened herself even more rigidly and set her jaw. "Only my earthly body is. I am infinite, otherwise."

He smirked. She was infinitely vain and proud, as well. Such a woman's guard. She did not like her size called to question. "I meant no offence, my lady. Quite the opposite. I am...in awe." He watched her carefully as she tried to reassert herself. She made no discernible attempt.

"I was curious, Signore Borgia, if I might be permitted to go into the city today." She held her hands oddly, as if she didn't know what to do with them. Perhaps they, too, were a new concept as dreaming.

He smiled grandly. "Of course, my lady! I'll arrange a tour of the own for you, personally. There are a great many sites in this city that make us the envy of the world!"

"I am certain there are and that they do, but I was rather hoping I could see the people."

His smile remained, but his voice changed. "There will be people in every market stall you care to visit and church." He was trying to keep her as close to him and the vatican as possible. If she stepped one foot outside, there would be a riot.

"Yes, and I wish to see as many people as I may. I must find the hidden places."

"Ah, you wish to have an adventure," he said. "A lady, as highly born as you would have quite an adventure. All those thieves, and cutpurses, and kidnappers, and much worse. I would be curious how you would escape with your life."

"I am not afraid of men. I have done nothing to them. I have nothing for them, but love and Grace."

"And they will take it from you, whether you give it or no." Roderigo realized he was leaning forward in his chair, bracing himself on his desk. He settled back slowly. A long moment passed.

"Could it be, Signore Borgia, that you are the one who is afraid of men?"

He stood upright in an instant. "Hold your tongue, Woman! You dare speak to me in such a way?" His hand grabbed for the dagger, but he knocked it from his grasp and it clattered loudly onto the floor. His blood was pounding in his ears and his face went hot. She hadn't moved an inch. Never batted an eye.

"Eminenza, is everything alright?" Borgia didn't turn his gaze from her, but recognized the shape and sound of Antonio at the door. He must have been listening.

He swallowed hard. "Quite. Our guest wishes to go out into the town. Be so kind as to send her on her way."

Antonio took a moment to absorb the command and the scene. "Si, Eminenza."

Aurelia stood slowly, raising herself to her full, albeit diminutive height. "I thank you for you hospitality, Signor." She did not curtsey, but merely turned her eyes downward for a brief second. Antonio offered her his arm and the two left Roderigo to fume.

The girl knew something. She was not stupid. She was no lady, either. How dare that whore insult me! To my face! The audacity! He angry gulped down the rest of his wine. The heady rush would come moments later, but this was not a time for leisure. Roderigo hurled the glass to the floor, and marched for the door.

Throwing it open, his guards parted quickly, suddenly straightening up as he passed. They were talking about him, surely. Or that girl. The thought brought the lingering heat to his face again. His teeth clenched.

At the top of the flight of stairs, he saw Cesare. To be more accurate, he saw Cesare looking down on him. He heard women laughing, echoing from somewhere ahead. His son smirked and his fingered tightened around the hilt again. Roderigo would never admit, but he knew his son was right. The time had come for action.