You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.
- Cayla Mills

Chapter 15:

"I told him everything, I mean everything. More than I have told even you."

Jane sat down on the bed of the small room in Alec's shop. Julio was still standing where he'd been standing when he let her in.

"It is unbelievable! How could I do such a thing? How?" She felt that she was close to tearing once more. "He will never trust me again – nor will the Volturi." She hid her face in her hands. "I thought I was ready."

She clenched her eyes shut even when they were already blinded by her hands when she felt Julio kneeling in front of her. His hands touched her wrists lightly and pushed them away from her face. Only when she opened her eyes did he speak. "Why are you upset?"

"Because he knows-"

"No, I know that." He looked at her seriously. "Why are you saddened by it?"

Her shoulders tensed up as her gaze flickered down. "It was childish of me. I cannot just go about blurting out all my secrets and weaknesses just because everything does not go as planned."

Julio shrugged. "You think the Pope will use your weaknesses against you? You, who have helped him so much? He would be foolish to do so."

Of course he was right, but that really didn't matter. "It was weak of me. Now he knows that I am weak. My only strength is caused by… that."

Julio shook his head and smiled at her. "It was brace, Jane. One of the bravest things you have ever done. And I love you for it."

He leaned in and kissed her quickly, soundlessly. She forced away her smile. It would be wrong of her to smile, after what she'd done to him. Another weakness added to the list. She had been careless for so long, it had to stop. For a second, she just wanted to tell him everything, but of course she couldn't. He would hate her – and right now, losing someone like him would be a great loss.

"Thank you." Her voice was weak, quiet, even though she really wanted to speak louder, tell him how thankful she was. Her entire life she'd been wearing a mask, she realized, and now she knew what would happen if she let it fall. She kissed him again, this time lingering for a moment, before pulling away. "Alec will be back soon."

Julio nodded, smiling at her in an attempt to make her smile back. "I should go. Cesare is taking me to that monastery to see Lucrezia."

Julio cupped her chin with his hand, kissing her again. "Good luck."

The next moment, Jane was gone as if she'd never even been there. Seconds later, she was standing on top of a building surprisingly far away. From there, you could see the destroyed cathedral being rebuilt. Large wooden constructions had been raised and construction workers that, from her view, seemed tiny were crawling all over it.

Jane looked at it for just a moment; the Pope's faith in himself had fallen as quickly as the stones of that ceiling. He was convinced that it had been God's will to kill all those people as a punishment for something he had done wrong, especially after it was confirmed that Della Rovere hadn't even been near Florence at the time.

Jane's mind seemed to have been shaken out of a trance by the tragedy at the Santa Maria del Fiore, she realized as she once more set to running. It was as if she had forgotten the importance of staying hidden, of doing things swiftly as to limit their consequences. She had made too many mistakes lately, she had gotten lazy and used to being amongst humans. She needed to start again, and now, and she already knew what she would start with; the young vampire.

She hadn't seen him again after that night, hadn't had time to worry about him and she was surprised to see that he had remained quiet. There had been no out-of-the-ordinary murders, no superstitious rumors of a demon running wild in town, not even a single sighting.

Jane jumped down from the roof of a building, landing in an alley not too far away from Machiavelli's house. When she entered the small courtyard, she was immediately met by Cesare.

"Good morning, Cesare." She smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

He didn't seem at ease and his eyes kept glancing around him. "I am afraid I must cancel. Please go on without me and explain my sister that I had to stay."

Jane frowned. "What is it?"

He shrugged. Jane knew when a person wanted her to stop asking questions; Cesare was a great example of such a person right now. "It is probably just nonsense, but I will be helping Signor Machiavelli with some meeting."

"Has it got anything to do with the Papacy?"

Cesare shook his head. "No, not this time. I believe it is economics, rebuilding the church will be quite expensive. They want to borrow money from Rome."

"Ah." Jane nodded in understanding. "Will you give it to them?"

Cesare shrugged once more, snorting a bit. "I would have preferred not to, but my father is so convinced that he was at fault that he has accepted to pay fifty percent of the project."

Jane laughed at the irony, shaking her head. She even managed to bring a smiled on his face. "That is absolutely insane." This time, a real smile spread across his features.

"I know."

"Do not worry, Cesare, I will tell your sister what you are up against." She giggled some more while Cesare thanked her and said goodbye.

"Signora Volturi?" A young stable boy approached her. "Two horses have been saddled, milady."

"Thank you, but I will only need one. Cardinal Borgia had a meeting."

The boy nodded in understanding. "I will go fetch your horse then."

Jane watched the young man as he hurried to the stables. He quickly returned, heading towards Jane until he was interrupted by a young woman, about his age, with blonde hair and a kind face. She was smiling at him, carrying carrots that had black spots on them. Jane looked at them closely as they spoke, noticed how it didn't seem like a casual conversation even though it was a casual subject. When the stable boy reached out to take the bucket of carrots his hand brushed against hers and she innocently giggled while the boy watched her, apparently entranced.

Then he began moving towards Jane again. "Would you like some carrots with you for your horse?" he asked politely.

"No, that will not be necessary. How much is it for your services?" Jane fiddled with her pouch, light yellow to match her dress.

"Signor Machiavelli pays for me, so that is something you must sort out with him."

Jane nodded. "Well, do not tell Signor Machiavelli that I did this, but I believe that if you want that girl over there to really notice you, then you must buy her some flowers." Jane pulled out a quarter of a Florentine coin. "Here you go."

The boy took the coin gratefully, staring at it in awe. "Thank you."

Jane smiled, suddenly feeling a bit more powerful; she may have failed at some points lately, but she still had the power to do this.

She mounted the horse and quickly left the mansion. Within the hour, she had arrived at the convent.

Jane demounted the horse again after riding in through the gates to a small, rectangular garden. The pavement was of grey stones and there were no flowers or plants in the small yard, which was lined by a colonnade to all sides. A woman wearing the traditional black clothes of a nun was walking by inside the hall to her right hand side, disappearing and reappearing again behind the columns.

"Excuse me?" The Sister turned around to face Jane. "I am sorry for interrupting you, Sister, but I am here to find a woman who has been placed in your care. Her name is Lucrezia Borgia."

The woman stepped out from the colonnade towards Jane. "Are you family?"

"No, but I am a close friend of her and her father's. My name is Giovanna Volturi de Volterra." The nun nodded her head.

"Here, let me take that, milady," she said, smiling warmly as she reached for the reins of Jane's horse. Jane let go of them freely.

"Thank you, Sister. Where can I find her?"

"She is in her room. If you go in through that door-"The woman pointed to a door placed right across from the gate that Jane had entered through. "-you can wait while I see to your horse. Then I will take you to her room."

Jane nodded thankfully before walking to the appointed door. On the other side of the door, she found a dark room only lit by lamps. There were only two windows, one on each side of a large cross with a man carved from tree hanging on it. The man's stoic face was turned upwards, she noted, and not a single sign of pain had been included. Highly unrealistic. She frowned in mockery.

"Giovanna?"

Jane turned to face the owner of the frail, insecure voice behind her. She felt herself grow more apprehensive, though not entirely scared; a bit of determination lay behind the speaker's words, and determination mixed with uncertainty was a lethal combination.

Jane was surprised for a moment, seeing who it was, but then realized that she should have expected it. It was still strange how she had just thought of him this morning and now she found him here, in Lucrezia's convent. "Amadeo?"

"I thought you would come." His voice was dangerously innocent, his lips curving up into a smirk. The frail insecurity was still there, but it seemed like a mask which had fallen half off his face.

"Why?" Jane raised an eyebrow, showing her superiority.

"A supporter of the Borgia Pope, you said. Lucrezia Borgia is here." It was a strange way to put together a sentence and Jane suddenly realized how low his former social class had been. "I thought you would have been here earlier, especially since Lucrezia always talks about you. Apparently, you are friends."

Jane nodded simply, as if she just wouldn't bother herself to answer him. "How?" he said.

Jane sighed exaggeratedly. "How what?"

"How are you friends, how do you walk amongst the humans in daylight?" He stared at her; Jane could tell that his rage was building up. "How?"

"I already told you."

"The potion." He took a step towards her. "I want it."

"Well." Jane tilted her head a bit. "You cannot have it."

"What do you want?" His voice, face, eyes were now filled with determination. He wanted the potion.

Jane knew that she could get many things, so many things. He was desperate for the potion because he believed it would give him back his humanity. She wondered what she wanted in return for that illusion. Finally, she decided. "I want Della Rovere."

Amadeo rolled his eyes. "That's what you're getting for me."

Jane shook her head. "Not anymore. I have been looking for him, believe me. But after many years of searching I have found that I just cannot waste my time on that anymore."

He seemed to be contemplating her offer for a moment. "Okay," he said, finally. And just in time, because in the next second, the nun who had taken care of Jane's horse entered. Amadeo quickly flinched away from the light.

"Ah, I see you have met our other guest, Amadeo." The nun smiled at both of them as they quickly began muttering some courtesies. "Let me take you to Lucrezia's room, milady."

Jane let the nun lead her out of the dark room quickly, walking with her through a hall. "He's very afraid of sunlight, the poor boy," the nun said, politely discussing the boy.

"Ah," Jane said politely.

The nun stopped by a wooden door. "It's right in there. I will give you some privacy."

Jane nodded and thanked the Sister who then walked away, leaving Jane in the dark corridor. Jane stood for a moment, looking around her. This did not seem like the place where a human would go to find God; it was dark and cold, the buildings made entirely of stone. But Jane also suspected that if you went to a place like this, God would be the only hope you had.

She shuddered, thinking about how it must be to live here. Many religions had nun-like orders, but none as strict as the ones that she had found here in the Christian world.

Jane was shook out of her thoughts a moment later, hearing the sound of glass breaking from the other side of the door. She quickly reached for the door knob, fearing the worst for Lucrezia as she opened the door. What she found was not at all what she had expected, yet she knew that it was what she should have expected.

Across the room, sitting in a chair in front of a table with a mirror hung above it, sat the blonde girl. She was sitting straight, staring right into the remaining bits of the broken mirror, tear-filled eyes looking at their reflection. Large bits of mirror lay scattered across the surface of the table, colored in red, while her right hand hung down her side, flexed, with blood flowing out from the wounds on her hand.