When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
- Game of Thrones

Chapter 22
August 8th 1498

Jane and Machiavelli had barely finished eating before a servant entered. "Excuse me, milord," he said, bowing slightly as Machiavelli turned his torso to face the servant, "Cardinal Borgia will be at the city gates soon."

Machiavelli nodded before turning to Jane. "He is still a cardinal?" The surprise was evident in his voice.

"He still bears the cloak, if that is what you mean."

One of the corner's of his lips twitched. "Would you like to join me in welcoming him at the gates? I will borrow you a horse if yours is too tired."

Jane accepted, standing up and following Machiavelli outside. His stable men were quick and just five minutes later they were once more by the gates, watching Cesare come closer in the horizon.

"It seems that he is not even wearing the cardinal's cloak anymore," Machiavelli noted when Cesare came close enough for them to make out his clothing.

"So it does seem." Jane pulled on the reins of her horse when it began getting impatient. "I wonder when he will manage to be stripped of the title as well. It can only be a matter of time."

Machiavelli laughed, shaking his head. "No one will strip Cesare of that title, especially not his father. It will be his own doing, believe me." He looked at her knowingly. "Cesare is the prince of all of Europe, and a rightful one at that. He is the only one who knows what he is good at, if only because he is only good at what he wants to be good at."

Jane frowned, looking back at the approaching rider. "He has brought his shadow," she said when she saw the red hair of Micheletto.

Once they entered through the gates, Cesare nodded to them both. "Signor Machiavelli, Lady Volturi." It took him some time to calm his horse.

"I trust you had a good travel," Machiavelli said politely.

"I did." Cesare winked. "And now I am in need of some good wine."

Machiavelli laughed, already turning his horse. "Then it is a good thing that I have abundances of exactly that." He glanced at Micheletto. "Will your manservant join us?"

Cesare looked at Micheletto, who cleared his throat. "I would not ask for as much, sir."

"It is not much to ask, after having accompanied a friend of mine all the way from Milan."

"I have accompanied your friend over longer distances." Micheletto's voice was even rougher than usual from his ride. "Besides, I do not drink. I do not like the taste or the effects."

Machiavelli shrugged. "Your loss, I suppose."

Once they reached Machiavelli's residence, he left the horses for the stable boys to take care of before letting his guests in. "Will you join us men in a cup of wine?" he offered Jane once they had entered.

Jane noticed that Micheletto had managed to disappear without anyone noticing. He would have to teach her how to do that one day. "No, thank you, but I am very tired from my travel. I will leave the drinking for you."

"Good night to you, then."

She smiled and curtseyed to both men. "Good night."

Cesare and Machiavelli disappeared into the dining hall where the food from earlier still stood. A maiden walked over to Jane. "You have been given the same room as last time, milady."

"Yes, and I will find it myself later." The girl looked confused but Jane merely said, "I have some business to attend to. I will get myself to bed when that time comes."

The girl, still confused, curtseyed and left quickly. Jane didn't waste any time; she turned around and went out through the doors, seeing Micheletto opening the gate that separated Machiavelli's home from the rest of the city.

"I did not know you didn't care for wine." She managed to make Micheletto stop and turn around while she made her way down the stairs from the elevated door.

"Milady," he greeted but she ignored him.

"I have caught you reeking of wine sometimes," Jane remarked.

"The stench of the men that I kill stay on my clothes sometimes." His eyes wandered over her. "Do you intend on following me?"

"No," she said simply. "Do you intend on following me?"

"You are going somewhere, milady?"

"Yes." She gave him one last look before passing by him through the gates and onto the streets. Turning around, she said, "I am going to see if I can find someone."

"Who?" He walked out of the gates as well.

"No one you would know." He certainly wouldn't know Amadeo. She wondered if he was still here, if he'd found Della Rovere. She didn't think he had, or the Pope would be far less alive. Whatever reason Della Rovere had had to experiment with the young boy, she knew it had to involve the Borgia family.

"Would you need protection?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "But you would not be enough to protect me." Her eyes met his and she smiled. "Are you meeting someone, Shadow?"

Micheletto looked away. "I am meeting nobody."

Jane frowned at the strangeness of his words. "No one or nobody?"

"Is there a difference?" His voice was strained.

"You know that there is." His eyes were still unwilling to meet hers.

"Nobody, then, milady."

Jane considered his answer for a few seconds. "Does Nobody have a name?"

Micheletto also took some time to think his words over. "He would not be nobody if he did."

She couldn't help but smile a little. "I will not follow you, Micheletto."

They eyes finally met and for the first time she saw desperation in his. "Will you tell Cesare?"

Jane swallowed, searching for the right words. "What is there to tell? There is no story in someone leaving to see nobody."

His smile was grateful. "I will bid you good night, then, milady Volturi."

"Thank you. Good night."

Jane watched as the man, the shadow, as she'd come to realize, disappeared from sight further down the street. When she was assured that he had left, she found a good place from which she could get on top of the roof. Finding a high vantage point, she had a great overlook of the city. She knew Florence from her many hunts, but this was different. Finding a vampire was complicated no matter where you were. Amadeo, she assumed, had used his time well and had found a clever hiding place.

But, as it turned out, she didn't even need to start the search.

"Lady Volturi."

Jane flinched at her name, turning around abruptly. She was on one of the highest building, far above the street, and at the opposite side of the roof, Amadeo stood. He was wearing a dark grey cloak, much like the monks that he had once belonged to. "Amadeo." Her voice almost indicated a question.

"You hadn't expected me?" He stepped closer to her, not waiting for an answer. "You promised me you would help me find my maker."

There was a slight hint of anger behind his disappointment. "I tried to search for Della Rovere but he had left no traces for me to follow."

Amadeo swallowed, turning so that only his side was facing her. His eyes were on the cathedral, still in progress of being rebuilt. "Perhaps there are better places for us to talk."

"Perhaps there are."

Amadeo's lips curled into a small smile, almost predatory. "Follow me."

And she did; through the streets of Florence, past windows to small shops and doors to even smaller homes, she followed him. She knew that he had something up his sleeve but she would like to see that something with her own eyes.

He finally stopped in front of massive stone building. They mounted the not so massive wooden stairs up to the second floor where there was a door, a simple cross made of tree hanging above it. Amadeo opened the door and said, "Please enter."

So she did. The small room was dark, only lit by candles. On the floor there were two makeshift beds, made mostly of blankets and a few pillows. They were place across the room from each other. The only other interior were various bowls and bottles. "You live here?" Jane asked as she looked around her.

"Yes." He followed her inside, kicking aside some stuff as he went.

Jane stopped in the middle of the room. "Who else lives here?"

"Patience." He held up one hand calmly. "You will see soon."

"I did so at the commands of others." Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "You will see." He walked further inside, brushing his shoulder against hers as he passed by her. "Wine?"

Jane looked at the bottle suspiciously. "Is it poisoned?"

Amadeo laughed. "As if it would harm you." His left eye brow shot up. "Or maybe there are poisons that do harm you?"

Jane shrugged. "I do not doubt it, nor would I be surprised if you were the one discovering them."

Amadeo put down the bottle again. "You mistake me for a Borgia. Surely they are the ones who study the poisons the most."

Jane didn't have the time to answer because the door opened just then. She turned around, seeing a man enter. He was wearing a cloak in the same fabric as Amadeo. Once he turned around, she recognized him immediately, even with the cloak's hood covering his face.

"Della Rovere?" Her voice was almost a gasp. She turned her head to face Amadeo. "You found him?"

"I did."

Jane turned back around, seeing Della Rovere smiling at her. He turned to Amadeo. "Leave us." There was a softness in his voice that veiled the command. Jane's eyes stayed on him, narrowing while Amadeo left them.

"It has been too long, cardinal."

"I am not a cardinal, if you remember." Della Rovere walked to her and for a moment, Jane thought he would attempt to kill her. He just brushed past her, though, picking up the wine and, from the sounds that she could hear behind her, took a great sip from it.

"You turn your back to an enemy?" Della Rovere sounded almost amused.

"And you drink in the presence of one." Jane turned around.

"If you wanted to kill me, you already would've."

"You too." Della Rovere smiled at her.

"You know, I always did find it a waste that your talents were wasted on the Borgia family." He took another swig from the bottle. "You are charming, cunning, talented. And you are very beautiful."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Waisted? On the Borgia family?" She let out a fake laugh. "As opposed to wasting them on you? You seem not much better, drinking from the bottle and all."

He smiled once more. "There must be one drunk in every alliance, mustn't there? I believe Juan is the drunk of the Borgia family."

"It is for medical reasons," Jane said, attempting to protect Juan. "He needs relief from the pain."

Della Rovere held the bottle in his hand, making its content swirl around in circles while he watched. "So do I."

Watching him closely, Jane tilted her head. "Why did you bring me here?"

He stopped his playing with the bottle, looking up at her once more. "I wanted to see my opponent."

"Your opponent?" Jane slowly made her way towards him, stopping halfway there. "Your opponent in what?"

Della Rovere smirked, putting down the bottle with a loud bang. "We are playing a game, Signorina, didn't you know?" He walked a few steps closer to her, the distance between them once more halved. "A game of chess, a game of power."

"And this game… if you are to win, why have you not killed me yet?"

"I like you. I respect you. Power is not only the ability to kill someone, but also to be bale not to kill someone." He didn't smile anymore; his face was stern and his eyes didn't show in the slightest that he had just consumed half a bottle of wine. "I choose not to kill you."

Jane licked her lips. "So, why am I here?"

"I have to warn you. You as well as I are playing this game, and you are siding with the wrong side." He was close to her now, his hand on her chin, the backside of his fingers caressing her. It was a fake caress; not one born of love or affection. He was showing off; telling her that any moment, he could seize her throat. "In this game, you either win or you die – and I do not intend on dying."

As if he'd suddenly awoken from a dream, he flinched away from her, turning around and walking to the other side of the room. With his back turned to her, he said, "You can leave now."

Jane stood completely still for another moment. "I do not intend to die either, cardinal. Neither do I intend to shift sides."

"Then I hope you are good at games." He still didn't turn around, nor move in the slightest. Jane's eyes still didn't leave his back.

"I have never played with boards or cards, but these kinds of games, cardinal, I have played many times." She stepped backwards towards the door, not removing her eyes from him. "Good night."

Surprisingly, as she turned around to leave, he spoke once more. "Goodnight, my lady."

Jane left the room then, went down the stairs and walked by the streets back to Machiavelli's residence. On her way she passed by the cathedral, halfway finished in its rebuilding. For a moment, she stood there, looking up at the towers, before continuing through the streets.