Author's note: I swear I haven't abandoned Giovanni's Redemption, but I just had this thing where I realised I was trying to write three stories in one! So I've decided to really try and split the themes into different stories to ensure a high quality of work, instead of attempting a new War and Peace and never finishing it. Enjoy, and thank you for reading my stories! ~ HerFrozenCharms
Chapter 2 - Francesca
It took Francesca a long time, but she finally managed to convince her mistress to get off the floor and into bed - or rather, onto it. After Lord Sforza's men explained his orders and departed, Lady Sforza stayed standing where they left her for a while. Then she sat down on the floor, with the same vacant expression on her tear-streaked face, and crawled across the room to the corner of her bed. She leaned against the wooden board, wrapped her arms around her stomach, and closed her eyes.
Lady Sforza had been upset before, which was hardly surprising, considering who she was married to - but never like this. Francesca didn't know what to say, but perhaps she didn't need many words.
Perhaps it would be enough for her to say that she was right there if Lady Sforza needed her - and, of course, to keep trying to make her get some proper rest. She knew she had to be patient.
At daybreak, her efforts were finally rewarded.
Without taking off her cloak, or her mud-stained gown with dead leaves clinging to the hem, Lady Sforza finally lay down. Her hair was still pinned down by a heavy golden hairnet, pulling heavy on her scalp. With one hand on her rounded bump, she fixed her eyes on the bed curtains, following the embroidered patterns up and down.
The rays of the sun had almost climbed their way to the ceiling beams, but were thwarted by the thick window curtains. Outside the bedroom window, some of lord Sforza's men were tending to their horses. Francesca listened in intently, but could only make out snippets of their conversations.
"I feel so filthy." Lady Sforza's voice was a thin, faint shadow of a whisper.
Letting the shirt she was mending fall to the floor, the maidservant rushed over to the side of the bed, eagerly looking into her mistress' face.
"Would my Lady like to take a bath?"
Lady Sforza didn't respond. Two faint red lines bloomed on her cheeks, sun-burnt and chafed after riding in the winter wind.
"I'm filthy," she repeated at last. Her eyes filled up with tears. She buried her face in her pillow, and her shoulders began to shake.
Francesca gripped her mistress by the arms, and lifted her up. "My lady - my lady! Please, tell me what happened. I want to help you!"
Lady Sforza hugged her stomach, dropped her head on the maidservant's chest, and dissolved in heart-wrenching sobs.
"He's going to hurt my baby!"
"No. No, my Lady." Francesca was expecting this. She held her mistress tightly, and gently began to rock her. "He wouldn't. He couldn't. And your family would never stand for it! No, he wouldn't dare."
With the younger woman still in her arms, the maidservant sat up slightly, craning her neck to look down on the empty courtyard.
"Where is he, my Lady?"
Lady Sforza stopped crying. "What do you mean?"
"Lord Sforza hasn't returned yet."
"My Lord didn't come home last night?" Francesca shook her head no. "That's very strange. He was determined not to delay my… punishment." Lady Sforza climbed down from the bed, wrapped a plaid around her shoulders, and leaned out of the window. "Is it wrong that I'm happy he hasn't come back?"
Francesca chuckled. "Don't tell your father I said this, but I don't think so, my Lady. If he disappeared off the face of the Earth tomorrow, not a single soul in Italy would miss him. Apart from his cousin, maybe," Francesca rolled her eyes, "which is hardly an endorsement."
"It's true that he is incredibly unkind…"
"He is incredibly cruel, my Lady, not just unkind."
Lady Sforza shook her head. "But he's still my husband. And I have done him wrong. I never should have betrayed him like I have. And his… cruelty makes me feel more shame, not less."
She began to run her thumb up and down her palm, fingers interlaced. "People have always said, they've always whispered that my family were bad people, evil people. They said my father and brothers would do anything to get into power, no matter who stood in their way." She sniffled, holding back more tears. "I love my family, but I fear that their blood running in my veins is enough to damn me to hell, especially -"
And then her face darkened. Lady Sforza pressed her hand down on her chest, as if trying to find her heart. "Especially after what they have done to procure a dowry for my marriage."
She slumped down heavily on the windowsill, and stared vacantly into empty space. Her eyes widened, and her mouth began to curve downward, until she looked like a grieving mask that Francesca once saw on a building in Rome.
How could such terror sink its claws into the heart of a fourteen-year-old girl? What reckoning could she fear? What curse, what vengeance could be waiting for her in the shadows? What horrors yet to come?
If this secret turned out to be as awful as it seemed, Francesca knew she would not be able to offer any consolation. And once the story was out in the air, it would surely torture her, too. Perhaps there were, somewhere, quotes from the scriptures, from poems, that could dispel these fears, and prove their absurdity. But if words could exist on paper that had power over such a secret as Lady Sforza's, wouldn't her mistress have found them by now, and with them, her consolation?
For a moment, Lady Sforza looked so faint that Francesca feared that she would fall out of the window. But her mistress quickly collected herself, and rose to her feet.
"I've always wanted to be good. I've always wanted to be kind. And I thought I was - I hoped it was in my nature."
How could she not know that she was kind and good? Other nobles treated their servants like dogs, but lady Sforza never even raised her voice at anyone who waited on her. She was always considerate and polite, tending to her own needs where possible. In stark contrast to her distant, arrogant husband, she cared about the servants, and was clearly interested in the lives they led outside of the castle.
"You are kind, my Lady! You are good! How can you not know that?"
Lady Lucrezia smiled sadly, and shook her head. "If I was truly good, no amount of cruelty would be capable of making me do bad things. And even if someone hurt me, I would never have thought of hurting them back - if I was truly kind - if I was truly good!" She began to cry again. "Even if I escape my punishment here, I know I will never stop feeling guilty."
She took her tiny silver cross out of the pocket of her cloak, and held it in her palm, looking out towards the cliffs that surrounded the sea below. "It seems ancient, this guilt. Like I inherited it from some wicked forefather. I rise and go to bed with it, because my betrothal to lord Sforza was only made possible by - " Her sobs overpowered her once more, and she leaned on the bedpost and brought her hand to her mouth. "I don't know how much more of this I can take!"
As lady Sforza's knees buckled, Francesca held her close once more, and helped her into the chair.
"And to make it even worse - as if it could be worse! - my baby will suffer the consequences. My baby, who hasn't done anything wrong, who – If anything happens to it, I'll never be able to forgive myself!" Lady Sforza covered her face with her hands.
Francesca had no words to make her mistress see how wrong she was to be so harsh on herself.
But she had something even better.
"Nothing will happen to your baby, my Lady. I will never allow it!"
She pulled the younger woman's hands away from her face, and squeezed them tightly. "I'm going to need you to take your clothes off, and take a bath," she unfastened the hairnet and let lady Sforza's golden hair fall down her back, "and then get as much sleep as you can before nightfall. Come." She walked around to the back of the chair, and began loosening the laces of the dress."You have a long, hard journey ahead of you."
Lady Sforza lifted her hands up to unfasten her pearl necklace."I don't understand, Francesca."
The maidservant gave her a conspiratorial wink. "You will."
