That Same Night Marie was in her chambers, sitting in a chair by the fire, trying to read a book.
But the words blurred on the page. Her mind was too full of what had happened in the bath, of the impending separation, of everything.
The door opened without a knock. Lorenzo entered, dressed in her traveling clothes, dark leather riding breeches, boots, a heavy cloak.
She looked every inch the soldier, ready for a long journey.
"Pierro and three other men will remain behind to keep you safe,"Lorenzo said without preamble. "Marcello will accompany you to your father's estate. He will represent me at court when Henry summons me, but he will ensure to spend most of his time with you at the Boleyn estate."
Lorenzo reached into her cloak and produced a heavy pouch. She set it on the table. "This is your allowance. It should be more than sufficient for anything you need. And Marie..."
She paused, meeting Marie's eyes. "You can return to the castle whenever you wish. This is your home now."
Marie kept quiet. Emotions were piling up in her chest, pressing against her throat.
"Do you have to go now?" she whispered.
"Tonight?" Lorenzo nodded. "For safety. Traveling at night, leaving abruptly—it is better. Less notice. Fewer complications."
Marie stood, her legs still slightly unsteady. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a delicate handkerchief embroidered with her initials. She had dabbed her perfume on it earlier, jasmine and rose.
"Take this,"she said, pressing it into Lorenzo's hand. "So you do not forget me."
Then she broke down completely, tears streaming down her face. Lorenzo caught her as she collapsed forward, and they both sank to their knees together. Lorenzo held Marie tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her waist. They stayed like that kneeling on the floor, clinging to each other, until a knock sounded at the door.
"Your Highness," Marcello's voice came through. "It is time."
Marie pulled back just enough to look at Lorenzo's face. Then she kissed her, desperate, hungry, trying to memorize the taste and feel of Lorenzo's mouth. Lorenzo kissed back with equal fervor, her hands sliding up to cup Marie's breasts through her nightgown. She began kissing down Marie's neck, her body pressing forward. Marie gasped between kisses,
"Wait—I am still—I am sore—"Another knock.
"Your Highness..."Through the door, Marcello called out in Italian, "Le mie orecchie sono chiuse." *(My ears are locked.)*
They both laughed, the tension breaking slightly.
Lorenzo stood and helped Marie to her feet. She walked to the table where Marie had left something earlier, a ring, gold, with the Di Sforza crest engraved in intricate detail. An eagle clutching a blue flower.
"I had this made for you," Lorenzo said softly. She took Marie's left hand and slid the ring onto her fourth finger.
Then she brought Marie's hand to her lips and kissed the ring. "So everyone knows you are to be treated well as my extension."
Marie's tears fell fresh, but she was smiling. Lorenzo cupped Marie's face. "Behave while I am gone. No getting into too much trouble."
"I make no promises," Marie said arching her eyebrow.
Lorenzo kissed her forehead, then her lips one more time. "I will return as soon as I can. Wait for me."
Lorenzo left, her cloak swirling behind her. Marie stood at the window and watched as Lorenzo mounted her black stallion. Marcello and a contingent of soldiers were already assembled. They rode out through the gates, torches lighting their way, disappearing into the darkness. Marie touched the ring on her finger, still warm from Lorenzo's touch.
Return to the Italian
Court Lorenzo arrived at court feeling the weight of hostile eyes upon her.
Every courtier, every noble, every servant seemed to be staring as if she ought to be hanged right there and then. The world felt colder without Marie. These walls felt smaller and less safe without Marcello at her side.
She walked through the grand hall toward the throne room. The doors opened, revealing Alfonso seated on his throne, surrounded by his council. Orlo stood prominently among them, his face twisted with righteous anger.
The courtiers lined the walls, Uraca standing out among them, beautiful and cold. Sancho leaned against a pillar with a grin, clearly anticipating the drama about to unfold. Lorenzo bowed deeply to her cousin.
"Your Imperial Majesty." Behind her, her entire entourage dropped to their knees.
Orlo stepped forward before Alfonso could speak. His hand lashed out and struck Lorenzo across the face.
It was like his hand hit concrete. Lorenzo's face remained empty of emotion, not even a flinch. The slap might as well have been a fly landing on her cheek.
"My son has wronged the entire empire!" Orlo declared, his voice echoing through the hall. "And all because of a woman of low birth! The daughter of a scheming man who offers his daughters to the debauched English boy-king to grab power!"
Lorenzo's hand went to her sword.
In one fluid motion, she drew it, the steel singing as it left the scabbard.
Her eyes were deadly, menacing, fixed on her uncle.
Orlo took a step back, his bravado faltering. Every guard in the room drew their weapons and positioned themselves in front of Alfonso, ready to defend their emperor.
Alfonso looked stressed for a moment, his hand raised. Then Lorenzo dropped to one knee. She placed her sword on the ground before her, the blade pointing toward herself.
"I picked up this sword as a child," Lorenzo said, her voice clear and strong. "I have seen the deaths of men, women, and children of all ages. My life, like this sword, is at your feet, dear brother Emperor. I was selfish. I made the mistake of a young man, forgetting my duty as the Sword of the Empire."
Her soldiers remained on their knees, unmoving.
"If it is your wish to take my life for my sins..." Lorenzo raised her voice. "Soldiers, stand!" They stood as one. "Arms out!" They drew their weapons, hands shaking. "Strike me down when the emperor orders."
"Yes, Commander," they said in unison, their voices trembling.
Alfonso stood abruptly. "All of you, arms away! Now!"
The soldiers sheathed their weapons immediately. Alfonso descended from his throne and walked to Lorenzo. He helped her to her feet and picked up her sword, pressing it back into her hands.
"Why would we punish my cousin?"Alfonso said, addressing the entire court. "He secured a permanent seat for our empire in England. He bound our bloodline to English nobility. I say he has served his country well."
He raised his voice. "And for that, I reward him with an additional estate for his wife and any future children they may have."
A stunned silence filled the hall. "You are all dismissed,"
Alfonso commanded. The court filed out slowly, murmuring among themselves.
Many looked dissatisfied, believing the emperor too lenient with his cousin.
As Orlo turned to leave, Alfonso's voice stopped him. "Uncle. Never again lay a hand on the Sword of the Empire."
Sancho started to linger, but Alfonso said sharply, "You too, Sancho. Leave the adults to speak."
"But cousin..."
"Go. Now."Sancho left with a petulant expression.
When the hall was finally empty save for Alfonso and Lorenzo, Alfonso turned to his cousin. "I have one question for you, cousin."
Lorenzo straightened, her expression serious. "Ask what you will, Your Grace."