reassured. The sinister realisation that I needed to be hidden and ‘taken care of’ terrified me. I knew my father had ordered deaths for less than my shame would cause him. So what might become of me in my confinement? More importantly, what might become of my baby?
A proxy wedding ensued. This was a common occurrence and the contract stated that the marriage was not to be consummated for a year. I would remain with my family in Rome during that time. For his trouble, my new husband, Giovanni Sforza d’Aragona (a mercenary captain), would receive 31,000 ducats as a dowry; a huge sum. His own illegitimacy ensured his compliance. Making a match with the daughter of the Pope was a very good political move. He did not know that his new wife was already with child. Any future meeting with me would take place long after the birth. He was paid well for all his patience.
‘What was he told?’ I asked Guila.
‘That your father considers you too young for consummation, but in a year it will be possible.’
‘So, I’m to be given to him anyway,’ I protested quietly.
‘We shall see,’ Guila smiled. ‘Your father has the whole thing worked out.’
So on the twelfth of June I was taken from Rome, immediately after the wedding, up into the mountains and to a house in San Marino, out of the jurisdiction of Rome. Six months later, I gave birth to my first son.
Chapter 11 – Present
A Thief In The Night
I stare at the tears in her eyes. Why am I so surprised that Lucrezia once had humanity? Why am I so amazed that she loved her child? My arrogance has led me to believe that I was the only one who had emotions, who cared about the past. Now I am more intrigued than ever to know what happened to her to make her so bitter and cold when we first met, when she changed my life forever.
‘You loved your son.’
‘Yes, and like a thief in the night they took him from me. I gave him a name though, I called him Antonio; I don’t know if he was called that later.’
I blink, confused. ‘What happened to him?’
She shakes her head, unable to speak.
We are in a bar now, no longer at her house. Lucrezia had said she wanted a more neutral territory to tell me more. The music from the speakers is too loud and the Karaoke will start soon. It is hardly the right place to discuss the old world. It is most certainly inappropriate to reveal such raw emotion. Yet this is her chosen place. This is her appointed ‘neutral’.
‘Would you like to leave, go somewhere quieter?’ I ask.
She blinks, looking around as though she has only just noticed the noise and the bustle. I narrow my eyes at the waiter who placed us here. Another time I would have killed him just for looking at me in the wrong way. He’s arrogant and shifty and of mixed race, though I can’t tell what mix. He finally brings the drinks we ordered, slamming them down on the table before us.
‘Eleven pounds fifty,’ he demands. I hand him the exact money. I feel no urge to reward his attitude.
As he snatches the money from my hand, clearly annoyed that I haven’t tipped him, I notice he has a small tattoo on his knuckle. It is some form of Celtic symbol. It looks like a fish on a hook. Strange.
We are in a corner, not quite a booth, but out of the way and it does afford us some privacy. Lucrezia glances down at her shaking hands. She clasps the large glass of red wine she ordered. She is silent.
On the stage a Christina Aguilera wannabe takes up the mike before the intro for Beautiful pours from the speakers around the room. The girl sings; she’s good. I feel Lucrezia move beside me and I look to her again. She sips her wine; her fingers aren’t trembling anymore. Her composure seems to have returned.
‘I never saw my son again,’ she continues. ‘One glimpse they allowed me, and then they took him. I have no idea what happened to him after that. Guila assured me he would be raised by a loving family. At first I didn’t believe
A proxy wedding ensued. This was a common occurrence and the contract stated that the marriage was not to be consummated for a year. I would remain with my family in Rome during that time. For his trouble, my new husband, Giovanni Sforza d’Aragona (a mercenary captain), would receive 31,000 ducats as a dowry; a huge sum. His own illegitimacy ensured his compliance. Making a match with the daughter of the Pope was a very good political move. He did not know that his new wife was already with child. Any future meeting with me would take place long after the birth. He was paid well for all his patience.
‘What was he told?’ I asked Guila.
‘That your father considers you too young for consummation, but in a year it will be possible.’
‘So, I’m to be given to him anyway,’ I protested quietly.
‘We shall see,’ Guila smiled. ‘Your father has the whole thing worked out.’
So on the twelfth of June I was taken from Rome, immediately after the wedding, up into the mountains and to a house in San Marino, out of the jurisdiction of Rome. Six months later, I gave birth to my first son.
Chapter 11 – Present
A Thief In The Night
I stare at the tears in her eyes. Why am I so surprised that Lucrezia once had humanity? Why am I so amazed that she loved her child? My arrogance has led me to believe that I was the only one who had emotions, who cared about the past. Now I am more intrigued than ever to know what happened to her to make her so bitter and cold when we first met, when she changed my life forever.
‘You loved your son.’
‘Yes, and like a thief in the night they took him from me. I gave him a name though, I called him Antonio; I don’t know if he was called that later.’
I blink, confused. ‘What happened to him?’
She shakes her head, unable to speak.
We are in a bar now, no longer at her house. Lucrezia had said she wanted a more neutral territory to tell me more. The music from the speakers is too loud and the Karaoke will start soon. It is hardly the right place to discuss the old world. It is most certainly inappropriate to reveal such raw emotion. Yet this is her chosen place. This is her appointed ‘neutral’.
‘Would you like to leave, go somewhere quieter?’ I ask.
She blinks, looking around as though she has only just noticed the noise and the bustle. I narrow my eyes at the waiter who placed us here. Another time I would have killed him just for looking at me in the wrong way. He’s arrogant and shifty and of mixed race, though I can’t tell what mix. He finally brings the drinks we ordered, slamming them down on the table before us.
‘Eleven pounds fifty,’ he demands. I hand him the exact money. I feel no urge to reward his attitude.
As he snatches the money from my hand, clearly annoyed that I haven’t tipped him, I notice he has a small tattoo on his knuckle. It is some form of Celtic symbol. It looks like a fish on a hook. Strange.
We are in a corner, not quite a booth, but out of the way and it does afford us some privacy. Lucrezia glances down at her shaking hands. She clasps the large glass of red wine she ordered. She is silent.
On the stage a Christina Aguilera wannabe takes up the mike before the intro for Beautiful pours from the speakers around the room. The girl sings; she’s good. I feel Lucrezia move beside me and I look to her again. She sips her wine; her fingers aren’t trembling anymore. Her composure seems to have returned.
‘I never saw my son again,’ she continues. ‘One glimpse they allowed me, and then they took him. I have no idea what happened to him after that. Guila assured me he would be raised by a loving family. At first I didn’t believe
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