paradisa | xii. written

Entry tags:

lucrezia borgia

xii. written

[ Lucrezia writes in curled letters, more like pictures than text, a little poetry or is it a riddle? ]

πόλυ πάκτιδος ἀδυμελεστέρα χρύσω χρυσοτέρα

[ Meanwhile she is at the laundry room, seated on the floor with her light green gown spread about her. She has both hands on one machine, watching the colors spin through the glass with amazement on her face. Yellows, blues, greens and purples! ]

[ trans.; than the lyre, far sweeter in tone than gold, more golden. ]

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[ It isn't too difficult to do. ]

You know the reason. You only wish me to say it.

You can do that much for me, after not only driving away Cristina for nothing but also calling my integrity into question.

Not for nothing. [ She would insist. ]

I can never have you for myself but if-- [ Cristina were gone, but that sounds terrible, so she just stops to collect her breathing. ] But I was wrong to hope.

[He approaches her and puts a hand on her shoulder.]

You are right in that you can never have me. Not with Cesare here, not with how Stephanie and Molotov feel about it, not with the way I could never make an honest women out of you. And it is never wrong to hope, dolcezza.

[Pause.]

But it is wrong to deny another for the sake of a hope.

[ She tenses under his touch. This would hurt much less if she had hid herself from him until she is cured of her silly infatuation and maybe after... She's hushed when she speaks. ]

What else would you hear from me?

What would you want to hear, if you were in my shoes? How would you compensate?

[ She isn't sure she would care to hear anything. ]

I can't imagine.

[Not even an apology?

Ezio sighs.]

Does Cesare know?

[ She isn't very good at that at all, stepping back to be out of hi arm's reach. ]

I could leave. It would be simpler.

[It's almost sad that just over a decade from now, he'll be interrupting her romances, though for entirely different reasons.]

For you, perhaps. That would merely leaves me with more questions.

[ She sighs, mostly in relief that he might let her go after all. Maybe. She turns around so she would not have to watch him. ]

Is that what I owe you now? Answers?

Do you truly not feel guilt over this? I do not want to be angry or yell at you but you act like my concerns are just an inconvenience.

[ She turns back to face him anyway. ]

Why, when you have every right to? You sound as if you are merely curious of my intentions. Are you angry?

[He bristles a bit at that, defensively.]

Because I don't yell at women, because I'd rather you be a naive child than some conniving tramp, and most of all because I don't want this to be the start of something more. If you are fine to crush the heart of someone I love, what would you do to any other woman I were close to?