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Paradisa, unknown.
"You look troubled," Ezio remarked, as she entered.
Lucrezia lingered by the door, with a frown on her face and her hands clasped in front of her. Ezio moved towards her, reaching out a hand, which she reluctantly took.
"I am troubled," she admitted.
"Tell me about your troubles, then," Ezio replied.
Lucrezia looked away, still frowning. Ezio waited, patiently, wondering what could perturb the girl he'd known only as someone with a smile and endless curiosity, even in their more grim conversations. What would change it now?
"Your sister. Why does she refuse my company?"
Ezio experienced a fleeting moment of fear at the mention of Claudia, worried that Claudia may have given them away, but at the subject of company, that fear was replaced by concern. True, he didn't want Claudia in Lucrezia's midst too much, risking her temper giving them away, but he didn't want Claudia ignoring Lucrezia entirely –– that was equally, if not more suspicious.
"She does?" Ezio repeated, casually as he could. "Well, she is Claudia. She's as fickle as they come."
Lucrezia let her hand slip from his, and she sat on the bench in front of his window.
"But that does not explain why," she said. "Have I done something to make her cross? I was hoping we could be friends..."
Ezio sat down beside her, careful to avoid sitting on her dress. She glanced at him, eyes searching his for answers, and the hurt on her face was unmistakable.
"As was I," Ezio said. "But rest assured it has nothing to do with you."
That much was true, anyway.
Lucrezia gave a huff, tinged with annoyance. Ezio knew she wouldn't like his dancing around the subject, but he didn't feel he could be as honest as he otherwise would have been.
He continued: "I'll speak with her."
"I can bear not being friends with her, Ezio," Lucrezia replied, a bit more forcefully than before. "But I would know why she carries such a grudge towards my family, if it is not me she despises."
"I will speak with her, Lucrezia, I promise you," Ezio said, defensively.
She shifted in her seat, to better face him, and for the first time he saw relentlessness on her face.
"Is that it, then?" she asked. "Is her grudge with my family?"
Ezio frowned, but couldn't lie. "Yes," he said.
"Then it does have much to do with me, as I am of my family," Lucrezia replied.
Ezio felt whipped with that one, taken relatively off-guard by the sharpness to her tongue. He'd imagined it being there –– how could the Borgia daughter fail to inherit the same relentlessness that had undoubtedly been bequeathed to the Borgia sons? –– but he had never imagined having to contend with it himself.
He watched her for a moment, unsure how to pacify her. When the feeling of heavy-heartedness became too overwhelming, he stood up to pace restlessly.
"Lucrezia," he said, "I have promised you that I will speak with her."
"Can you not tell me why she despises my family so?" Lucrezia persisted.
He knew he'd be fighting with Claudia the second he brought the topic up with her. He didn't want to lie about Claudia, or pass her off as being entirely at fault while casting himself as the innocent one. It would be cruel to throw his own sister at the wolves' feet, particularly when her own approach was less... duplicitous than his own was.
There was also honour to consider. Ezio shuddered to think of what his father and brothers would think, or what his poor mother would think, to see him consorting with the enemy's daughter, even if that daughter appeared to be innocent.
He certainly knew Claudia resented him for it.
"Politics," Ezio said. It was a feeble answer. "Neither Claudia nor I believe your father deserves the Holy See. The difference is that I do not see his politics reflected upon his daughter. You, Lucrezia, are a woman of kindness and honesty. Claudia simply hasn't seen past your name."
Lucrezia was quiet for a moment, and then she replied, simply, "It is unfortunate, but I understand."
He could tell she was not only hurt, but also offended. Ezio just looked away.
The silence hung between them for a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally.
"I must go," she replied, rising to her feet. "I am meeting a dear friend for tea."
Ezio felt worried, suddenly, that the silence would persist between them for weeks. As she walked to the door, he fell into step beside her, and when she neared the door he grabbed her wrist. She turned to look at him, eyes widened. He didn't think, he just acted. He turned her around to press a kiss to her lips.
For a moment, she let him, sinking into it as well, her eyes fluttering closed and her hand drifting to his arm, and he felt her body draw closer to his. His free hand drifted to cup her cheek, and the kiss lingered.
Then, as fast as it had happened, she pulled away, her eyes opening again and meeting his with a surprisingly resolute look. Ezio wasn't sure what to say, or how to justify himself, and he wished he knew how to communicate verbally as well as he could physically.
She just watched him. He said nothing.
And then Lucrezia pulled away, slipping from his hands and through the door, rounding the corner into the hall. She vanished from his line of sight.
Ezio just let her go.
"You look troubled," Ezio remarked, as she entered.
Lucrezia lingered by the door, with a frown on her face and her hands clasped in front of her. Ezio moved towards her, reaching out a hand, which she reluctantly took.
"I am troubled," she admitted.
"Tell me about your troubles, then," Ezio replied.
Lucrezia looked away, still frowning. Ezio waited, patiently, wondering what could perturb the girl he'd known only as someone with a smile and endless curiosity, even in their more grim conversations. What would change it now?
"Your sister. Why does she refuse my company?"
Ezio experienced a fleeting moment of fear at the mention of Claudia, worried that Claudia may have given them away, but at the subject of company, that fear was replaced by concern. True, he didn't want Claudia in Lucrezia's midst too much, risking her temper giving them away, but he didn't want Claudia ignoring Lucrezia entirely –– that was equally, if not more suspicious.
"She does?" Ezio repeated, casually as he could. "Well, she is Claudia. She's as fickle as they come."
Lucrezia let her hand slip from his, and she sat on the bench in front of his window.
"But that does not explain why," she said. "Have I done something to make her cross? I was hoping we could be friends..."
Ezio sat down beside her, careful to avoid sitting on her dress. She glanced at him, eyes searching his for answers, and the hurt on her face was unmistakable.
"As was I," Ezio said. "But rest assured it has nothing to do with you."
That much was true, anyway.
Lucrezia gave a huff, tinged with annoyance. Ezio knew she wouldn't like his dancing around the subject, but he didn't feel he could be as honest as he otherwise would have been.
He continued: "I'll speak with her."
"I can bear not being friends with her, Ezio," Lucrezia replied, a bit more forcefully than before. "But I would know why she carries such a grudge towards my family, if it is not me she despises."
"I will speak with her, Lucrezia, I promise you," Ezio said, defensively.
She shifted in her seat, to better face him, and for the first time he saw relentlessness on her face.
"Is that it, then?" she asked. "Is her grudge with my family?"
Ezio frowned, but couldn't lie. "Yes," he said.
"Then it does have much to do with me, as I am of my family," Lucrezia replied.
Ezio felt whipped with that one, taken relatively off-guard by the sharpness to her tongue. He'd imagined it being there –– how could the Borgia daughter fail to inherit the same relentlessness that had undoubtedly been bequeathed to the Borgia sons? –– but he had never imagined having to contend with it himself.
He watched her for a moment, unsure how to pacify her. When the feeling of heavy-heartedness became too overwhelming, he stood up to pace restlessly.
"Lucrezia," he said, "I have promised you that I will speak with her."
"Can you not tell me why she despises my family so?" Lucrezia persisted.
He knew he'd be fighting with Claudia the second he brought the topic up with her. He didn't want to lie about Claudia, or pass her off as being entirely at fault while casting himself as the innocent one. It would be cruel to throw his own sister at the wolves' feet, particularly when her own approach was less... duplicitous than his own was.
There was also honour to consider. Ezio shuddered to think of what his father and brothers would think, or what his poor mother would think, to see him consorting with the enemy's daughter, even if that daughter appeared to be innocent.
He certainly knew Claudia resented him for it.
"Politics," Ezio said. It was a feeble answer. "Neither Claudia nor I believe your father deserves the Holy See. The difference is that I do not see his politics reflected upon his daughter. You, Lucrezia, are a woman of kindness and honesty. Claudia simply hasn't seen past your name."
Lucrezia was quiet for a moment, and then she replied, simply, "It is unfortunate, but I understand."
He could tell she was not only hurt, but also offended. Ezio just looked away.
The silence hung between them for a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally.
"I must go," she replied, rising to her feet. "I am meeting a dear friend for tea."
Ezio felt worried, suddenly, that the silence would persist between them for weeks. As she walked to the door, he fell into step beside her, and when she neared the door he grabbed her wrist. She turned to look at him, eyes widened. He didn't think, he just acted. He turned her around to press a kiss to her lips.
For a moment, she let him, sinking into it as well, her eyes fluttering closed and her hand drifting to his arm, and he felt her body draw closer to his. His free hand drifted to cup her cheek, and the kiss lingered.
Then, as fast as it had happened, she pulled away, her eyes opening again and meeting his with a surprisingly resolute look. Ezio wasn't sure what to say, or how to justify himself, and he wished he knew how to communicate verbally as well as he could physically.
She just watched him. He said nothing.
And then Lucrezia pulled away, slipping from his hands and through the door, rounding the corner into the hall. She vanished from his line of sight.
Ezio just let her go.