Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

pushes Cesare aside, takes me in his arms, and we giggle as we practice our courtly dances around the expansive tapestry-covered room. Cesare grabs Guilia up and follows us around the room. It’s so nice to be together again, since I haven’t seen them in months. Juan turns to Cesare, tapping his shoulder to cut in, and even though Juan doesn’t want to yield, I let go and take Cesare's hands.
    As we dance off, I have a hard time figuring out which brother is more handsome. Both are tall and well built, but Juan has a finer and more delicate face—Juan the poet. Cesare has more powerful facial features, high cheekbones, and a large but perfectly straight nose—Cesare the warrior. Peering into Juan’s indigo eyes is like falling into a deep pool, and Cesare’s amber eyes are the fire that warms you after. With only one year between them and both on the verge of manhood, it’s hard to say whose look is more intriguing.
    Out of breath, Juan decides to stop and falls down into a gold brocade chair near the fireplace. “Lucrezia and Giulia, how lovely you both are,” Juan says with a sweet smile between catching his breath.
    Giulia and I look at each other and blush. Little did they know we’d been standing in front of our dressing mirrors all day primping and trying on all of our dresses for the momentous occasion. I’ve stayed with the beautiful and good-natured Guilia the last few months, but I have everything I love dearest to me now in one place: Adriana, who is like a mother to me; Guilia the sister I never had; my exciting brothers; and most important of all, my father.
    Shortly after the private door that leads directly to St. Peter’s opens, my father’s procession spills into the room. My father, still wearing the papal crown and gown, holds his arms out to me and embraces me tightly. He also looks to Giulia and gives her an equally warm hug.
    He reaches to give Adriana a kiss. “Cousin, so nice to see you’ve arrived well.”
    She bows to him instead and says, “His Holiness, Alexander the Sixth, was very generous with our more than adequate quarters.”
    He smiles proudly at hearing his newly appointed name being said out loud. When she comes up, he still gives her the kiss he intended.
    “Come with me to dine tonight. I want Giulia and Lucrezia at my side.” He turns and looks us both up and down, hesitating a little longer on Guilia’s fine form. “I have two angels dining with me tonight.” He guides us both through the door into St. Peter’s.
    I’m seated in the huge and lavishly decorated dining room, my attention is drawn to the glistening of all the silver and gold pieces strategically placed around the long table. Besides our family all on one side, there are cardinals and noblemen dining with us.
    During our first course, Father turns to me. “Lucrezia, given our new circumstances from my election, I feel it would be in our best interest to cancel yet another of your betrothals.”
    I’m relieved, hoping it will at least delay a few more months.
    Cesare explains to me, “Now that we’re here, it’s more advantageous to choose someone who can be of more use to us in Rome.”
    “Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro,” Father says more for Cesare to hear than me.
    Cesare scoffs loudly. “Sforza? He’s a minor prince. I’m sure you can find a greater alliance now from your new position.”
    “I think he’ll be much help to us with his ties to Milan.” Father pauses to chew and dabs his mouth with his napkin. “I may be pope, but we’ve still far to go.”
    Cesare nods, considering this. “What is the dowry?”
    “Thirty-one thousand ducats, I talked Sforza down from fifty thousand.” He smiles in delight and stuffs his mouth full. He rests one elbow on the table, and his silk sleeve slides down his arm, exposing a childhood scar running from his wrist to his elbow.
    “Lucrezia, he will suit you well. Though he’s already a widower, I hear he’s quite handsome.”
    “I care not what he looks like, Father. I could marry a chair if it’s most helpful for our family position.” They nod happily. “That and the agreement that I’ll have a year in Rome before I have to go live with him.”
    Twelve is a very early age to marry, and Father promised that he’ll require me to stay in the Vatican one more year before the marriage is consummated.
    “A Borgia through and through, always negotiating just like I taught you.” He smiles with his slate-blue eyes