[ she watches him out of the corner of her eye when she asks one of the girls to help her dress, to pull up the silk blue gown and tie the lacing. it's not like him to be still, not to go about and seek some mischief but she thinks he must be waiting for someone to step out of the showers and doesn't think twice of it.
it's only a while after she left that she stops, frowns and thinks about the what if. there is always the little thought at the back of her head, the need to check and see faces and affirm that she had not lost them. cesare, robb, gwen, sirius himself. she stands and thinks and then, without so much as a word, she turns and returns to the place she had left earlier today.
she arrives in time to hear the clash of fist and metal and she doesn't jump nor looks startled. she moves - a display of angry violence is something she had seen and knows well, being a borgia. there would be a day when she herself will grow to do the same but it is not today
today she is still more lucrezia than a borgia. she moves over and gently (her fingers are warm) takes the hand that delivered the blow and presses her lips, slow and intentional, to the knuckles.
her brother would say lucrezia is so blinded by the beauty of the sun that she steps too close to it at times but she would shake her head and smile and say she has learned from Icarus' misfortunes.
lockers!
it's only a while after she left that she stops, frowns and thinks about the what if. there is always the little thought at the back of her head, the need to check and see faces and affirm that she had not lost them. cesare, robb, gwen, sirius himself. she stands and thinks and then, without so much as a word, she turns and returns to the place she had left earlier today.
she arrives in time to hear the clash of fist and metal and she doesn't jump nor looks startled. she moves - a display of angry violence is something she had seen and knows well, being a borgia. there would be a day when she herself will grow to do the same but it is not today
today she is still more lucrezia than a borgia. she moves over and gently (her fingers are warm) takes the hand that delivered the blow and presses her lips, slow and intentional, to the knuckles.
her brother would say lucrezia is so blinded by the beauty of the sun that she steps too close to it at times but she would shake her head and smile and say she has learned from Icarus' misfortunes.
he will not hit her. ]