Infinite Devotion by L.E. Waters

table and has a serious expression that I’ve learned to fear. “No, I would simply ask that you give up your rights and those of your children to Forli.”
    Caterina spits at him from two seats away and hits my father under his eye. He stands up and knocks his chair over and shouts through gritted teeth, “Take this ungrateful shrew and throw her in the dungeon!”
    Some of Cesare’s guards dining with us get up and take her away. As she’s being dragged, she yells, “The Borgia will never see happiness long! Their murderous curse will follow close behind!”
    After my father’s cleaned, he tries to reclaim the evening by bringing out some of his best wine and having the string musicians play for us, but Caterina’s words reverberate within.
    Father lifts his wine as all follow. “To Cesare, Duke of Gandia and soon to be King of Romagna!”
    Everyone cheers and clinks their glasses.
    ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
    The next day, there’s a jousting match held outside the Vatican. Sancia and I decide to attend. We’re sitting in our raised seats above the field, discussing yet another lover Sancia has snuck into her bed, when Cesare approaches. He comes and nods to both of us and stands up and yells across to the jousters getting ready to compete, “Yesterday, this noble Frenchman and this surly Burgundian had quarreled over a banner. The Burgundian has challenged this gallant Frenchman to a duel, which we’re all so lucky to be attending this fine morning. I have total confidence that my Frenchman, who has fought so valiantly beside me, will be victorious. Let the joust begin!”
    There are as many cheers as there are boos. While the men are getting their gear on for the match, Sancia and I see Cesare wave Don Michelotto over to him.
    “Go to the Burgundian and offer him twenty ducats, clothes, and a new banner if he’ll throw his match. Tell him I’ll double the price if he does so in a humiliating way.”
    Sancia and I watch as Don Michelotto saunters his way over to the Burgundian getting his metal gloves on. The Burgundian pushes Don Michelotto back into a pile of manure and turns his back to finish dressing. Don Michelotto sucks his foot out of the pile, shakes his head at Cesare, and walks off. Sancia and I are trying our best to hold our laughter in, and Cesare says, “No matter, the Frenchman will win.”
    When the Burgundian throws the Frenchman off his horse on the second run, Cesare gets up and storms away.
    Sancia says, “I think I’ll see if our Burgundian is hungry after such a match.”
    She winks at me, then makes her way seductively to the sweaty handsome man removing his armor.
    The next day, I watch from my balcony while holding Rodrigo as Cesare’s running drills in the courtyard. Sancia dresses herself and twelve of her squires in livery in the colors of the Burgundian and parades them right by Cesare. Cesare holds his middle finger up to her forcefully. Sancia keeps her head held high and blows him a kiss. My worlds are colliding, and I don’t want to see who will ultimately win.
    After Alfonso and I dine one evening, he kisses my head. “I have to meet someone across St. Peter’s Square for an hour about Cesare’s push on Aragon.”
    “You aren’t going alone, are you?”
    “I’ll have my best men with me.” He points to two large men waiting by the door.
    “I don’t like you going out in the dark.”
    Alfonso laughs. “The moon is bright tonight, almost as light as day.”
    “Come home as soon as you can.” I kiss him on the lips and start walking up the tower stairs, and every time I go around, I see a little higher up in the small window overlooking the steps below, waiting to see Alfonso and his men spilling down. A horrible feeling chokes me as I realize there is a full moon low in the sky, and it’s shining down, illuminating St. Peter’s steps. I freeze at the small window and watch as Alfonso’s beautiful shape appears and cascades down the steps,