WHO: Cesare Borgia and Mary Tudor WHEN: Saturday evening WHERE: The Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady the Virgin Mary WHAT: Praying for absolution and finding a Princess instead RATING: TBD - Probably low but warnings for possible talk of incest and murder STATUS: Closed | In Progress
This was punishment; of that, Cesare was sure. He had known, deep in his heart, that his soul had been forfeited long ago. He hadn't expected the punishment to be this soon or this sudden, however. Or so strange. He had envisioned Hell as a dark place, full of pain and eternal torment for his myriad sins. This was place, on the other hand, was comfortable and clean, peaceful and bright. It was Hell, however. Cesare knew it must be Hell for his Lucrezia was not here and any world without her was indeed Hellish. What greater torment could God punish him with than separation from his sister, his love, and at such a time as this? Alfonso's body could hardly be cold and now he was in this strange Hell and Lucrezia was left alone. That was the last thing he'd wanted, the last thing he'd imagined at the start of this sordid business, and he would do anything to turn back time and return to the simpler days, before marriage, before Papacy, when he and his sister were young and innocent and happy. There was no innocence left in either of them now.
Cesare had wandered aimlessly since waking up in the bright, foreign house. He hadn't wanted to stay there, in the bed that was not his, in the house he did not recognise, in the street that was nothing like any street he had ever seen before. They said that all roads led to Rome, but that road had not. It had led to another road that had looked much the same as the one before, neither of which had looked at all similar to any road one might find in Rome. It disconcerted him and so he had wandered and wandered. He had walked through the setting of the sun and into the twilight.
He had walked until, in front of him, he had come across a building which had sparked some sense of familiarity in him. The sign outside seemed to shine luminous in the evening dusk, with letters silhouetted against the brightness spelling out words in a language that Cesare recognised as English. "The Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady the Virgin Mary," he murmured to himself, sounding out the words, his tongue adjusting to the foreign language. It had been a long time since he'd been required to speak English but he could remember enough of the language to understand that this was a place of God, of the Roman Catholic order, and the only place in this Hell that he might be able to beg for solace.
Cesare found the large double doors only resting closed and they swung open easily when he pushed. The lighting was dim inside the church and, immediately, Cesare felt more at home. Candles burnt on candelabrum to either side of the nave, giving off a soft glow which was complimented by sconces on the walls and ceilings. Cesare could not see the fire with which these latter burned but he had other things on his mind at that moment.
His heart pounding heavily in his chest, the blood of his sister's husband smeared on his hands and face from where he had held and kissed Lucrezia, Cesare stumbled his way forward, down a centre aisle in the many rows of chairs that filled the church, until he reached the steps leading to a clothed alter, adorned with a metal cross which glittered in the dim light. His arms and legs felt as though they were made of lead and, almost without meaning to, he fell to his knees on the steps, his head falling back a little, his eyes still fixed on the cross.
"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritūs Sancti," he growled, his hand automatically raising to cross himself before it fell back to his side. "Father," he choked, having slipped into his native tongue of Italian. Latin was the language of the church but this was not between him and the church. The church had little bearing over this matter, he would hazard. No; now he was talking directly to God, and Cesare thought that God would probably understand him no matter which earthly language he spoke in.
"Father, I have sinned. You know I have sinned. The whole world knows I have sinned and now I am to be punished for those sins. And that is just. Your judgement is just. I accept my punishment but, please Father, take my torment as penance for us both. The sins have been mine and I will gladly pay for them. Please do not punish her too. She has already suffered enough, at the hands of others and by myself. Her greatest sin was to love which is hardly a sin at all. Let me wipe clean her soul with my servitude and perhaps, in time, you will see fit to reunite us again in Heaven, when I have served my time at your mercy. Father..." Cesare trailed off, his voice growing hoarse and thick. "Holy Father, save my sister's soul. Take mine as payment, as black as it is. It is, at least, a soul that knows love." His head fell forward, his eyes fluttering shut. He knew he had little to bargain with - what was his soul worth now? - but he still prayed that God would be forgiving.