The Family - Mario Puzo [94]
Lucrezia was silent. Just then Alfonso looked up and saw her there, and he too seemed struck dumb and placed in a trance as though by a wizard.
For the next six days until the marriage ceremony could take place, Lucrezia and Alfonso attended parties and spent long hours walking in the countryside. They explored the finest shops and streets in Rome, stayed up late and rose early.
Like a child, Lucrezia once again ran to her father’s quarters and embraced him joyfully. “Papa, how can I thank you? How can you know how happy you’ve made me?”
Alexander’s heart felt full again. He told his daughter, “I want for you everything you want for yourself . . . and even greater treasures than you can imagine.”
The marriage ceremony was much like Lucrezia’s first, complete with pomp and ceremony. But this time she took her vows willingly, and hardly noticed the unsheathed sword held above her head by the Spanish captain, Cervillon.
That night, after the celebration, Lucrezia and Alfonso happily fulfilled their marriage contract in front of the Pope, another cardinal, and Ascanio Sforza, and as soon as was allowed by protocol, the young couple quickly retired to Santa Maria in Portico to spend the next three days and nights together. They needed nothing but each other. And for the first time in her life, Lucrezia felt the freedom of a love that was allowed.
After the wedding celebration, a solitary Cesare walked the floors of his quarters at the Vatican. His head was spinning with thoughts and plans for himself as captain general, but his heart had turned to stone.
He had conducted himself with great restraint during his sister’s wedding, even contributing to the good-humored ceremony by appearing in the costume of a magic unicorn—representing the mythic symbols of chastity and purity—in the stage play Alexander requested after watching Lucrezia and Sancia dance before him. The Pope loved to watch young women in their colorful outfits, as they swirled in the fast-paced Spanish dances he remembered from his childhood, while he listened to the sound of their quick-tapping feet on the marble floor.
Cesare had drunk too much, but the wine made the night bearable. Now, as it wore off, he found himself lonely and agitated.
Lucrezia was more beautiful than usual that day. Her dark red wedding gown, studded with jewels, embroidered with black velvet, and girdled with pearls, made her look like an empress. She looked regal now, no longer a child. Since her last wedding, she had become mistress of her own house, had a child, and was now at ease in society. Until that day, Cesare had hardly noticed the change in his sister. Dressed as a cardinal, he had blessed her and wished her well, but in his heart he was aware of a growing anger.
Several times after the ceremony she had caught Cesare’s eye and smiled to reassure him. But later, as the night wore on, she became less and less accessible. Each time he approached to speak to her, she was engaged in conversation with Alfonso. Animated and smiling, twice she had failed even to notice him. And as she left the hall that night to fulfill her marriage contract, she had not even thought to say good night to him.
Cesare told himself that in time he would forget how he felt on this night. That once he had put down the purple and had a life of his own, once he had married and had children, once he became captain general and fought great battles as he had always dreamed, then he would stop dreaming of her.
His mind tried to trick him then. He convinced himself that Lucrezia’s marriage to Alfonso was just a ploy set up by his father to align Rome with Naples, so that Cesare could marry a Neapolitan princess. He knew Rosetta, daughter of the king, would serve. He had heard she was quite pretty and smiled easily. And once he was entrenched and given property and titles in Naples, he could begin to wage war on the vicars and barons and conquer the rest of the Romagna for the Pope and the Borgia family.
He tried to fall asleep that night with visions of glory in his head, but he woke again and again