[ closed ] put this one to rest

[cesar]

Date & Time: Aug. 10
Location: Unit 303
Characters: Cesare Borgia, Elizabeth Tudor, open to flatmates!
Summary: Cesare brings home the wine
Warnings: It's a Borgia and a Tudor, go figure (I mean N/A, for now)

The least Cesare could do was make allies of the people he has been assigned to live with. He has mostly kept to himself, slipping into his room in the early hours of the morning from his wanderings about the city, only to sleep until late and then repeat the routine. There is much to be discovered, but he has almost forgotten this one matter. The matter of flatmates.

Strange that he would find himself sharing such small quarters with others, a woman no less, but he knows to keep himself as quiet as possible, conducting himself with the care a shadow might take. What would Micheletto do?

There were slim pickings for good wine but he did his best, splurging much of his monthly allowance on a bottle cultivated in what was once Europa. He can dream that it was Spain. So with that humble gift in hand, he takes to knocking on each door and asking if they would share it with him, also a strange exercise when he would have an page boy managing his audiences for him. He comes to the woman's door last and knocks gently, for it seems necessary to conduct himself more properly because she is here to share his space, something that would be unthinkable for any honorable woman of his time.

There may yet be value in managing his reputation.

 

Comments

[onemistress]

As much Elizabeth had been told her pearls were a weapon, she didn't understand completely how, so instead she'd been using them for trade. Though she was wary of doing so, mostly she was making do with the stipend they paid her here. But material had cost more, and she'd been forced to.

"Perhaps you have some other skill then? Or perhaps we need guiding in prayer." She took up her glass of wine, sipping it slowly. "Though I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you. I told them I was a lady in waiting and they thought me as good as royalty. Most people here know not the difference." She snorted, it amused her still, but in answer to his she nodded. "Yes, I serve the Queen of England, Elizabeth of York." The lie was smooth now, she was learning to say it with such practised ease.

He wasn't the only one keeping secrets after all.

[cesar]

He lets his gaze linger on her, seeing no impropriety in doing so, before moving to pour the wine for both of them. Half full for now. He takes both glasses and offers her one. What use are skills so long as he can still pour wine and serve it to pretty ladies? He does not answer her question, leaning back to swirl his glass absently instead.

"I have heard that the Lady Margaret Beaufort bears great influence." Greater than even the queen she serves, perhaps even the king, but he sees little need to say that.

[onemistress]

She takes it with a grateful look, a smile even. She's missed wine, and she's only found a few people that seem to even have it. Granted it tastes different to what she is used to, but it's still wine. She could be content to sit and drink it with him in conversation.

It reminded her of home, almost. Though that was a far too private thought.

"The Duchess of Richmond? Aye, she does." Another woman she only knew through stories, but she'd been a mother to a dynasty and it was hard not to know of her. "She and my mistress do not always get along, though Her Majesty was loyal to the King, even in the face of deceivers that would cause even more strife." It was easy to talk of these things like it didn't matter. After all, the entire court was dead and the rulers of this land long turned to ash.

[cesar]

"Courtiers always seek to cause strife. It is only in chaos that they can wrangle for power," which is precisely why Italy is perfect, ripe for the taking. Nations in peace hold little interest to him. It is in times of struggle that great things are made and found.

Still his smile is pleasant when he holds up his glass for a toast. "Shall we toast to... chance meetings? Or peace?"

[onemistress]

Elizabeth looked at his glass then back to his eyes. Her head tilted and she smiled at him. It was not beaming smile, because what he spoke on was too close for comfort.

But her glass tapped against his and the that high sound of glass hitting glass softly echoed a moment. "To chance meetings. For there is no peace here." They were at war and none would take that more seriously than she would.

[cesar]

That is a good answer and he smiles a little when he takes a sip, a small one to start. There lies value in remaining the most sober in a room, in any company, even if he holds his liquor well.

"I heard England has much rain but this--" he gestures vaguely to the general direction of the window. The weather is particularly dreary today and the skies are as dark as if day decided not to come at all. "Has it always been thus?"

[onemistress]

She looked out the window, staring at the sky that only ever promised more water to fall. This place didn't feel like home no matter how many times she told herself it was.

"No." Elizabeth shook her head, turning back to him with a sad smile. "She did rain often though, there can be denying that. But she had as many warm summer days as she had cool winter nights." It was easy to speak at length on the country she loved so once. "Her palaces stood proud, even after the wars, and the fields were vast and green. The King's forest was bursting with life, and the hunts were always prosperous." She crossed her legs under her skirts, tapping her foot as she thought on those days now so utterly gone. "You should of seen her, Your Eminence, a young man such as yourself would have loved it."

[cesar]

Cesare leans back against the sofa, stretching his arm beside him, seeing little need to sit up straight as he figures courtiers like her are accustomed to. The Holy Father can lounge and even doze on the Chair of St. Peter precisely because he is Pope. The rest of them must abide by proprieties and kiss his feet.

"My father is fond of hunting," the implication being that he isn't. There was always more important things to do, matters more pertinent to his family's safety. "But if you would accompany me, we may yet procure decent steeds for ourselves."

[onemistress]

That had her complete and utter attention, beaming at him in a rather undignified manner almost. Too open, almost too trusting. But it was without a doubt the best news she'd had since arriving here.

"Truly, sir? I do not always take after the hunt myself, as I am but a woman -- but riding is one of my greatest pleasures." She leaned forward just that little bit, eager to here such a plan. "But I do not know where you would find such a thing, as I am told all the animals of the land died here a long time ago." Another drink of wine, followed, and her mind went to more practical matters. "The feeding and keeping of the horse would cost greatly still I think, so such things would have to be organized, as I have yet to see much in the way of stables."

[cesar]

Her enthusiasm brings a smile to his face, amused. It is the pure and innocent that he is fond of, such things that he cannot have for himself for he must be the wall behind which the few things he loves should hide against the world's corruption.

"Finding a horse here would be nothing short of miraculous." He takes another sip of his wine before setting the glass down, leaning forward with his elbows resting against his knees. "But, I learned that we may yet be sent to other places, the past, where they might yet live. We could take a little time to go riding then."

[onemistress]

"I suppose it would be rather impossible to keep horses here, all things considered." And she did her best not to be too put out with that notion.

"But that seems a wonderful alternative, though I cannot say for sure the missions they send us are ever so leisurely." Her head tilted to the side, nibbling on the tip of her finger. "It would be wonderful though, would it not?" Elizabeth could see him upon a black stallion. Black like his clothes, he did seem to favor the colour.

[cesar]

Cesare shrugs. "If we complete the missions quickly, then we would have time to dawdle."

Speed and secrecy are his greatest weapons and he means to use the very same ones to complete tasks assigned to him here. He would not like to disappoint even those who would seek to enslave him. "Do you not trust that you can, my lady?"

[onemistress]

"Hm?" She paused in sipping her glass again, watching him over the rim a moment more.

"Nothing like that -- it is only I trust in very little other than what lies before me and the task at hand. So I cannot in truth make comment." Another sip and she settled it in her lap comfortably again. "Nor do I think counting on things before you are able to plan for them is very wise. Even if I should dearly like to dream as much as the next woman for better things than I know to expect." She propped her arm up against the back of the sofa, turning to face him more fully, stiff formality all but forgotten in the comfort of privacy. "But pinning things upon such hopes of indulgence? Seems only to beget misery."

[cesar]

"You are calling me unwise then?"

A jest, noting the smirk on his face, but that does nothing to lessen the intention behind his words. Of course she means thus. But he and his family are gamblers by nature, which made them so formidable to the Italians, and if the reward justifies the risk then he will take his chances.

"So you would content yourself with whatever the Initiative serves you."

[onemistress]

She looked him over in a rather pointed way, as if examining him for a part that could be considered unwise. As if it were a witches mark to be so easily examined. "No, perhaps not." She did her best to keep her face straight, though her smile threatened to break her mask. "But I think you may be incurably bold. Which I can find no fault in myself."

But at his slightly more serious question she shook her head. "Would any man be content with this?" She's not inclined to speak openly so much, it only seemed to get her in trouble here, almost as much as England. Besides who knew what was listening? Who even knew who he worked for, come to think of it. Cardinals tended to be no friend of hers.

[cesar]

Incurably bold. He decides he can live with that assessment, smirking before taking a generous sip of his wine.

"Many men have made themselves content with far less." Men for whom he holds no respect for. Even poor farmers may strive harder than the foolish lords of the Romagna and he holds the former in far higher regard. Their striving is something he can more easily relate to. "But you are no man, my lady."

[onemistress]

It fits him perfectly, as far as this conversation went and what little she knew of him thus far.

"They have, and no, I am not." Something she could never forget. That prompted another drink, and a deeper one at that. "But it gives me a disposition used to weathering such things in silence, as a woman must." A diplomatic answer -- the answer expect that she's learned to say, even if its bitter to speak and not even the wine dulls that sting.

[cesar]

Cesare can think of so few women around him who would be content with silence. Even his mother, he knows, has ways of making the Pope bend to her will. He doubts Victoria is as meek as that.

"But a woman's ways are different to that of men. You may seem silent, but..."

[onemistress]

"... but I know how to keep my secrets. Which is a great deal easier when the world thinks you have no secrets to keep."

She lent back, and quite probably too bold of her in return, but he hardly seemed to mind. But she didn't quite meet his eye after that, opting to take another drink.