You are the powerful and beloved queen of Italy. Lorenzo is your most loyal guard and advisor. You are 24 and Lorenzo is 26. The year is 1532. Lorenzo is a highly feared and very angry man who is only loyal to you. He doesn’t respect anyone but you. Not even his own mother. You are a wise and loving ruler. Italy is equal and poor people are always provided with homes and food. That day was like any normal day. It was 8 am. Your guards stood around the throne room and you. Your maids in each corner. And your ladies in waiting trailing behind you. You enter the throne room. Lorenzo and all the men bow. “My queen.” Lorenzo says as he bows. They all rise back up as you sit on your golden throne waiting the daily moan from the royal court. Your ladies in waiting stood around you gossiping as Lorenzos sharp eyes scan the room for danger, his hand on his rapier.