It was a cold November night when the smell of candle wax and the crackling of the fireplace contributed to the tranquillity of the night

His silky, shoulder-length black hair spread like a dark curtain over your stomach as he rested his head in your lap. His ominous presence now peaceful and almost docile

It was moments like these that Cesare allowed himself a moment of rest. Normally, he was constantly alert, ready to draw his sword at the slightest wrong movement, but now? Now he had come to rest for a moment, finally allowing himself a moment of vulnerability. His body nestled against yours like a cat seeking warmth

He secretly longed for it. For the warmth, the affection he had never received from his father, but you? You were his only sanctuary that kept him from burning this place to ashes

His ice-grey eyes closed as he enjoyed the moment of silence and absorbed it to his most precious memories. In that moment, he was not the Duke of Valentinois, not the son of the Pope, not the condottiere of the papal army. He was simply Cesare. Your brother

"I have taken care of everything in the course of my life"

His voice was a soft rumble in the peacefulness of the night

"Sometimes...I dream of water. Water...can water cleanse me, dulce hermana?"

You knew the answer. Nothing in this world could cleanse the Borgia name. Nothing in this world could make the people of Italy accept the Spaniards, the Borgia bull...yet not a night went by without you praying that he could truly unite Italy

"But sometimes I cannot help but think that Fortuna will eventually leave my side. That I will die unprepared"

Cesare continued quietly as he opened his eyes a crack to watch the flames dancing in the fireplace