The Holy See, 1494: The Holy Throne, then the Streets of Rome, then a Brothel (NFB)
Lucrezia
Lucrezia Borgia, the Pope of Rome pro tempore, regarded her Curia with no small amount of apprehension. But her father had given her valuable advice, in confidence:
Don't show fear. They're like dogs. They can smell it.
Thus she was going to do her best to act casual, even disdainful, as she drew herself up.
Dany had helped with the plans -- what little plans there were. She had had little notice of this, but she had sent Dany off to make a few simple arrangements while she had changed into something properly Church-like.
Dany, for her part, was now wearing the black that the Pope's own priest-secretary wore within inner chambers. It was the only way Lucrezia knew of to have her friend accompany her, in here, and this was going to be too much fun to miss.
And it would be good to have an ally.
Two of the dragons had come forward to sit next to the throne; it was a brilliant idea of Dany's, to have her authority undermined with a bit of fire.
She held her friend's eyes for a moment, looking for a sign that all was well and that preparations were completed.
Daenerys
Dany smiled at her friend, hoping to alleviate her nerves. She could sense them, because she knew Lucrezia's heart nearly as well as her own, but it would take a cardinal with a very trained eye to see anything but a confident young woman, she thought.
She gave a tiny nod, pulling parchment and quill before her. She'd found the things needed -- the flour to sift, the bowls of sugar, the eggs. She herself was curious for this lesson, though she had absolute trust in Lucrezia's ability to convey their message.
And out of the corner of her eye, she watched Rhaegal and Viserion for any sign of unrest. As amusing as it would be to set some pompous cardinal aflame, it would not help them today. The threat, however, could and would and, from what she could see, did.
Lucrezia
The dragons seemed to be behaving; the threat was implicit and not explicit. Silk covering steel. She appreciated the subtlety that the imagery provoked.
She stood from the throne and clapped her hands, imperiously, and she was relieved to see that the doors swung open. Six servants carried in a table, one covered in a white cloth. They set it down quite gently before bowing, deeply, and exiting from the room.
They turned their back on her, but she was only Pope pro tempore; she would choose not to view that as disrespect.
When they had departed and the doors were shut again, she beamed at the Cardinals, who were tolerating her with varying degrees of indulgence.
"We would give the consistory a lesson," she announced, "in cookery. Or is that husbandry?"
She whipped the sheet from the table, dramatically revealing the instruments and ingredients stacked upon it.
"Baking a cake," she smiled. The Cardinals expected her to be a silly girl. She would use that to her advantage.
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci huffed. If they were not to be pursuing important church business, he wished they could instead be dismissed. Watching the Pope's bastard girl parade around, playing with cooking utensils, was distasteful on many levels.
Lucrezia
Lucrezia tied an apron around her waist, ignoring the murmur of the men around her. She had not lost control of the room; if her actions betrayed that she considered that a possibility, then she would. So she paced in front of them as easily as if she frequently gave lectures to the curia.
She reached for the sifter that was lying in the large brass flour bowl.
"Pour the flour into a sieve," she said demonstrating with a healthy scoop. "Shake, gently."
Granules of flour were now falling from the sifter in a light rain.
"The good flour emerges. The chaff remains."
She held out the sifter, filled only with husks and casings, to show the cardinals in the front row.
"Are we correct, Cardinal Versucci?"
They were intrigued. They did not suspect the direction this would take.
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci stared at the girl, as if such looks might convince her to remove the Papal ring and exit the Curia with her strange foreign queen in tow.
"I know little of cookery, my lady," he scoffed.
Lucrezia
Lucrezia lifted an eyebrow. She had not chosen Cardinal Versucci at random. He was going to be obstinate; she would address him head-on, rather than let him choose his moment to attack.
She glanced at Daenerys, as if the response to that was so banal that she could not be bothered to supply it herself. And she hoped her friend did not mind being used in this fashion.
Daenerys
"But surely," Dany said dryly, setting her quill down for the moment and fixing the man with a bored look, "you have eaten cake at some point in your life, Your Eminence."
Honestly. These men weren't even trying. She looked back over at Lucrezia, all but rolling her eyes as she ran a hand smoothly over Drogon's scales.
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci did not trust the white-haired stranger. Nor did he appreciate the pope's bastard bringing her (and her dragons) into this sacred place.
He turned away from the intrusion, only allowing a simple "Indeed."
Lucrezia
Lucrezia lightened her tone. "We would hazard that the entire consistory has been known to indulge its sweet tooth. To eat said cake."
If they imagined that her cheer was a good sign, then they were entirely mistaken. And far too naive to go against a Borgia, at that.
Cardinal Piccolomini
Cardinal Piccolomini had not yet had his lunch, and he was growing tired of this upstart girl's baking class.
"I sense a metaphor lurking?"
Lucrezia
"Indeed," Lucrezia said. "The Curia, its various branches to public works, function just as this sieve. The good flour spills down to the Cardinals, and what is left for the needy, the poor?"
Her temper was nearly controlled. Except that she still saw, in her mind, the tired and grubby orphans lying in the abandoned temple which Giulia had shown her.
And so she flipped the sifter with her wrist, upending the contents on Cardinal Piccolomini's lap.
"The chaff."
Cardinal Piccolomini
"My lady," Cardinal Piccolomini began. "Our Holy Mother Church serves the poor, remarkably well at that. But the poor will always be with us. No matter how hard the Curia works."
Lucrezia
"Remind us," Lucrezia said, raising an eyebrow. "How many palaces do you own, Your Eminence?"
Cardinal Piccolomini
The Cardinal did look a touch sheepish as he coughed.
"That is hardly the point, my lady," he said. "What wealth I may possess --"
Lucrezia
"Daenerys?" Lucrezia called, not looking away from Cardinal Piccolomini as she interrupted him. "Would you be so kind as to inform the Curia as to the state of Cardinal Piccolomini's finances?"
Daenerys
"Of course, Your Holiness," Dany said, producing the documents in question with ease. Bookkeeping was hardly a skill of hers, but it was simple enough -- and really, the errors and questions were so glaring, a child might have managed this. "Cardinal Piccolomini seems to be doing quite well -- my goodness, two estates and his very own vineyard."
She glanced over at the cardinal, flashing a smile that might have been flirtatious under any other circumstances. "Heavens be, Your Eminence, have you an interest in playing Master of Coin for my claim to the Westerosi throne? You seem to have enough accumulated wealth for quite a few side ventures."
Cardinal Piccolomini
Cardinal Piccolomini had the grace to look somewhat abashed by the revelation.
"I have never claimed to be destitute," he said.
Lucrezia
"Impressive," Lucrezia said warmly. "Thank you for your assistance in this matter, Your Majesty. And so it would seem the Curia is blessed with an abundance of cake. How delightful. One can become ill if one consumes too much cake. We would like now to help the Curia not to risk such discomfort."
Daenerys
"Your Holiness," Dany interjected, hiding a smile and trying to look quite distressed. "My sincerest apologies -- it seems we are entirely unable to make the promised cake. We are missing a most vital ingredient."
She shook her head, all but tsking. Oh, the carelessness.
Lucrezia
"Your Majesty is an invaluable asset in this cookery lesson," Lucrezia beamed. "We are humbled to have your assistance. We are, indeed, missing one crucial element."
She selected a brass pitcher, lifting it so that it gave the impression of being heavy.
"We cannot make cake without something quite vital indeed. Can any of the Cardinals imagine what that might be?"
She paced, watching the men grow uneasy, before flinging the pitcher out in such a way that it would surely douse the Cardinal Versucci with its contents. That was, if the pitcher were not bone-dry.
"Water."
Cardinal Piccolomini
Cardinal Piccolomini grimaced. If he had to be covered in chaff, why did Versucci escape a drenching?
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci did not appreciate the little trick the bastard girl had just played.
"And what metaphor might this signify, my lady?" he rumbled.
Lucrezia
"No metaphor, this time," Lucrezia allowed. "The poor lack water. There was once a temple, filled with fresh water from the Roman aqueducts. Now orphaned children sleep there, covered in dirt and filth. That presents us with two problems, does it not?"
She watched the Cardinals, all staring at her as though they were quite dim.
"We must fill the temple with water," she said, slowly, "and find a new place for the orphans to sleep."
She was feeling more like a scolding parent than a nervous pretender.
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci folded his arms. "Now see here," he said. "You are here to maintain the Curia, and on shaky ground at that. You are simply not empowered to embark on such an undertaking. You haven't the authority."
Lucrezia
Good, the question was now coming to a boil.
"Don't we?" Lucrezia asked, far too innocently. "Forgive us, Cardinal Versucci, but we were under the impression that the Holy Father himself signed a papal bull placing the Church in our hands. If only we could locate this document."
Daenerys
Dany was no longer attempting to hide her smile. She made the grandest show she could of sifting through her papers and holding up the document as though mystified by what it could be. "Surely you don't mean this very document here, Your Holiness?" she asked, eyes wide with pretended wonder. "It certainly looks to be correct!"
She shifted her gaze to Cardinal Versucci, her smile settling into a thin line, and her stare as clear and hard as glass.
Lucrezia
Lucrezia took the bull from Dany's outstretched hand. For a moment, her back was turned to the Curia, and she considered winking, or mouthing some odd comment -- just to let her dear friend know how she appreciated the help. But there wasn't time. She would convey that message later.
She carried the document triumphantly to Cardinal Versucci, still doing her best to appear innocent.
"Yes, that does indeed appear to be the Holy Father's signature," she said. "And our name, as the pro tempore he has chosen, since his Vice-Chancellor rides north with him. There is the seal from his ring -- we could match it, if you like, to the papal ring itself, since he has been so generous as to leave that upon our finger."
She held out her hand imperiously. Every man in this room longed for that ring; to wear it, and to sit upon St. Peter's throne.
Moreover, there was only one acceptable response when the papal ring was presented to one. Declining would show disrespect to the ring. Accepting would imply legitimacy to its placement on her hand.
Cardinal Versucci
Cardinal Versucci glared, knowing full well the predicament before him. He could not countenance pressing his lips to the ring upon her finger; nor could he snub that sacred and holy object by refusing.
The silence grew tenser each moment. All eyes were upon him.
And thus, it was that Cardinal Versucci quite reluctantly bent his head and kissed the papal ring.
That damned girl was too Borgia for her own good. Or to be precise, anyone else's.
Lucrezia
There were times it was disadvantageous to gloat; this was not one of them. She granted Cardinal Versucci her widest smile.
"We thank you, Cardinal Versucci," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Does anyone else wish to discuss the matter of our authority? We did not know the Curia were in the habit of dismissing papal bulls."
The Cardinals were now fidgeting in their seats. She let them squirm long enough to see if any would risk speaking.
"That may, of course, be why the Holy Father did not trust any of you to serve as surrogate," she continued. "If there is this strong tendency towards insubordination."
The College of Cardinals
The insult stung, but none of the Cardinals could dispute it. The Pope had taken the unorthodox measure of placing his daughter in charge because he did not trust the shifting alliances against him; there was not a one that the Holy Father could believe implicitly would return the throne to him unharmed.
Lucrezia
"Very well," Lucrezia said. "We need sufficient funds to restore the water to the bath-house which was once the Temple Sulis Minerva. And we need a new home for those orphans. If any Cardinal should wish to donate a spare palace, we would quite happily accept."
The silence was unsurprising.
"No?" she asked. "Then we shall need sufficient funds to buy a suitable location. Let us discuss which of you will contribute in what amounts."
Cardinal Piccolomini
Cardinal Piccolomini cleared his throat. He was going to approach the matter carefully this time.
"I intend no disrespect, my lady," he said. "But are you quite certain that your father would approve of this course of action?"
Lucrezia
"A very good question," Lucrezia acknowledged. "The Holy Father does not know of our actions here today. He did, however, place us in charge, and inform us that we were given free reign to pursue what avenues we felt best. Do you imagine, Cardinal Piccolomini, that upon his return, the Holy Father will side with you against me?"
She was Alexander's daughter. He believed the sun shone only to light her hair. And he was yet another Cardinal that the Holy Father did not trust.
Cardinal Piccolomini
If Borgia were a decent man, he might. But then, a decent man would not have placed the papal ring upon the hand of a teenage girl.
"No, my lady."
Lucrezia
"We agree," Lucrezia smiled. "So let us discuss how we are to fund our orphanage. Who shall be the first to offer funds?"
They were grudging in their acceptance of her, but too cowed to move openly. Lucrezia expected that most of them would pledge assets and bide their time, waiting for the Holy Father's return. At which point they would quietly fail to live up to the agreement.
She would need a quite different whip then, to spur the Cardinals into action. How very fortunate that she planned to have one.
Vannozza
Vannozza dei Cattanei had not expected to accompany a Pope to a brothel today. Her daughter was only Pope pro tempore, but considering that their group now numbered a foreign queen, the Pope's mistress, the temporary Pope, and herself, a former courtesan, they were certainly an odd mix. And a powerful one.
"Tell me more of this convent," she asked. They might as well have conversation as they walked. "Your Majesty, did you find the company to your liking?"
Her daughter had not spent her months away cloistered and praying. Vannozza would know where she had been. Perhaps she could pull the truth from the other girl.
She looked a touch wild to be a queen. Perhaps that was the nature, in their lands, or perhaps that had been a convenient lie.
Daenerys
This was at least easier now that Dany understood what a convent was. She did regret lying to Vannozza, though; she quite liked her friends' mother. "I confess, if I may be so impertinent," she said, offering a half smile, "that I do not think that such a life is my calling. I prefer unpredictable days and spending my time out of doors. We have been blessed with such beauty and spontaneity in our earthly lives. It seems a pity to cloister ourselves away."
She paused, hoping that would work -- she felt it to be true, so that did help -- and added, "Of course, had I not spent those months there, I would have never met Lucrezia, and I would not trade your daughter's friendship for all the sunny days in a lifetime."
Vannozza
Vannozza laughed, not unkindly. "Your tongue is as silver as your hair, my dear," she said. "It will be a useful skill for one in your occupation."
Whatever that occupation might be.
She didn't mean that disparagingly. She was a former courtesan, after all.
"I do not suppose I can induce either of you to drop this tale?" she asked. "You can't fear that I'll tell your father."
Vannozza loved secrets.
Daenerys
The temptation to share was there, and powerful, but.... "What tale, my lady?" Dany asked, widening her eyes innocently.
She was not an accomplished liar, particularly considering the standards of Rome. But it was not her confession to make.
Lucrezia
Lucrezia looked at her mother for a long moment, and at Daenerys again. She even darted a quick glance at Giulia. But the Pope's mistress was quite discreet, indeed. All here were ones she trusted.
"Perhaps there are other fears," Lucrezia said, carefully. She did not imagine her mother to be easily scandalized; she had once been a courtesan, and was not ashamed of her past. Nor should she be.
And so she made a decision. "Mama," she said. "What if I said that I ... left home to become a scholar?"
Perhaps Vannozza would think that as unlikely as her entering a nunnery. Except ... a nunnery was a place of quiet and reflection. Not a place to expand and grow.
She was still holding her breath, all the same.
Vannozza
"A scholar?" Vannozza considered her daughter carefully, one eyebrow lifting the barest amount. She had considered a dozen other possibilities -- another boy, or even a trade, or simply the sweetest taste of freedom on her daughter's tongue. And in a way, that was what school would be.
"I would be curious as to the specifics of your schooling," she said after a moment, cocking her head. "Have you decided to devote your life to keeping your nose firmly in books, my love? It is far too lovely a nose for that, I think."
Lucrezia
Lucrezia was uncertain how much to share with her mother -- the school being on a new continent in the future beggared belief. But her response was reassuring.
"Cesare found the place," she said, a flush touching her cheeks. "A school which accepted women. The classes are unorthodox. I have studied ethics, and basic strategy for surviving life at court. I have improved my study of mythology, and discussed the nature of love. I have made a great many friends there, Dany the most beloved among them."
Daenerys
Dany ducked her head, hiding her own blush. "I'm sorry for the deceit, my lady," she offered quietly. "It was not my story to tell."
Vannozza
"You have much to learn yet of secrets if you feel you must apologize for them, Your Majesty," Vannozza said lightly to Dany, before looking back to Lucrezia. "I knew your brother had had a hand in your departure, Lucrezia, but he certainly wouldn't tell tales of your whereabouts, either."
She considered her daughter for a moment before reaching out to touch her shoulder. "It sounds like a wonderful place, and filled to the very brim with skills that will aid you not only in navigating Rome, but wherever life may take you. I only wish I'd known of it sooner." She glanced at Dany again, and added, "Does this mysterious school accept only young ladies of breeding? It's a wonder it's so well-hidden."
Lucrezia
Lucrezia worried her lower lip between her teeth. "If I tried to explain where the school was, you would think me mad," she said. "It is farther away than Daenerys's lands, and those are far indeed. And yet I can return quite easily, within the hour should I choose. There are ... methods of travel which are not yet known; this school is wrapped inside one. It is a kind of sorcery."
She would not explain about the future. That was too strange by half. But she could start here.
Vannozza
"Are you in any danger?" Vannozza asked, looking critically at both girls. "This sorcery does you no harm, does it?"
Lucrezia
"Not so far as one can tell," Lucrezia said. "The school is quite unusual, but more eccentric than dangerous. One meets rather interesting people with unorthodox worldviews and ... I believe all of it shall help me, in Rome. I wished for freedom, and Cesare granted it to me."
Somewhere that she could be Lucrezia, not simply the Pope's daughter.
"I was called home to remarry. I ... shall miss it."
More than she had let herself think about.
Vannozza
Vannozza wished, fervently, that she could tell her daughter that she could return to school without remarriage -- but it wasn't her decision any more than it was Lucrezia's.
Instead, she reached for her arm. "Tell me of your classes," she insisted, smiling. "And of any young men you might have entertained there. Surely there was a veritable bevy waiting at your feet."
It would do her good to see Lucrezia smile more.
Daenerys
Dany had spent a year hearing the tales of pleasure houses from Doreah, and yet she had never before entered one. It wasn't what she expected -- her handmaid's tales had been of rooms wafting with incense and laughter, and sensual women draped in only barest silk, drawing men undone only with their eyes.
Here, there were beds bunked against dirty walls, and a lingering smell of sex -- of life, in its basest form. The women were not exotic beauties beckoning anyone closer with a bat of their lashes, but girls her own age -- possibly even younger -- dressed in what would sell their wares the quickest and easiest.
She understood, immediately, why they were here. She had known courtesans and mistresses in her time, and understood the trade well, thanks to Doreah. But this was beyond the desire to sell one's body and well into the need -- and as she caught the eye of a decrepit, filthy man lying with a girl no older than thirteen, the daydreams of lovely young things entertaining wealthy men with their giggles vanished.
"Oh," was all she said, quietly. It was all she could say, now. She daren't do more than breathe that one syllable, because the very last thing she wanted was to have any of the women sense pity or disgust from her. It was neither, but a powerful, painful empathy.
Lucrezia
Lucrezia had never entered a brothel before, but she had seen many of these girls plying their trade through the marketplace. Perhaps they were not these exact girls, but in a way, they were all the same -- a touch too thin, a little too garishly dressed, and their eyes held the same flatness.
She reached over to place a hand on Dany's shoulder, wondering if this struck a painful chord for her friend. Or if, like herself, she was mourning the world that had created this situation.
"One would think Cardinals could afford better accomodations," she said, hoping her tone was light.
Giulia
"And yet," Giulia said, lifting a stocking in her hands and displaying it to the other three. It was quite clearly part of a Cardinal's ensemble. "Here they lie, amidst filth."
The Cardinals, with all their palaces, were too cheap to spend more than a handful of coins on their carnal pleasures. So they gave coins to girls who starved. There was little point in pitying it; this was what was. It fell to them to change it.
Vannozza
Vannozza's stomach did not turn at the scenario around them, but only because it was as she had expected. She had once used her charms to survive, but she had been a courtesan, not a common streetwalker. She remained very aware of how easily one might fall from the first category to the second; she had attached herself to powerful men and used them to raise her stature. Some were not so lucky, or so wise.
"Perhaps the Cardinals bring filth where they go," she observed.
No one was paying them much mind; well-dressed women were not potential customers, nor were they potential threats, and thus could be ignored until they went away. And so she took it upon herself to approach one of the girls who was walking past.
"We'd like to speak with your madam," she said.
The girl was uncertain, but decided it was easier to comply. She led them back a dank hallway into what could charitably considered an office, and Vannozza sat on a questionable-looking chair.
Now things ought to get interesting.
Madam
The woman who entered the office was garishly dressed, as much so as her young charges. She looked to be Vannozza's age, but could easily be younger, if time had done hard by her. She tended towards voluptuousness, and her hair was a frizzy mop upon the top of her head.
She didn't pretend towards any social niceties; she was a madam, and they were here to speak with her. Formalities were a waste of time.
"We don't often get ladies here," she said. "Who are you?"
Lucrezia
"The Committee for the Betterment of the Lives of the Ladies of the Roman Night," Lucrezia recited. She was standing behind her mother's chair, with one hand resting on its back. The committee's name had been her idea. "Our organization has the full authority and blessing of the Pope of Rome."
Conveniently, she was the acting Pope, so she could say that with certainty.
Daenerys
"We wish to help," Dany offered, quietly. She had a suspicion that the name, lovely though it was, might need a touch of translation for this woman -- she herself often needed a moment to sift through formal titles and edicts, and she was used to it. "You, and the women in your employ, my lady."
Madam
"I'm no lady," the woman replied, waving the thought away with her hand. "And nothing's free in Rome. What's the price of this help?"
Giulia
"The most powerful coin of all," Giulia said, straightening her shoulders. "Information."
Vannozza
"About your clientele," Vannozza said, watching the woman quietly. She knew as well as anyone that sharing the secrets offered at such an establishment was one of the deepest breaches of...professionalism, but circumstances were dire. "It will not come to reflect on you, I assure you."
Lucrezia
"We would ask for the names and dates of the visits of Cardinals," Lucrezia said, hoping to sound more authoritative than she felt. "Information on which may have crossed the bounds of propriety. And in exchange, we will restore this establishment to a state of absolute health, and cleanliness."
It was elegant. It meant using money designated for the poor to both help the poor -- these girls certainly qualified -- and to get information which would help to divert the flow of future funds.
She had never tried blackmailing a brace of Cardinals before. This ought to be interesting.
Madam
It was dangerous, to get drawn into political matters. She wasn't stupid: somehow, this was about the Borgia Pope knocking his Cardinals down a few pegs.
On the other hand, money was money. It was hard to come by in Rome.
"Well, then," the madam said, dropping herself into the chair behind her desk. "Let's talk terms."
(OOC: post 2! Preplayed with the superlovely unburnt_queen, who also picked up some NPC duties for this one, and thanks to whateverknight for coding like a boss. Note: this actually happened, historically: Alexander VI / Rodrigo Borgia once left his daughter on his Papal throne as his surrogate. Of course, the historical Lucrezia didn't use that power to start blackmailing Cardinals, but hey, why not? NFB, NFI, but OOC is love.)