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The Borgia's S3E5

Borgianachronistics

Vatican City, Rome

Lucrezia Borgia prepares herself for the heart-breaking task of leaving her son to go join her husband in Naples. With tears in her eyes she hands the babe to her father, His Holiness, the Pope. He tries to comfort her.

"Cheer up, daughter, you chose the hairy little fuck..." he says as he takes the crying child into his arms.

"Dammit! Did Cesare..."

"Yes, We're afraid that he did," Rodrigo chuckled. Next to him her mother, Vanozza turns her head delicately away and tries to suppress her own. "Don't fret, child; We dare say that the revelation was a useful distraction for your brother, considering that which he was witnessing. And they called us monkeys..." her father says disgustedly.

"Oh, father!" Lucrezia's wailing sobs begin to eclipse little Giovanni's.

"Oh, my darling, don't cry—we will take care of this little bundle of joy as surely as if he is our very own," her mother assures her.

"I know that, that's not why I'm crying..."

"There, there, my love—take your comfort—your mother has graciously prepared a lovely selection of waxes for you and packed them safely in your cassone."

"Oh, father...there's not enough wax in the world!" Lucrezia breaks down sobbing again as her father comforts her in his warm embrace for the last time.

"Alrighty, then—off you go!" he pushes his daughter away unceremoniously toward her waiting escort.

Little Giovanni cries pitifully, wishing the script was following some semblance of a true time line and that he was even within a year of his true age so he could run up to anyone and slap them.


Naples, Italy

Michelleto returns to King Ferdinand's castle after a hunt gone horribly awry and joins Lucrezia on the balcony overlooking the courtyard as the king's corpse in brought in on a stretcher.

"My Lady, I fear the hunt has gone horribly awry," he says quietly from behind her.

"Micheletto," Lucrezia begins coolly, speaking surreptitiously over her shoulder at him, "what the fuck happened to our dear King?" Micheletto winks at her before she faces the courtyard again.

"Let us just say, my Lady, that should you find yourself near a body of water in this God-forsaken country that is not contained in a gobblet or a tub, it would behoove you to haul ass away from it like the holiest of all holy hell."


Avignon, France

Cesare Borgia, feeling ecstatic from spending a night with a beautiful wife that he doesn't have to take back to Rome and command and in possession of a full army, that he does, attends to one last task before he leaves Avignon.

"Ah, wonderful...it has arrived!" Cesare exclaims with a sexy smirk upon his face as a crate is set before his feet by two men dressed in odd brown vestments. "And they called us monkeys..." he mutters to himself as he shakes his damn head at the two UPS delivery men. He signs for the crates and dismisses them. "I understand Her Highness has not left the castle yet," he says then to the French Archbishop, "would you please see," he continues as he affixes the documents in his hand to the top of the crate with his official wax seal, "that this, her copy of the Papal Brief dissolving her marriage and the contents therein are delivered to her before she leaves?"

"My pleasure, Excellency..." the Archbishop says, then calls for escorts to accompany him to the Queen's chambers.

"From His Excellency, Cesare Borgia, my Lady..." The Archbishop bows deeply before the distraught woman and then leaves her in great haste. Her ladies gather around her and the two crates in the middle of the room.

"Well! Don't just stand there! Open it!" she yells at no one in particular as she snatches the documents from the top of the first crate. One of her ladies calls for a guard who opens the crates while the Queen reads the documents.

"What is it, my Lady?" Lady Aragona dares to ask.

"The Papal Brief dissolving my marriage...and a personal note from the Borgia Bastard himself," she snorts disgustedly; she thrusts it at the woman. "I'll not sully my hands with any other abominable things his have touched—read it! Aloud, Carlotta!" she orders the woman.

"Your Highness, please accept this token of my family's affection. Please enjoy it in good health. Borgiatastically yours, Cesare."

"Oh!" the Queen grunts again, more than outdone at the sure affrontery to follow. "What in hell is in the crate, already? What is it!" she demands angrily.

Her ladies all gasp as the guard hands Carlotta a tall dark bottle of Arrogant Bastard Ale.

"AAARRRGGHHH!" the Queen screams as she runs from the room, totally aghast and in tears.