Rome, February 1498
“Yes, Your Eminence?” Michelotto said, bowing as he stood before my desk.
“I’ve a task for you,” I said.
“Your wish is my command, my lord.”
“Do you know of a chamberlain in His Holiness’s service named Pedro Calderon?”
Michelotto thought about it. “Perotto?”
“Yes. That is the man.”
“I do indeed, my lord.”
“Good. And there is a maid in my sister’s service by the name of Pantasilea. Do you know her as well?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. This shall be easy enough then. They need to be silenced.”
Michelotto did not flinch. “Permanently?”
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. “It seems this low-born Perotto is the father of my sister’s child, and Pantasilea has been aiding and abetting their affair all along. They cannot be allowed to tell anyone of this.”
Michelotto bowed. “Understood, my lord. Consider it done.” He moved to leave, but hesitated.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Does anyone else know of this?” he asked. “Their affair?”
“They are the only ones with proof of it,” I said. “Satisfying as it would no doubt be, I cannot do away with everyone in Rome who speaks ill of my sister. These two are the only ones who could prove anything, if they were driven to it. If they were offered the right price.”
“Are they?” he asked. “What of the little maid, the one you take to your bed?”
“What of her?” I bit out.
“I assume she is how you found out this particular information. I did not tell you of it.”
I rose from my chair. “Maddalena Moretti is not to be harmed, for any reason,” I said, speaking each word slowly and clearly. “Indeed, you will consider her safety as paramount as my own. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my lord. If you are certain.”
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I retorted. “Maddalena will keep what she knows to herself. And I will not have her hurt, under any circumstances.”
He bowed. “Of course, my lord. I should never have mentioned it.”
“Indeed. Now go. You have work to do.”
Michelotto turned and left, and I sank back down into my chair and closed my eyes. Maddalena. No, I would protect her with all the powers at my disposal, especially now, after everything we had been through together. I needed her. We could not have brought down Savonarola without her. And she was beautiful and kind and faithful and somehow without bitterness—everything I was not. I did not know when my desire for her body had morphed into something else, into this compulsive necessity, but it had. And I could not go back.