“Charges always leave their sires. I would have gone at some point based on that,” I say reasonably. He scowls at me and I giggle.
“Now, I think you owe me an explanation,” I say.
He looks up at me
confused. “About what?” he asks.
“I have told you why I left you in 1112. Now, I want to know why you left me in 1506.”
“You know why,” he glowers at me.
“I really don’t, my love. I think this little experiment here has shown us that what we think and what is the truth, are two entirely different things.”
“Fine. Come with me,” he says, standing up then all CK-like. I sigh in relief that my sire is back. “We are in need of another visual aid.”
Picking our way over the bits of broken door, he leads us back the way we came and stops in front of another closed door. I know exactly who used to occupy this room, but I still don’t get it. He pushes it open. The room has been stripped bare of any furnishings or decoration. Just an empty shell of a room that used to be so beautifully painted, I draw in my breath in shock.
“Why? Why would you do this?” I ask him sadly.
“No reminders,” he says shortly.
“Of what? A man so brilliant that he is still revered today as one of the most influential men of the Renaissance?” I ask incredulously.
“Of the man who stole you from me,” he snaps.
“What? He didn’t steal me from you. Nobody could have done that,” I say.
“Aefre, I know what I heard,” he barks.
“Oh, just like I know what I saw?” I snap back. He has the grace to look away in shame. “Tell me what you think you know,” I say, softening slightly.
“Fine. I was down at this end of the castle finishing up a project, if you will, that I wanted to show you. I knew you were in here with him. I sensed you, heard you, but stayed just outside the area of you being able to sense me.” Again, he looks away. I smile inwardly. Being so much older than me, his range of being able to sense me is greater than my own, which is why he can sneak up on me, and his eavesdropping skills are to match. I know I can hear whispered conversations up to about ten feet away, depending on outside factors, but I know his range is longer. I couldn’t say for sure how much longer, but I would hazard a guess at around fifteen. Same goes for the other two, which is why CK spelled my Council office so that we could speak freely.
“You were eavesdropping?” I ask with a small smile.
“You could say that. I prefer to think of it as making sure you were okay,” he says haughtily. Unable to help myself, I burst out laughing. He glares at me, but then smiles himself. “Okay, yes, I was eavesdropping. Happy? You were…he made you happy, didn’t he? Pleased you well?” he continues, but I ignore him, not willing to discuss it.
He sighs at my silence and says, “After you were…finished, I heard you talking. You sounded so happy when you said, and I will remember the exact words until the end of time, ‘When we are married, I want a big celebration. I want the whole of Italy to know how much in love we are.’ Then he whispered that he loved you, that he would give you anything you wanted. I couldn’t bear it. I had thought that we were happy. That we were going to be together, to make it work that time.”
I listen in horror and sorrow and then say, “We were happy. I loved you more than ever. I wanted us to be together. What you overheard was me talking to my best friend about us, Constantine. You and me. Our wedding. How much I wanted to be your wife. How much I loved you.”
“But he told you he loved you and would give you anything you wanted?” he asks, confused.
“Yes, he told me he loved me. He did. But I did not love him back. Not in that way. What he meant was, he would give me whatever I wanted as a wedding present,” I explain.
He shakes his head in disbelief. “No. That is not what I heard.”
“Constantine, it is. Michelangelo was my friend long before we became lovers. You know that, you introduced us in Florence. When he came here, he would join me on my walks through the gardens and we would talk, about everything. He fell in love with me and I wanted him. We started sleeping together as a matter of course, but I never, ever stopped loving you. I wanted to be your wife more than anything. That is always the only thing I have ever wanted,” I admit cautiously, fiddling absently with the ring he gave me only a few hours before.
His eyes light up at my confession, but then cloud over when he realizes that he has fucked up as well by jumping to conclusions. What a pair we are.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is…FUCK!” he yells, running his hand through his hair. “Tell me that’s a lie, Aefre. Tell me that what I heard is…tell me that I didn’t fuck up?” he says desperately.
I shake my head, “I can’t, my love. You fucked up. I fucked up. We are a pair of fucking stubborn idiots.”
He looks at me so sadly, I want to cry. I do cry. It breaks his heart to see me so upset.
“I am sorry, Aefre.” He holds me close and it eases some of the pain. But then he abruptly pulls away and says, “Leave me now for a while. Please.”