“What—I—” I wanted to put my hands to my temples to keep my head from splitting. Rage choked in my throat like a plug of hot molten wax. “What do you think I am, Rodrigo? A ewe? You think you can take one lamb away and just give me another to suckle because I’ll never know the difference?”

“Bah, you’ll love the new baby like your own, mi perla.” Rodrigo cupped my face in his hands. “A fine healthy child, as rosy and noisy as Laura at that age.” He gave me a fond little shake. “So, what do you say? A French comte for Laura, and another child for you?”

I saw all the old softness in his dark Spanish eyes. Caterina Gonzaga could strut and preen all she liked; if I wanted my old lover back I had only to say so.

But I took a deliberate step back, shaking his hands away. I had a moment’s fleeting pity for Lucrezia’s inconvenient child and its uncertain future, but I had my own child to protect. And I was done covering for Borgia sins and Borgia secrets.

“Your Holiness,” I said, and my fury chiseled every word out sharp as new ice. “I am taking my daughter home, away from this murderous pit of vipers you call a family. If you attempt to take her away from me, or marry her off to some poxy Frenchman, or otherwise ruin her future the way you have ruined Lucrezia’s, I shall scratch your eyes out. And if you think I will raise Lucrezia’s bastard for her, you are dreaming.”

But he was dreaming, of course. The Borgia dream, a family atop the world, united and perfect. Always perfect; never in any way wrong. Rodrigo looked like he’d been waked from that dream by a rude slap as he looked down at me.

His smile disappeared. “How dare you speak to Us in such a fashion, Giulia Farnese? You will not dictate to the Holy Father. As for Laura—”

“Laura is not your daughter,” I hissed. “She is Orsino’s, she has always been Orsino’s, I have lied to you for years.” Holy Virgin, help me lie now.

“Nonsense,” my former lover said. “We see Our face in hers—”

“That’s your own vanity staring back at you!” Don’t provoke him, some little warning voice in my head cried. Be careful, Giulia—but what choice did I have? He wanted to take my daughter away, my daughter, and if my pleading and my sweet reason hadn’t worked to dissuade him, maybe my lies would. I’d say anything, anything at all, if it would wrench Laura out of his clutches—and if I said it here, where just the two of us could hear the words, then at least my defiance and my lies would be a private matter and not a public slash against Rodrigo’s pride.