**THE JOURNEY**
They rode through snow and ice, pushing the horses harder than was wise. Lorenzo didn't care. Every hour of delay felt like torture.
At night, while her men set up camp, Lorenzo would pace restlessly, unable to sleep. Her mind conjured terrible scenarios—Marie hurt, Marie in danger, Marie in William's arms, Marie forgetting her entirely.
The curse made it worse. Her fangs would extend without warning. Her eyes would flash red. She had to feed more frequently just to maintain control.
One of her officers approached cautiously on the third night. "Your Highness, you need to rest. We cannot maintain this pace if you drive yourself to exhaustion."
"I am fine."
The officer wisely retreated.
But he was right. Lorenzo knew he was right. The anxiety and the curse were feeding off each other, making her increasingly unstable.
She just needed to get to Marie. Once she saw Marie safe, once she held her, the anxiety would ease. The curse would settle.
She just needed to get there.
---
**THE ARRIVAL**
They arrived at the Boleyn estate under cover of darkness after twelve days of brutal riding. But rather than announce herself immediately, Lorenzo had half of her guards set up camp in the woods nearby.
"I want to you to stay here and guard the roads. Nothing comes in or out without your knowledge," she told her captain. "Something feels wrong. I can sense it."
She spent the day watching the estate from a distance, noting the comings and goings. She saw Matthew and William arriving together, their heads bent in conversation. Saw Ann arriving with her entourage, servants scurrying to accommodate her.
The anxiety spiked to near-unbearable levels.
Finally, as evening approached, Lorenzo could wait no longer.
She dressed in her finest—black pants, polished boots, burgundy coat with gold fastenings, sword at her side, heavy cape with the Di Sforza crest.
She looked every inch the warrior prince.
Marie arrived for the evening meal more perplexed than usual. The kiss with William haunted her, not because she wanted him, but because it had confirmed how utterly empty anything without Lorenzo felt. She pushed her food around her plate, barely eating, lost in thought.
Suddenly, the great hall doors swung open.
"His Highness, Prince Lorenzo Di Sforza!" the herald announced.
Lorenzo strode in.
Marie's heart stopped. Then started again, pounding so hard she thought everyone must hear it.
*Lorenzo.*
Thomas's eyes lit up with barely concealed greed. "Your Highness! Welcome! What a pleasant surprise! We were not expecting you for another month at least!"
Philip bowed politely, his expression neutral but his eyes calculating.
Matthew, however, approached with open hostility. He clapped his hand on Lorenzo's shoulder and squeezed hard, his face close to hers in a show of false camaraderie that was really dominance play. "Well, well. The Italian returns. Could not stand to be away from your mistress for long, eh?"
The guards immediately moved forward, hands on their weapons, ready to take Matthew's head for such blatant disrespect.
Lorenzo raised her hand, stopping them. She looked at Matthew with cold, dead eyes. "Careful. Your hand sits where it should not."
Matthew removed his hand slowly, deliberately, with a sneer. "Tell me, have you managed to secure a proper wedding yet? To salvage your wife's honor? Or does she remain your mistress in truth as well as name?"
The entire hall went silent. Every eye turned to Lorenzo, waiting for her response.
Lorenzo's voice was dangerously calm. "These are matters to discuss in private, Signor Boleyn. Not in a public hall like common gossip."
Then, louder, addressing the entire room with regal authority: "But let it be known—anyone who dares challenge the legitimacy of my wife shall answer to my blade. I decree it, as Prince of Napoli, Padua, and Aragon. Second-in-line to the throne of Italy."
The weight of her titles hung in the air. A reminder that Matthew was nothing compared to what Lorenzo represented.
Ann smiled from where she sat, looking at Marie with barely concealed malice. Her voice dripped with false sweetness. "What did you do to make him so devoted, sister dear? You must have given him quite the performance in bed."
Marie's face flushed scarlet with humiliation and rage. She stood abruptly, chair scraping back. "I do not care what anyone says. It does not change the fact that I am his mistress, not his wife. Not in any way that matters."
Her voice cracked on the last words.
She turned and fled the hall, needing air, needing space, needing to escape the suffocating weight of their judgment.
Lorenzo moved immediately to follow, but Thomas grabbed her arm with surprising boldness—or stupidity.
"Your Highness, please. We must discuss finances. The allowance you provided was generous, but with winter expenses and the additional mouths to feed—Ann's entourage is quite extensive—"
Lorenzo gritted her teeth, every instinct screaming to go after Marie. But she was trapped by protocol and politics.
She could not simply ignore her father-in-law in his own hall. Not without causing an incident.
"Very well," Lorenzo said, voice tight with barely controlled fury. "But make it quick."
Thomas smiled, oblivious to the danger he was in, and began to drone on about expenses.
Lorenzo barely heard a word. Her eyes kept drifting to the door where Marie had disappeared.
Lorenzo sat through Thomas's droning about winter expenses, nodding at appropriate intervals while her mind screamed at her to go find Marie.
Finally—*finally*—Thomas paused to take a breath.
"If you'll excuse me,"Lorenzo said, standing abruptly. "I need to find my wife."
Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but Lorenzo was already striding away, cape billowing behind her. She searched the great hall first. Empty. The library. Empty. The sitting room where the women usually gathered. Empty. Her anxiety spiked with each empty room.
*Where is she?*
One of the servants, seeing Lorenzo's increasingly frantic search, bowed nervously. "Your Highness, I believe Lady Marie went to the balcony. She often goes there when she needs air."
Lorenzo was already moving before the servant finished speaking.
---
The balcony was on the second floor, overlooking the snow-covered gardens.
Marie stood at the railing, her breath misting in the cold night air. She'd wrapped her arms around herself, staring out at nothing.
"Marie," Lorenzo said softly from the doorway.
Marie stiffened but didn't turn around. "Your Highness. Finished discussing finances?"
The formality in her tone cut like a knife. Lorenzo stepped closer. "Marie, please. Listen to me. What your cousin said...I meant to tell you..."
Marie laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Where would you like me to begin?"
Before Lorenzo could answer, another voice interrupted.
"Lady Marie." Lorenzo's head snapped around. William Stamford stood in the doorway leading from the interior corridor, as if he'd been waiting. Hunting for this exact moment.
"Lord Stamford," Lorenzo said coldly. "You were not invited to this conversation." "I simply wished to check on Marie." William said, but he didn't leave. Instead, he moved closer to Marie, deliberately positioning himself between her and Lorenzo. "Lady Marie, I wanted to tell you again You have got my support and can count on me, despite everything."
The implication was clear. *Despite being a mistress. Despite the shame.*
Marie's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
William turned to Lorenzo, bowing with barely concealed contempt. "Your Highness. It is a... pleasure to see you again. Though you have stolen my happiness, I bear you no ill will."
The lie was transparent.
Lorenzo's voice was cold as winter. "I will never apologize for claiming what is mine. And I would do it again without hesitation."
"Even though you cannot give her the one thing she truly deserves?"William's smile was sharp. "A proper marriage. Honor. Legitimacy."
He looked at Marie with practiced sorrow. "She deserves better than to be kept as a mistress, don't you think?"
Lorenzo's hand moved to her sword hilt. "Leave. Now. Before I forget the rules of hospitality."
William held up his hands in mock surrender. "Of course, Your Highness. I meant no offense."
He bowed to Marie. "Lady Marie. I hope you remember what we discussed. The offer stands. Always."
He left, but the poison of his words lingered. Lorenzo turned to Marie.
"What offer? What did he say to you?"Marie wrapped her arms tighter around herself.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Marie curtsied formally, her movements stiff. "I am but your mistress, Your Highness. You are right—I should know my place."
She turned to leave.
"Marie, wait—"
But she was already gone, walking quickly through the corridors.
Lorenzo followed, her long strides easily keeping pace.
***
Lorenzo caught up to Marie in one of the empty corridors. "Marie, stop!"
Marie whirled around. "What do you want from me?" "I want you to talk to me! I should have told you. It was wrong of me to keep this."
Marie's voice rose. "I am your mistress, Lorenzo! Everyone knows it! They treat me like—like a whore that you keep!"
"I am working on this...soon I will fix it" Lorenzo said desperately.
"You could have at least told me!" Marie shouted. "You could have warned me! Prepared me! Instead, I had to learn from my mother that I will never be your proper wife!"
"It was not relevant, at that moment. We were still at odds. That would have pushed you away even more. " Lorenzo argued. "To me, you are my wife. That is all that matters." "
Not relevant?" Marie laughed bitterly. "Everyone else's opinion is relevant when they look at me like I am something to be used!"
She turned to walk away. Lorenzo grabbed her arm. Marie spun and slapped Lorenzo across the face. The sound echoed in the corridor.
One of the new guards who had accompanied Lorenzo from Italy flinched, his hand going instinctively to his weapon. These were fresh recruits who had not yet pledged to Marie. They thought of her as merely the master's mistress, someone who deserved basic politeness but not true loyalty. Lorenzo's head snapped toward the guard.
"Did you just try to draw your sword against her?" The guard froze.
"Your Highness, I—" Lorenzo's fist connected with the guard's face. Once. Twice. The man stumbled backward, blood streaming from his nose. Lorenzo grabbed him by his collar and slammed him against the wall. Her voice was deadly. "Marie's life is more important to me than my own. Your loyalty to her should be absolute. She is not my mistress, she is my wife. And if any of you ever disrespect her again, I will kill you myself."
She released the guard, who slumped to the floor. Lorenzo turned to the other guards, her eyes blazing. "Is that understood?"
As one, they placed their fists over their hearts and bowed their heads. "Yes, Your Highness."
Lorenzo turned back to Marie, her breathing ragged. "Go on. Hit me again if it will make you feel better."
Marie stared at her, her eyes filled with tears. "That was an unnecessary act of violence."
"It was necessary," Lorenzo said firmly.
"Acts of devotion performed loudly do not compensate for treachery done quietly," Marie said, her voice breaking. "You should have told me the truth from the beginning."
She turned and walked away, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. Lorenzo stood motionless in the corridor, her hand throbbing from the punch, her heart aching worse than any physical wound.
"Treat his wounds"she told the other guards, gesturing to the man she had beaten.
They obeyed silently, leaving Lorenzo alone in the cold, empty hallway. She had returned to protect Marie. But she was beginning to wonder if Marie even wanted her protection anymore.