Marie returned to the pew on shaking legs, not looking at Lorenzo at all.
She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, on the altar, on the priest, on anything but the person sitting beside her.
Her face was burning. Her body was still trembling. And underneath her dress, she could feel the evidence of what had just happened—the wetness, the ache, the lingering sensation of him inside her.
*I got wetter,* she thought, mortified. *When they were right there. When Father was right there, I—*
She had read about such things, of course. In books Ann had smuggled to her, in whispered conversations with other married women. She'd thought it indecent. Shocking. The kind of thing that happened to other women with looser morals, women who lacked proper upbringing. She had never imagined it would happen to her. That her body would respond to danger. To the taboo of it. That she would get wetter, more desperate, more undone with her own father just beyond that curtain.
*What does that make me?*
She risked one glance at Lorenzo. He sat perfectly composed, hands folded, face serene, as if he hadn't just been buried inside her minutes ago. As if he hadn't whispered "how lewd" against her ear while she trembled. But there was something in his eyes when he felt her looking. Something warm. Possessive. Almost... loving.
Marie looked away quickly, her heart doing something complicated in her chest.
The moment mass ended, Marie fled.
She found Ann in the crowd and grabbed her arm. "I need to talk to you. Now."
Ann took one look at her sister's face and nodded. "Come."
They found a quiet corner, away from the milling crowd. Marie glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned close.
"He...in the church! we..." Marie couldn't find the words.
Ann's eyes widened. "In the *church*?"
Marie nodded, face burning.
"During mass?"
Another nod.
Ann let out a surprised laugh, quickly smothered. "My God. He really is something, isn't he?"
"It's not funny!"Marie hissed. "Ann, Father and Matthew walked by. They were right there. "
She stopped, too mortified to continue.
" That is definitely on my list. Good for you sissy"
Marie's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I am so ashamed. I really hate this man"
Ann blinked. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "Oh, Marie. I know for a fact you must have enjoyed it somehow. Why are you blushing then!"
"Don't look at me like that!" Marie snapped
"Like what?"
"Like you're proud of me!"
Ann squeezed her hands.
"He's so much like Henry in some ways. That confidence. That complete disregard for consequences. But..." She paused. "Henry wouldn't have stopped. Even if you'd begged."
Marie thought about that. About how Lorenzo had fought herself.
How she'd finally withdrawn when Marie promised to come tonight. How hard it had clearly been for him.
"I need to stay in your chambers tonight," Marie said suddenly. Ann raised an eyebrow.
"Running away?"
"I need time to think."
Ann studied her for a long moment. "Marie, the ball is in your court now. You can give him the night of sex he clearly wants—" Marie flushed deeper. "—or you can play with him a little bit more. Either way, based on what you've told me, he won't hurt you. He'll suffer, certainly. But he won't hurt you."
Marie bit her lip. "I don't know what I want."
"Yes, you do," Ann said gently. "You're just afraid to admit it."
--- **THE BOLEYN MANOR - EVENING**
They returned home. Lorenzo lingered in the hall, her eyes following Marie as she disappeared upstairs with Ann.
She was imagining, could not stop imagining, what she would do to Marie tonight. How she would finally, properly, have her. She made her way to her chambers, changed into more comfortable evening attire, and returned to the hall.
Thomas was there, already launching into complaints about expenses and Marie's spending, but Lorenzo barely registered the words. Her mind was upstairs. With Marie. She wandered the corridors restlessly, unable to settle, until she found Marcello performing his evening rounds.
"Marcello," Lorenzo said, trying to sound casual. "Where is Marie?"
"I saw her going to Lady Ann's chambers, Your Highness."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "I should go retrieve her."
"Your Highness..." Marcello stepped in front of her. "That would be inappropriate."
"I do not care..."
"*Ragazzo.*" Marcello's hand came up to pat Lorenzo's cheek gently. "*Le donne sono un mistero. Amale, ma non cercare mai di ragionare con loro.*" *(Women are a mystery. Love them, but never try to reason with them.)*
He left. Lorenzo stood there in the corridor, fists clenched at her sides.
Then she returned to her chambers. She carried in a bottle of expensive wine, something she had been saving. She lit the fire, building it higher than usual. The room needed to be warm for what she had planned. Lorenzo paused, looking at the preparations. The fire. The wine. The care she had taken.
*Why am I EVEN doing this she might not show* she thought. *Never waited like this. Never cared like this.*
But this one, this stubborn, brilliant, infuriating woman, had managed to ruin her completely.
And for the first time in a long time, Lorenzo drank. She drank to quiet the want. To quiet the fear. She drank until the bottle was empty and her head was swimming. At some point, the floor seemed more inviting than the chair.
The bearskin rug before the fire was soft, warm. Lorenzo removed her shirt and trousers, leaving herself in just her undergarments, and pulled the fur around herself. Just for a moment, she told herself. Just until Marie came.
--- **LATE NIGHT**
Marie stood outside Ann's door, biting her lip.
"Go," Ann said from inside. "You know you wish to."
"I am merely going to wish him goodnight,"Marie said. "Nothing more."
"Of course you are,"Ann said, smiling. "Goodnight, little sister."
Marie walked to their chambers, heart pounding.
She opened the door slowly. Lorenzo was asleep on the floor. Marie stopped, staring. She was sprawled upon the bearskin rug before the fire, the fur strategically covering her lower half. Her chest was completely bare and flat, strong yet somehow still delicate in its lines.
Her hair was mussed, falling into her face. One arm was thrown over her head. Marie's eyes traced the lines of Lorenzo's body. The strong shoulders. The flat chest. The lean muscles of her abdomen disappearing beneath the edge of the bearskin.
Marie's gaze dropped lower and her face burned scarlet. She looked away with haste. *Do not look at that. Do not think upon that.*
She knelt beside Lorenzo, meaning to wake her, but before she could speak, Lorenzo's hand shot out and caught her wrist.
Marie gasped as she was pulled down onto the bearskin, Lorenzo's arms wrapping around her, drawing her close.
The fur shifted but remained over Lorenzo's lower half, preserving some modesty.
"I knew you would come," Lorenzo murmured, eyes still closed, words slurred. "I knew—I told Marcello, knew you would come back to me, "
"You reek of wine," Marie said. "Release me."
"Cannot." Lorenzo's eyes opened, dark and unfocused. "Cannot let you go. Not again. Not ever again."
Lorenzo pulled Marie fully on top of her, and Marie felt—oh. Even through the bearskin and her nightgown, she could feel it. The hardness of his... Lorenzo was already aroused, she thought. Marie's face burned, but before she could speak, Lorenzo began talking—words tumbling out in wine-loosened confession.
"Do you know what it is like?" Lorenzo's voice was rough, desperate. "To wake each morning and think *today is the day I lose her*? To wonder when...when you will see through me? When you will discover " She stopped, jaw clenching.
"Discover what?" Marie asked softly. "Everything."
Lorenzo's laugh was bitter. "All of it. The things I am. The things I hide. The monster beneath the prince's mask."
"You are a bit of a brute but you are not a monster..."
"You do not know that." Lorenzo's hand came up to cup Marie's face, thumb stroking her cheek. "You do not know what I am capable of. What I have done. What I want to do to you."
Marie's breath caught.
"I am afraid," Lorenzo whispered. "Terrified. That one day you will look at me and see the truth. And when you do, when you finally see me, you will leave me. And I will have no choice but to let you go, because keeping you when you want to leave would make me the monster I fear I already am."
"Lorenzo, I do not understand..."
"I know." Lorenzo pulled her closer. "And perhaps it is better that way. Perhaps ignorance is the only thing that allows you to look at me with anything other than horror."
She was quiet for a moment, then: "But God help me, I love you. More than anything. More than honor, more than duty, more than my own cursed life. I love you in ways that frighten me. I feel drawn to you like, like the tide to the moon. Inevitable. Inescapable."
Marie's eyes burned with a sadness she did not fully understand.
"And the desire..." Lorenzo's voice roughened. "The things I want to do to you. I want—I need..."
She could not finish.
"I am here," Marie whispered, her hand coming up to touch Lorenzo's face. "I am right here."