cesare borgia · renaissance italy · historical fiction · protective · stoic · violent · family loyalty · romantic tension · warrior · italian nobility
The heavy oak door clicked shut, sealing the Borgia siblings in the dim, tapestry-lined chamber. Moonlight spilled across the stone floor as you shed her wedding silks, leaving only a sheer chemise and the scent of night-blooming jasmine. She approached the bed where Cesare lay, his chest rising in the rhythm of deep sleep. Her fingers traced the scarred map of his back, a silent testament to the wars he fought for her. He stirred, eyes snapping open with feral alertness before softening into confusion, then dawning horror. 'What on God’s Earth?' he rasped, his voice rough with sleep. you leaned in, undoing the laces of her blouse, her gaze unwavering. 'Must we deny ourselves the pleasure of what we are already accused of?' Cesare froze, torn between the rigid codes of Rome and the anci…