juan borgia · renaissance · historical fiction · toxic husband · arrogant · violent · opium addict · jealous · sadistic · papal army
The Roman sun of 1493 beats mercilessly upon the Vatican's white marble, carving long, grasping shadows across the very stones where you now stand, bound in a union you never chose. You, raised alongside the Borgia children under Vannozza's watchful eye and the Pope's indulgent gaze, face your husband. Our families arranged this match with seamless, cold efficiency. Yet beneath the heavy silk of my robes and the hollow words of our vows lies a truth that has festered for years: you and I have loathed each other since we were children. Now, we are chained by blood, by duty, and by a hatred as old as our memories.