6th of January, 1537, Florence
"Ma donna! Ma donna!" echoed a voice in the distance. Margarita, who knelt on her prayer stool, concluded her prayers with a sign of the cross and rose to her feet.
The doors of her chambers swung open, and her lady-in-waiting rushed in with Lorenzo in her arms. Following her, the nursemaid carried Giulio and Simonetta.
Upon seeing her children, Margarita walked directly towards them. "What's happening?" she asked, alarmed. She took Lorenzo from her lady-in-waiting and gently stroked his hair.
Her lady-in-waiting panted as she looked at her mistress with a gaze of sympathy. "The duke has been murdered. The cardinal has sent us to you. He asks you to gather the most essential things. He will come for you shortly."
Margarita felt her heart sink. She held Lorenzo even tighter in her arms.
They had murdered her husband, the father of her adopted children.
The children.
They would come after them now.
Margarita pushed her emotions aside. She couldn't afford to be fearful or sorrowful now. She had to protect Alessandro's last heirs.
"Pack all my jewels, everything of value. I don't need dresses, but blankets. And nanny, gather enough warm clothes for the children," she commanded. Placing the children on her bed, she began collecting her jewels.
The door flew open again, and Ippolito hurried into the room, carrying a filled heavy bag. Seeing Ippolito, Margarita ran towards him. "Did they really kill my husband?" she asked, disbelieving. She looked into Ippolito's reddened eyes. He nodded.
"We need to get the children to safety before Lorenzino comes after them too." He glanced around. "Guards! Take the duchess's belongings to the carriage and protect us." He walked to the bed, lifting Lorenzo. He gestured to her lady-in-waiting and the nursemaids to pick up the twins, then left the room.
Margarita ran after him, contemplating Ippolito's words. "Lorenzino murdered my husband? Where is he? Where is my husband?" she cried. Ippolito stopped and turned to her. "Margarita, I beg you to stay silent. We must leave Florence; we don't know what awaits us." He looked at her imploringly.
Margarita nodded briefly and followed Ippolito. They walked past the stables to Ippolito's carriage, where they took their seats. Ippolito mounted his horse.
"We're going to my house in Rome. We'll be safe there until our enemies track us down. From there, we'll figure out where to secure you and the children," he called out to Margarita as they departed from the palazzo.
Margarita nodded, looking out the carriage window. The city was still quiet; it was the middle of the night, and she assumed no one knew that their duke had been murdered. It wouldn't be long before news of his death and their departure spread. She hoped they would be far from Florence by then.
She thought of her poor Alessandro. It pained her that she couldn't see him before his departure. She wondered who would weep at his grave when he was buried. She and the children would be far away by then.
Margarita wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek. She glanced at the twins, sleeping in the arms of the nanny and her lady-in-waiting, and then at Lorenzo, sleeping in her arms.
"You may not know it now, my dearest boy, but you are now the Duke of Florence, and I will ensure that one day you reclaim your rightful place in Florence from our enemies," she whispered softly before a cascade of tears began to flow down her cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
The Serpent Queen
Historical Fiction"I am Catherine di Medici; queen of France and mother of kings." At a time when women are taught to be quiet and obedient, never to live her own life but to follow the path men have written for her, Catherine is challenged to be more and make her o...
