la-bella-falco:
She’d spent the night, or what was left of it, in the hospital. Lucrezia Falco had refused to be admitted herself, once she’d come to. She did permit them to examine her and tend to the cuts and bruises, and she moaned and stumbled enough to collect all of the necessary prescriptions - to use either now or later. And then, she found the room where they were keeping her husband, his face bruised and bloodied, still out cold. Lucrezia refused a bed, and sat curled up in a chair beside Mikael’s, still wearing the tatters of her dress and someone’s suit jacket.
They forced her to leave around 8 am, the pill bottles rattling in her purse as the nameless initiate drove her home. Blood and flashes of gunfire and screams and all of it echoed in her fractured mind - leaning against the window in the back of the car. Lucrezia didn’t remember going inside, she didn’t remember who peeled off the ruined dress, or how the blood got washed off her body and how she ended up in her own bed in her favorite of Mik’s t-shirts.
She woke up to the knock, and heard the housekeeper - what day of the week was it - let in the guest. Lucrezia raised a hand to brush the hair out of her eyes, to straighten herself up before a guest. She winced at the movement, but still pulled herself up against the pillows a bit more and smiled at the sight of Juliana. She’d heard the whispers, the rumors of blood and sacrifice, and honestly was quite put out that she’d missed it all. Fucking Roman Montague would pay for that, at least.
“Reinita,” her voice came out hoarse, symptom of the necklace of purple bruises ringing her throat. Lucrezia reached out her hand towards Juliana, inviting her to join her on the huge bed. The flowers were a nice touch, and she meant to thank her for them, but the thought flitted away as soon as the heiress spoke next.
“I’m fine, promise. Just a concussion and some bruising, so I’m a bit blurry, forgive me.” Lucrezia let her fingers trail down her own face, lingering on the bruises on her neck and highlighting those on her arms. “I’ve heard fragments, most of the important parts. About the traitor and her demise.” She blinked slowly to focus her eyes in darkness, locking them on Juliana’s eyes. “And how you issued the final blow.” She reached out to grab the younger woman’s hands in her own, a smile curling from bruised lips.
“I am so proud of you. They say you were incredible. Tell me how it felt - the good, the bad, all of it?”
“Reinita.”
The pet name echoes like a gentle, familiar calling, but if the hoarseness of Lucrezia’s voice is any indication, this is anything but familiar territory. The warmth of Lucrezia’s hand is reassuring, but as Juliana’s gaze trails over each and every injury that adorns her trainer, she can’t help but feel her heart jump into her throat. She wishes there was something she could do so soothe the bruises, to put an end to the woman’s pain but instead, Juliana feels overwhelmed by her helplessness.
Juliana isn’t used to having so little to offer, her pragmatism as unparalleled as her determination. Swallowing tightly, she supposes that she might be able to serve as a distraction, hopefully able to provide momentary reprieve from Lucrezia’s physical ailments. She slips on to the plush bed, careful to catalog the location of each of Lucrezia’s limbs, as to avoid causing the woman further pain.
“I never cease to be surprised by how quickly word travels around these parts,” Juliana replies, as she looks down, smiling softly at the other woman. It’s perhaps less surprising that even in her current state Lucrezia seems to have gotten the gist of everything she’s missed.
“I’m not sure that incredible is the right word,” Juliana divulges, despite offering no alternative. There’s no single word to sum up everything she felt-- the guilt, the pride, the harrowing sense of dread that something had changed within her. If not inwardly, than certainly outwardly, for all her people to see.
Lucrezia’s use of the word ‘pride’ however, manages to settle her, a reassurance that she had done well and managed to please more than just her father.
“If I’m being totally honest, it felt complicated...” Juliana admits, “All I’ve done these past few days is dwell on that moment and for all that I’ve thought about it...I’m just not entirely sure where I go from here...”
“The world keeps moving and I suppose I ought to, as well...I just want to make sure my steps are in the right direction, whatever direction that may be...”
