@fortitxdo
It had been a few days, and they were all recovering from the attack. Lorenzo arrived home safely, finally, and he had commended her for her courage in keeping their house together. Her mother in law had not, though. She never did. This time, Clarice hardly blamed her; she was mourning Giuliano, as was everyone. She acted as support to Lorenzo, knowing he was struggling so dearly with the loss of his brother. She concealed her own true feelings of mourning, her tears shed privately for Giuliano’s death, her own devastation and heartbreak, for she knew they were inappropriate. It had been only a one-sided love she had for Giuliano, and he had given his heart to another, and she was married. She loved Lorenzo, and she knew he loved her in his own way. She would be there for him.
Today she decided to finally approach Lucrezia since the beginning of the attacks, now that things were calm and the Pazzis were apprehended, awaiting punishment in the bargello. "Maddona." Clarice greeted quietly, going to kneel beside her at one of the statues in the Medici chapel. She was praying for Giuliano no doubt, or perhaps even herself. "I'm sorry. Your son was a treasure to Florence, to all of us."
