She laughs but tries to seem displeased by that term. "It must be better than that. Ice soup at least."
Even with Cassandra's hand on her cheek, Lucrezia still tries to drop her eyes to her lap, averting her gaze. Not that it matters, when the girl doesn't need to look into her eyes to see whether she's speaking the truth. It's not that she doesn't believe in the idea of friendship, as much as she believes in the idea of love, but she isn't convinced that someone like her would ever find it away from her family.
The Borgias are outsiders, a breed of outcasts welcome neither in Italy nor Spain nor anywhere else for that matter. They belong only to themselves, to family. Everyone else are either tools or enemies.
It takes her too long to respond, trying to understand her own state of mind. Why indeed. "Because I trust you," and she knows to lift her eyes when she says it, because it's true, even if not as fully as she would like Cass to believe. "I could sleep in your arms and not fear to wake with a blade at my throat."
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Even with Cassandra's hand on her cheek, Lucrezia still tries to drop her eyes to her lap, averting her gaze. Not that it matters, when the girl doesn't need to look into her eyes to see whether she's speaking the truth. It's not that she doesn't believe in the idea of friendship, as much as she believes in the idea of love, but she isn't convinced that someone like her would ever find it away from her family.
The Borgias are outsiders, a breed of outcasts welcome neither in Italy nor Spain nor anywhere else for that matter. They belong only to themselves, to family. Everyone else are either tools or enemies.
It takes her too long to respond, trying to understand her own state of mind. Why indeed. "Because I trust you," and she knows to lift her eyes when she says it, because it's true, even if not as fully as she would like Cass to believe. "I could sleep in your arms and not fear to wake with a blade at my throat."