Thirteen Lullabies | ✓

X.III

As promised, you returned the next day. And the next and the next. For the next six days, you returned and told me about one of our lives together. I would repeat each and every one as you told them to me, but these letters are full of the lives we shared, and I would only be repeating what you have already read. You told me all were just myths and legends. But I knew the truth.

On the final day, your sister had fallen ill, and only you came to see me. As the final words left your mouth about our life in England, I stood.

"Alessandra, I know you think you can't trust me, but there is something you must know. The satchel you took from me when you brought me here. It contains very important items that I would like to show you. Is there any way you could bring it to me?"

I had never made any kind of request, and as you told me in one of our first meetings, you did trust me. With that in mind, I hoped you would honor my request. You nodded and ran off, in search of the satchel I felt empty without.

When you came back, minutes later, slightly out of breath, you clutched it in your hands. Unlocking the cell, you walked in and shut the bars behind you. After handing me the satchel, you moved a few feet back and sat, awaiting whatever it was I needed to show you.

I sat in front of you, removing each item and laying them before us. Your hands fidgeted, as if you wanted to touch the items. I indicated with my hand that this was alright and you began tracing the outline of each item, memorizing every detail.

"What are they?"

Pointing at each one as I spoke, I explained them. "Althaea's dagger, Morrígan's druidess ring, part of Brynhildr's shield, part of Rani's ghagra, Blanche's Valois ring and Georgiana's favorite book. And that last book is my sketchbook, with drawings of each of those women, including Calliope. I don't have anything other than the drawing from Calliope's time."

Your mouth hung open, eyes wide. "How? How do you have these? All of those stories were myths."

"What if they were not? What if all of those stories you told me truly happened?"

"Apologies. I-I simply do not understand."

I nodded my head. How could you? You had spent your whole life believing that these were myths. That none of these strong women were real.

"Do you think my mom knew? She always told me she wanted me to hold these stories dear to my heart because they would help me be strong when I eventually became the assassin she had trained me to be."

I had wondered about that, about what you were doing the night we met in this life.

"Why did she raise you to be an assassin? Why not like a normal lady of noble birth?"

You sighed, grabbing my sketchbook, the only item you hadn't touched. Flipping through it, you explained, "This is information that nobody knows. I am the only living person who knows this, so you must promise to keep this quiet."

I nodded my head. "Absolutely."

"I am actually the daughter of Lucrezia Borgia and her lover, Pietro Bembo. I don't remember meeting him, as he left in 1505 and my mother never told me about him. I only found out because I found letters from him to her, as well as her diary, and realized that I could not be Alfonso's child."

I was so shocked. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't form a coherent thought.

You nodded your head. "I know, it's pretty crazy. My mother knew that if anyone found out, we would both be killed. She wanted me to be prepared for anything, so she raised me to kill. Her weapon of choice was always poison, but I prefer my dagger." You pulled it from your cloak to show me, as if you hadn't already used it on me.