DESTINED - LORENZO DE MEDICI

CHAPTER ONE

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She had spent her afternoon helping Bianca and Lucrezia with Piero. Giovanni had to gone off somewhere. She bit her lip, she knew he must be visiting Catherine Borgia. It was getting darker, she watched the sky with pure sadness within her. Suddenly she watched Lucrezia jolted on her feet, heavily breathily. "Bianca, Roslin stay with your father." Quickly marched out of the room leaving her in despair to know more. Can it be Lorenzo? Has he returned this quickly? Taking one last look at Piero who was sleeping, she turned to Bianca. "I must see if it's them. I'll be back, Bianca." She got up leaving her to nod at her response, getting closer to her father. She turned once more to look at Bianca holding Piero's hand, praying. She closed her eyes, to try at least to remember her father. Her biological father but nothing came to mind. She didn't remember him, nor will she ever. She made it down the stairs to see Lucrezia run after Giuliano leaving Lorenzo alone.

"Lorenzo?" She questioned earning his look. She made her way towards him smiling out of happiness. He carelessly touched her cheek, smiling seeing the sight of her. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered to her stroking her hair. "I'm happy you're okay." He trembled his words. Roslin noticed something was wrong. "What's wrong?" She asked, placing her right hand on his right cheek. He refused to look at her. "Don't shut me out. Talk to me." He looked at her once more.

"I killed a man today. I watched the life drain from his eyes." He spoke, calmly. It looked like he had a hard time processing what he had done. She smiled carelessly, touching his cheeks. "Listen to my words, Lorenzo. It was self-defense. As soon as you killed the guards, you had no choice."

"I know, I know. And yet, I took a life. Everything that that man was, everything that... Everything that he will ever be, is gone from this world. Forever." Lorenzo blue eyes sting into hers, shaking. She didn't know what to say but only bit her lip, he was right but it wasn't his fault. The man tried to kill him. It was self-defense. Lorenzo can never be a killer. The boy she grew to love can never be a killer. "It weighs on you. As it should. But you made the right choice, Lorenzo." She paused looking into his dark- blue eyes closely. "And in the eyes of man and God, you must make peace with it." After she finished, she leaned in placing her lips onto his lips, she leaned back gasping for air. Her lips were swollen, she gulped. They both smiled at each other leaning to kiss each other once more. "Lorenzo!" They leaned back hearing voices calling for him. They began to laugh sighing at their short-lived passionate moment.

"Shall we?" He asked, offering his hand. She gladly took it, smiling.

"You'll shall."

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Then the next morning arise sooner than anybody could expected. She made her way downstairs alongside Lucrezia. "And your beautiful mother." She paused when she noticed a man, dark reddish beard, wearing an over-sized coat. "There is my beautiful daughter, Roslin." When she heard those words her heart broke. He got closer to her grabbing her by the arm. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You have grown very tall like your mother."

"General Sforza..." They both turned to faced Lucrezia. "Madonna." Her father responded. "Surely you've not forgotten your kind invitation...you see. I had to see how my daughter was doing here." Roslin didn't know any of this. She looked at Lorenzo, ready to murder to him for not telling her of her father arrived.

"No, no... Certainly not. We'll ready your rooms at once." Lucrezia demanded the servants that were nearby.  "That is by that young-artist, Botticelli, isn't it?" Galeazzo peered his eyes on a painting not far away.

"Magnificent."

"Where's your father, boy?" He asked changing the topic. She still stood by her father's side feeling uneasy. "I'm right here." All of them looked to see Piero walking down, weakened wearing a oversized red gown. Simply shocked, he could walk. "You should rest, father." Lorenzo made his way to Piero only to be turned away. "I'm rested." He continued.  "Come, Galeazzo."