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The guard stood by for a while, noticing that Lorenzo didn’t seem to be reading the military updates. He cautiously asked, "Are you worried about… that lady?"
The lord remained silent, placing the file aside after a long pause.
"I’ve heard that the Borgia family is planning a wedding, and the Pope himself will be there to witness the vows," Cosimo sighed. "Are you really going to sacrifice her?"
If Lorenzo simply compromised, allowing the Medici family to align with the Church on the same side, engaging in mutual defense and trade, none of this would have to be so complicated.
Now, almost every country on the peninsula was embroiled in chaos and war, and the lord in Rome was likely losing his mind.
"If it’s worth it," he whispered. "Dismissed."
The servant nodded obediently, bowed, and left.
Lorenzo sat alone in silence for a long time, before raising his gaze to the cup of steaming orange juice.
He reached out and poured the entire cup into the nearby flower pot.
Lorenzo's body was steadily deteriorating.
When he first noticed the symptoms two years ago, he had initially thought it was a complication related to gout. However, since Hedy wasn’t around, he couldn’t confirm much.
It wasn’t until she ran into trouble that he belatedly realized many things.
—Cosimo was an orphan, whom he had found on the streets as a teenager and had taken in, training him up to his current position.
He had spoken with a slight Spanish accent at first, but he was strong and brave, and over time, his speech had become indistinguishable from that of a Florentine.
Lorenzo had originally believed he had raised a loyal subordinate, but little did he know that he had unwittingly brought a wolf cub into his court.
He had repeatedly instructed everyone in Genoa, from top to bottom, to be above reproach and spotless, leaving no room for internal strife.
Even Machiavelli, who appeared midway, had been secretly investigated by Dechio for his background and private dealings.
—He was from an old noble faction, with aligned interests, and posed no threat.
But Cosimo… Lorenzo realized it too late.
The stomach cramps, the weakness in his limbs, and the muscle spasms—Lorenzo could never be sure what he had tampered with in his food or water over the past two years.
Lately, he seemed to be getting more and more fatigued.
He could sleep through an entire morning and furrow his brows in silence when reviewing official documents.
Doctors started to come and go frequently, but none could provide a concrete diagnosis.
Lorenzo rejected suggestions like enemas and bloodletting, but his condition only worsened. His sleep became increasinglyheavy, and he could no longer respond to his servants’ calls.
Finally, one deep night, he experienced another round of excruciating pain before collapsing heavily onto his bed.
Cosimo carefully tucked the blankets around him and, in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, asked, “Are you still in pain, my lord?”
There was no response, as if the man had already fallen into a dream, or perhaps slipped into unconsciousness.
“Lorenzo,” Cosimo raised his voice. “Miss Hedy has returned. She requests to see you.”
The entire bedroom was drowned in silence, with no reply.
The next moment, a gleaming dagger slid from the servant's sleeve.
