sixthiterationlogs | Poison Is a Woman's Weapon

Beverly normally wouldn't interrupt anyone, especially someone looking so studious, but the moment she catches sight of plants on the table, her attention is stolen. Pausing for a few seconds, she finally decides that this at least will make for a good topic of conversation. So she moves over, trying not to startle the other woman.

"I don't want to interrupt, but botany is something of a hobby," she explains, smiling anyway. "You've got a good variety. Looks like what can be found in the wild here."

And she's sketching them, like Peeta. What a good idea.

Her sketches were messy, smudging her attempts at capturing the small details and lines of the plants. No matter how hard she tried to keep her hand steady, her fingers seemed to blue what she had managed to draw before. Without charcoal, she was no better than Sisyphus, pushing a great stone up a hill before it rolled to the bottom once more. So close to her goal, yet still so far.

Beverly provided a pleasant distraction, letting her irritation to subside. "Do you?" What luck! Someone that could help her discern the uses of the plants that she didn't recognize. "Many of these are a mystery for me. I know a few, but not enough."

She pushed the sketches to the side, gesturing for Beverly to join her. "We might need the plants to help us craft cures or poultices."

Beverly peers at the plants in front of them, resting her arms on the table. "That was the idea I had when I planted the garden I'm growing now," she admits warmly. It's good to see that even non-medical people see the benefit in keeping up supplies and knowledge. "Why don't you tell me what you already know and I'll see if I can explain the rest of them?"

She always finds it better to start with what her student knows and then work up from that rather than jump right in and risk going over something they already know. Besides, then she can get an idea of what the woman is looking for.

"I know that aloe can soothe the skin and lavender aids in sleep. Willow bark can treat head aches and other pains. Rosemary...I can't remember what purpose rosemary has, I only know what rosemary looks like." She blushes, knowing how ignorant she appears. "I learned a little from the books in the Vatican, but I didn't study them carefully." Not enough to help her now.

"Would you allow help with your garden?" It's asked shyly, grateful to meet someone that understood plants and their properties. It was something she had a mind to explore and learn about, but hadn't found the time before. Now she had nothing but time stretching before her. "What else do I have?"

Beverly doesn't think she sounds ignorant at all. In fact a lot of people she knows wouldn't even be able to identify the plants, let alone list off any properties and uses they have. Lucrezia's already gotten a head start on a lot of people.

"I would love that," she answers honestly. "Between you and Wanda, I'll have the best help I could ask for. And once things have bloomed and are ready to be cut and used, I can teach you more than what's been growing wild."

The more knowledge passed around, the better. And she won't turn down an able and willing student.

"Rosemary has a variety of uses, but it's most commonly used for digestion and circulation, to settle your stomach or to help your blood circulate through your body. It's also good to use in aromatherapy. Sometimes the smell is calming to people and helps memory and concentration."

As for the rest, there are a few interesting ones, pointing them out as she goes. "Goldenrod, thistle, tiger-lily. You've got a wide variety here."

"I would like to create a book that lists the plants found in the forest, as well as their uses." So long as she could find something better than the charred wood that she had been using as a drawing tool. "It would be useful for those that aren't familiar with them."

It was a relief to hear her encouragement and offer to help. There was little that she could offer this village that others seemed to. Hard labor, farming, cooking, cleaning, all of it was beyond her experience. This, however, it was simple but provided so much support and help for the sick and injured. She wouldn't feel so slothful or useless.

She sniffed the rosemary, closing her eyes to give her sense of smell more potency. Yes, there was a fragrant perfume about it. "I imagine there is more in the forest further in that I won't recognize, but I don't want to wander too far from the village."

She regarded Beverly thoughtfully, "You seem to know a great deal about medicine. Were you a midwife?"

"It's a good idea. Have you talked to Peeta? He was doing something similar not long ago. He might like help." Not that she knows he won't be around much longer, but maybe it's something Lucrezia could take over for him. Either way, it's a good idea and Beverly approves of trying to keep it going.

"We could go in together sometime," Beverly offers easily. "I try to do a round of gathering nearly every morning. It's something of a habit by now." If anything happens, she's capable of getting them out of it, with any luck. Besides, they could use it as a teaching tool. How to recognize and identify wild plants.

Her lips twist just slightly with amusement. "Something similar. I'm a doctor. I help diagnose and treat people for all kinds of illnesses usually, but I've delivered more than a few babies. My grandmother was a healer. She learned all about medicinal plants and herbs and she passed it all on to me."

"I haven't." He has a strange enough name that she would recognize him if she had. It was a little frustrating that someone else had come up with the idea, but it seemed to have been an unfinished project. Despite her poor ability, it was at least something for her, even if no one else wanted it.

"Is it safe?" There seemed to be a number of strange things in the village, enough that she knew to be wary about where she wandered and how far she traveled from her bungalow. However, if she were with someone else, wouldn't she be safer? "Will you teach me to plant as well? I should like to have a garden of my own."

The concept was shocking, but oddly encouraging. Lucrezia had a dislike for the physicians in Rome, finding them to be incompetent men, far more interested in prestige than knowing how to treat diseases. That a woman bypassed them was thrilling, as it meant she could as well. "I have been trying to learn how to heal as well."

"As long as you go with someone who knows botany and can tell you which plants to stay away from," she points out. "I don't want to have to deal with cases of poison ivy, but if you go with me, I'll teach you how to tell the difference."

She heads into the woods every morning to harvest what she can find anyway. Teaching someone else how to tell the difference between the good plants and the bad ones will definitely be a good use of her time.

"Of course I will," she says warmly. "Gardening is a skill we all can use here. As is medicine. Anything I know that you want to learn, I'd be happy to teach you. We can start with the plants we find in the wild and move up to medicinal uses as we go. How does that sound?"

"I should like that very much, only so long as we do not venture far." Even though she had Beverley's reassurance, she couldn't bring herself to consider going further than the edges of the forest.

Eventually she would need to find the courage to explore, but there was a difference between these woods and the woods of the Sforza estate. "I had heard strange things about the forest."

She nodded eagerly. "I should like that very much. I knew a few salves and plants that can be mixed together. Perhaps we will receive seeds as well?" If the observers were kind. "Lemon grass, lavender, honey suckles."

"Only as far as you're comfortable," Beverly assures her. If she'd had a phaser to hold with her, she would also be more likely to want to dig deeper into the forest than she has so far, so she can understand Lucrezia's hesitance. Especially in a place like this, where things can change in an instant.

"You might. I found a whole box of them once. It's entirely possible that there might be more someday."

"I have heard stories of the forest and I know that there are creatures in it. I prefer to remain in relative safety in the village. I am afraid I don't have any experience with blades or conflict."

She smiled, "May I come tomorrow to see your garden?"

"I'll admit I don't have much experience with blades, either, beyond kitchen use. But conflict... unfortunately yes." They use stunning technology in Starfleet. There's much less risk of accidental death and far less damage done to anyone they're trying to subdue.

"I'd like that," she agrees with a smile. "Maybe sometime in the early evening or late afternoon?" She can guarantee she'll be around the house then.

"It's okay, you were intent on your drawings." Sansa offered an apologetic smile even as her eyes danced warmly with amusement while she settled in the chair across from Lucrezia. Once she was comfortable, she set a small bit of fabric on the table in front of her and produced an already threaded needle that she had tucked into it for when she wanted to continue her project.

Finding the spot where she had last left off, she looked up briefly. "It's a shirt with a large pocket on the front. I thought it would be good for anyone out in the forest foraging for anything. Or if they simply wanted to carry something small without actually bringing a bag."

Then she looked at the papers curiously. "What are you working on?"

She grinned at Sansa, brushing a lock of her gold hair from her face, leaving a smear of soot across her brow. Her project was not going as easily as she hoped, but there was at least a simple design of the plants she had found, if only to act as a basic record. Until she managed to find better charcoal, she would be forced to stomach her crude designs.

Her eyes flew across Sansa's work, admiring her work and tiny stitches. She was a talented seamstress, a sign of her good upbringing. "A pocket on the front?" She wasn't certain about the design of it. While she didn't want to criticize her friend's ideas, it didn't create a pretty picture in her mind. "Wouldn't it draw the eye too much? Why not tucked within the folds?"

She lightly fingered the fabric. It was rough and coarse, clearly meant for those that focused on difficult labor. "Is it for your brother?" She glanced down at the paper, a grimace at her poor work. "I was trying to sketch the plants I found as a record for what is in the woods, but I am no real artist."

Sansa tracked the movement of Zia's fingers and her lips part as she started to tell her about the black mark but stopped while her friend continued to speak. Distracted briefly, she glanced down at the shirt that she was making as she shrugged a little. "I wish that I could make it more fashionable but that isn't the purpose of it. With fabric being scarce, I don't want to waste any of it on little details."

And she sounded truly pained over the idea but she was trying to be sensible rather than fashionable. There was a chance that it was a foolish idea but she thought maybe her aunt would like it. Or perhaps her father.

But now she found herself frowning at the fabric, chewing at her bottom lip as she started to think that maybe it was a stupid idea. She wasn't so far gone on it yet that she couldn't undo it all and start anew. Glancing up to the blonde, she smiled gently and leaned forward to look at the book. "I think you're doing well. Perhaps you could take a small part of the different plants and press them between the pages?"

She saw her error on the face of her friend and reached out to grab hold of Sansa's hand. "Forgive me. It's a very clever idea and I think it will be lovely when it's finished. I know not everyone has baskets or means to carry back the foraged plants. Don't let me ruin it for you."

Lucrezia turned the drawing in her hand, looking down at it with obvious disapproval. "Perhaps. I wanted to practice my sketching as well. I was given basic lessons, but not enough to be a true artist. There isn't much I can do to help. Keeping records seemed like the best idea." But she wasn't sure. Somehow, she still felt slothful.

It was something that she could try to improve on later, for now, another idea struck her. She pulled out another piece of paper, leaning closer to Sansa. "Could I sketch you perhaps? So long as you don't mind my lack of skill? You have such pretty features. You should have someone capture your likeness."

Sansa paused as the other woman reached out to stop her from changing the shirt she had been working on. "No, you're right, it's probably a silly idea. It would be better to just make them into bags for people to use. That would be a more useful idea."

Wetting her lips, she looked down at the shirt as she considered what she had already done and how she could adjust it to her new plan. It wouldn't be nearly so hard as she first imagined but it would still take some time. "I think it's a good idea. If you have a rough sketch of the plant along with notes, it would still be helpful for people to use. I would use it."

She stopped with a look of surprise then. "You want to sketch me? Truly?"

"No, I don't think so at all. I think it is very clever." She said quickly, hoping to chase away Sansa's doubt. "Please, don't listen to me. A bag might be lost while I pocket won't be. At least finish what you are creating and let your brother decide?"

It was kind of her to compliment her rough sketches, all the while struggling with the garment she had been working on. It wasn't something Lucrezia could allow. "I would use your shirt as well...if I were to go further into the forest."

Lucrezia nodded, "Of course. You have such lovely features. I am passing in artistic merit, but I might be able to at least sketch a bit of a likeness. Only as long as you promise not to be offended by my flaws." She toyed with the charred wood in her hand. "I would need charcoal, otherwise I will smudge the portrait."

"Okay." Sansa conceded with an easy smile, relaxing her shoulders when Zia convinced her to continue the shirt and to let one of her brothers decide. Maybe if they didn't want it, she would use it while she was out with her aunt in the forest. "It'll be nice to see if it would work or not."

Then she looked surprised at the idea that her new friend might want to wear the shirt. "Are you sure? I could make you a far more comfortable one or even one with better pockets hidden in folds? Maybe a dress?"

"If there are any flaws with the drawing, it would be my own and not yours." She replied with a kind smile before nodding. "But yes, you may go ahead and sketch me. I would like to see it after."

"I imagine that your brothers would be grateful for it." Or anyone else that gathered vegetation in the forest. The more she considered it, the more she recognized how clever an idea it was. Her pampered sense of style and luxury had gotten the better of her. Now she felt nothing but shame for having made Sansa doubt her idea. Gently, she reached out and place her hand on Sansa's arm, giving her a sweet smile.

"A dress? Yes, I think I should like that very much." She despised the scrubs and would wear the same gown for a week rather than go back to what she arrived in. "My fabric won't last for much longer, but I have enough for another dress."

She giggled, "Not at all. You are beautiful. The only flaw comes from my lack of charcoal." As well as her amateur status as an artist. "I should have paid better attention during my lessons."

But Sansa didn't seem to hold Lucrezia's original reaction against her because she would have likely reacted the same just a few months before. She had been used to luxury and style as well, especially when it came to the clothes she would make but life in the village has changed that. She has learned to appreciate functionality over design though there are days when she wishes she could go back to designing clothes to impress.

"I have a lot of fabric left over too." Which is the truth since she had received quite a bit over the holidays when everyone had mysteriously gotten a pile of gifts from everyone else. "Perhaps you could come over and pick out the fabric you would like? I also have quite a bit of makeup that I haven't touched yet."

Feeling a bit of warmth creep into her cheeks, she ducks her head briefly with a small smile before glancing up again. "You could look at this time as being a chance to hone your skills all by yourself. I'm sure with a bit of practice, you would find improvement in your drawing."

"Thank you." Her smile is brilliant as she considered the different gowns she could make. However impractical the designs were, she was comfortable in them. Beauty still mattered more to her than practicality. Perhaps it shouldn't be such a priority, but it seemed impossible to relinquish. Sansa at least seemed to understand.

"I imagine the makeup is different than the powders and vermilion that I would normally use." She had fair skin, something that was prized, which meant that she didn't need very much. "Would you show me how to use it?"

She certainly hoped so. There wasn't a need for artists in the village, as survival mattered more. It didn't matter though. She needed something for herself and this would keep her optimistic in the face of being away from her family. "I only hope the Observers will be kind and give me charcoal and parchment. This charcoal wood is crude."

Glancing up at Sansa, she smiled. "With how beautiful you are, you must have an admirer in the village?"

"I still don't know how to use all of it but I'm sure that we could figure it out between the two of us." Sansa smiled kindly again, thinking about the different things that were in the box that had arrived with the makeup. She hadn't touched most of the items yet, so she was more than willing to share.

"That would be nice. Maybe they would give you quite a bit to keep you occupied for awhile." She thought about the things she had been given by the Observers, her favorite being Akira who was nearly her constant companion these days.

Then Lucrezia asked about an admirer which caused Sansa to blush as she ducked her head a little. "Yes, though he is more than an admirer."

"We might have to test it on each other, paint each other as if we were canvases." She had a habit of letting her romanticism take control and the thought of enhancing Sansa's beauty appealed to that part of her.

"I worry that I am not occupied enough." She frowned as her thumb smudged what was meant to be Sansa's cheekbone. "So many others hunt or gather or raise animals, but I don't know how to do any of that. I had thought to learn more about plants and medicine, but is that enough to earn my keep?"

She grinned, setting down her pad of paper as she leaned forward. "Who is he? Is he your lover?"

Moana didn’t know what to do. She had been frantic that morning, watching as the soft green heartbeat within the stone began to flicker and dim. At times, she was sure that the heart was going to become dormant or die. "No. Please don’t leave me." She whispered into her palm willing as much of herself into the heart of Te Fiti as she could but nothing happened.

She couldn’t bring herself to go out that day. Instead she sat in her room at the inn and watched as the heart’s glow fluttered. Itiiti snorted softly, wanting to leave the room. Eventually, Moana complied and opened the door for the little piglet to do as he wished.

Instead of leaving he circled back and began to head-butt Moana’s heels. "Fine. I’ll go." She didn’t sound too happy about it but she left her room and padded down to the inn’s common space with Itiiti at her heels. She paused when her eyes landed on Lucrezia. She’d already told her about the heart and quite frankly, Moana didn’t know who else to talk to. She walked over and sat at the table, holding the spiral stone in her hand like a fire that was about to go out.

Itiiti snorted in disapproval but any further head-butts against her ankle didn’t make her move. When Lucrezia looked up at her Moana thought she might cry. First Jyn had been taken, now Jean was gone and then the heart… "The heart… is dying." She spoke softly as she slowly uncurled her fingers to show the other woman the dimmed light in her palm.

The look on Moana's face was enough for Lucrezia to forget her work. Despite the black soot on her fingers, she reached out to clasp Moana's shoulder. Gently, she pulled her into a hug, trying to offer what little comfort she could. Moana had spoken of the heart before, enough that Lucrezia knew how much it meant to her. While she didn't completely understand its magic, she felt for her friend.

To be given something from home well loved and precious, only to have it taken away, it had to be difficult to bear. She didn't have to suffer it alone, at least. "The heart...why would it suddenly die?" Was something drain it or taking the magic from the stone?

Her fingers glided lightly over it, tracing the spiral, willing it back to life. "I'm so sorry. What will happen?" Would it harm Moana at all? How closely was she tied to it. "How did you come by it in this place? We came with nothing from our worlds."

Moana moved like paper pushed by the wind, falling into Lucrezia’s arms and resting gently in the woman’s hug. She liked hugging and knowing that she wasn’t alone helped though it didn’t completely erase the pain, worry and uncertainty that filled her heart. The light of the heart was fading and Moana didn’t know what it meant. She had reached it before, called out to the heart with her own, and it had responded. Now… now it was just a rock.

At the question Moana shook her head, giving herself time to put strength into her voice. "I don’t know. It had been dormant before, when I first found it but I could always make it glow." She could make it live.

"I found it beneath the waterfall. A few weeks ago now." She looked down at the heart as she spoke. "I don’t know how it found me here. The ocean had given it to me, that’s how I first got it… I thought that maybe the ocean was returning it." That it somehow found her here.

She had always been shielded and protected by her brother, finding solace in his arms and hugs. She knew how much it meant to feel that there was someone offering strength and comfort. Moana didn't seem to have family here, much like Lucrezia. If they were without family, they would have to give that comfort to each other.

"Perhaps this world has drained it?" It seemed possible. There was a great deal of darkness in this place. While it wasn't a literal darkness, there was a looming sense of danger and chaos. Perhaps to stave it off, it needed the stone?

"Maybe it was a gift from an observer? They seem to hear wishes. If you were longing for home, they returned a piece of it to you." It was a thought, however unlikely it was. She might at least find comfort in it.

Moana's grip around the heart tightened as she pulled it against her chest. "If it was a gift... then why is it fading?" Her voice was tense as hysterics threatened Moana's rational thought. She knew that there was more to it, a reason that the heart had arrived and that she had found it but why was it dying.

"It's her heart." Moana's voice lowered to a whisper and her head dropped. She didn't know why she was telling Lucrezia this. Perhaps because she had no one else to talk to and she didn't know what else to do. "I can't fail, I can't." Her voice cracked and Moana knew that she was close to crying.

She didn't want to cry.

"And if it's drained..." She continued, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "Then there is no way to save my island."

She didn't want to speak her mind and further add to Moana's fears. A part of her believed, though couldn't prove, that it was brought into this world for a reason. That possibly, it's power was being used for something else...though what, she couldn't say.

"Perhaps it won't matter, if it is returned to your world? Maybe it will be returned to the moment it was taken, unchanged and full of power?" Just as they were when they returned to their time, as she had been told.

She hugged Moana closer.

"Don't give up hope yet. We don't know yet if it isn't the same for the stone as it is for us."

Moana nodded her head softly, feeling a numb sort of fear settle in her stomach. There was no way for her to confirm that the heart would return with her. She hoped but hope could only get you so far. Even if it didn't return with her, what could Moana possibly do about it? She didn't know how they got here or if she could get back on her own volition.

Her face pressed gently against Lucrezia's shoulder. The hug helped. It made Moana feel like she was a little bit stronger.

She slowly pulled away, the heart cradled against her chest as she looked down at it. "I won't give up." Not yet. "Thank you…"

Moana paused, a thought rattling restlessly around her head. She looked up at her friend, her lips twisting at their edges as she let her thoughts settled into place. "Would you come with me to the falls? Maybe there is something there. Something that I might have missed." Having an extra pair of eyes would help.

She hesitated, uncertain about wandering far from the village. While she had spent time in the woods, hunting and riding before, this world was different. Strange things happened and there was little reason to doubt that there might be something lurking in the darkness.

"I'm not certain it's wise." She glanced out the window apprehensively. "How deep in the woods are the falls?"

She didn't want to be a coward. A Borgia never cowered, but she was wise enough to know her limitations. If there was something in the woods, she would not be able to fight it herself.

Moana had been to the falls many times but they were right next to the woods which were often deemed unsafe. "The water fall is at the canyon wall. It's next to the forest, at the end of the river." She bit at her lower lip.

"It isn't completely unsafe." She had traveled a fair amount through the woods and around the falls and canyon wall.

She was stubborn and familiar with getting herself in and out of dangerous situations.

She shook her head. It was deep enough to dissuade Lucrezia from wandering away from the safety of the inn. What little she had come to understand about this world was that it was dangerous and full of curious things. The woods themselves were not entirely normal.

It was unwise to leave, despite wishing to help Moana.

"I wouldn't know how to protect myself against wild animals."

Moana knew a few people who were scared of the woods. She also knew a few people that thought that men should do work that both sexes could perform. It wasn't something that she understood since everything in her village was equally shared. It was true that women tended to gravitate towards certain tasks but they could fish or build if they wanted too.

At the same time, Moana knew that she was odd. Even compared to those on her island.

"I'll look then and let you know what I find." She had a spear that she took with her into the woods. Moana wasn't afraid but she was more careful after being attacked by a bear.

Living in Rome and in her mother's palazzo had not prepared her for the wilderness. As much as she wished to learn to protect herself, as she had in the Sforza estate, it seemed impossible to with the odds against her. She couldn't hunt or fight, as some women seemed capable of. It was better to have a care of where she went, if only to lessen the risk of coming across something that could harm her.

She nodded, a bit disappointed that she couldn't see the falls herself, but knowing it was the right decision.

"Perhaps someday I will be able to go as well. Be safe."

Moana nodded her head, pushing herself up to her feet. "I will." She promised in a soft voice before she turned to go. She felt a tinge of disappear settle in her chest as she slipped the heart back into the blue shell necklace but she had hope now, thanks to Lucrezia. She had to try one last time.

Gracchus knows few of the plants here for their medicinal purposes, though he's familiar with what the Greek philosophers say about rosemary. He's not certain what the young woman has them all there for, spread out across the table, not until he sees how intently she's focused on what she's doing with the paper.

He's not used to seeing people drawing, and it takes him a few moments of curious scrutiny to realize what it is she's doing.

"You were watching what you were doing," he says. "You do not need to apologize."

She smiled shyly, setting down her makeshift charcoal, her fingers aching. Her focus had blocked out any discomfort she felt in stooping over the table or tightly holding the charred wood. She flexed her fingers, trying to work out the cramp. "For all the good it did me." Her palm had smudged the lines, blotching her skin with soot.

"Please, sit with me." She was eager to meet the others in the village, but the earthquake had been distracting enough. "I'm Lucrezia Borgia."

He had a chiseled face, one made for marble and stone. If she had the skill of artisans, perhaps she would make a bust of him or later a proper sketch, but she had little skill and was already failing at capturing these leaves and plants. "I am sorry we haven't met until now."

So many things were done differently here than he was used to, like the fact that a well-spoken young woman could invite a stranger to sit with her in a tavern, but Gracchus was growing accustomed to the new ways of doing things. A politician, after all, always had to adapt to a situation if he were to be any good at what he did, and Gracchus had not always adapted as well as he should.

"Lucrezia," he repeated, testing the sound of the name, because it was very nearly familiar: a small difference in pronunciation between that and Lucretia, the name of the women of the famous family, whose ancestor had been one of the first consuls. She had the fair coloring, though, that was unusual in Rome, and she spoke English.

It was all more than interesting enough to make him happy to accept her invitation to join her.

"We can make amends for it now. I am Gaius Sempronius Gracchus. It is pleasing to meet you."

She was used to holding audiences of some sort, having hosted a few nobles alongside her mother when she was younger. There had always been a free and easy nature about her, which had later been a determent. But even if with those experiences, she didn't want to lose that friendliness that had been so much a part of her. Instead, she smiled and trusted that there was something kind about him.

His accent sounded harsher and rougher than those that she was used to in Rome. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to pronounce her name differently, but she simply assumed she misheard him. There was no mistaking though that he had the same inflections and pronunciations of men common in the Italian kingdoms.

His name caused her to bleak in astonishment. The name was pure Roman, ancient and familiar to her. Quickly, she switched to Italian. "Gracchus? That name is one I think I have heard before. You are Roman?"

His family was an old one, not one of the first to hold the consulship, but distinguished, and consular, and his father had been a great of his time in the city of Rome. Tiberius the elder had been respected even by his enemies, which neither of his sons seemed to have managed. It had been more unusual to him that people her hadn't heard of him, or at least his family, than that someone should.

It had been so long since anybody had shown any sign of recognition, though, that he felt his heart give a wild leap of joy. Her questions weren't quite what he was used to: the pronunciation different, the words and formations not those of Latin, but he did recognize some of them, from the book Kate Kelly had given him and that he'd spent so long studying while he learned English, because it was the closest thing to a Latin reference he had.

"Roman, yes," he replied, the words simple because he hadn't yet actually had to speak Italian, and he wasn't certain how much facility with it his study of the dictionary had given him.

His face, though, showed his excitement clearly, and he'd leaned a little forward towards her, eyes alight.

Roman. How had she forgotten what the language of Rome was before the Empire had fallen? Perhaps it should be strange to her that there was a man from the Roman era speaking with her. But after meeting so many from different places and times, it was almost a relief to find someone that she was at least familiar with. Was it through Plutarch? It was hard to remember now, as her studies were less enthralling to her than the myths she was told.

Latin, thankfully, had received more attention. It wasn't difficult to switch to the language. "Are you familiar with Plutarch?" Her pronunciation was passing. Cesare was far better, but as a Cardinal, he had more reason to practice. "I think your family name was mentioned in his book."

She would never forget translating Parallel Lives from Latin to Italian and then to Spanish. Her fingers still instinctively cramped, the memory of the quill clutched tightly in her hand not far from her mind. "Rome is my home as well."

Poison Is a Woman's Weapon

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Te Fiti's Light Going Out

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