Working for Francesco Pazzi was the last place she expected to find herself. She expected even less to grow to like the job. Falling for him was the biggest surprise of all.
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Word Count: 1180
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We spent the afternoon alone in his study while his uncle was busy scheming at the bank. Francesco artfully contrived a letter to send to Sforza, pretending to be a local magistrate that caught me on private property. According to the letter, I had been tortured for information, and I gave up only the name of Sforza's advisor. Unfortunately, I succumbed to my injuries in prison a few days later. All future attempts to spy on Florentine families for whatever gain—personal or political—were strongly warned against.
The letter was well crafted, but it still wasn't convincing enough. "Messer," I started after reading over the letter. "What if he doesn't believe it? It's not like we can prove that I'm actually dead."
"Yes, I thought of that." Francesco set the quill back in its holder and folded up the letter. After slipping the paper into a larger envelope, he did not reach for a wax seal just yet. "I have one more task for you tonight. It will help prove your death."
The way he smirked, I wasn't sure I was going to like this final task.
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"Francesco, this is madness," I hissed as we snuck through the sleeping streets under cover of darkness.
"What happened to 'Messer?' Have you lost all respect for me?" he taunted, but there was little threat in his tone.
"I think if you actually make me do this tonight, I should be able to call you whatever I please."
"I'm not asking you to kill anyone."
"No, you're just asking me to condemn my soul."
"I'm sure the good Lord will forgive you. After all, you're being forced." The way he glanced at me with a playful look in his eye, I didn't feel forced. I felt patronized.
We reached the church at midnight exactly. Not a soul was out save for a few guards patrolling the streets. Rather than go to the sanctuary though, Francesco led me to the back of the church to a little wooden door that gave in with only one swift kick from his boot.
"This is a crime," I grunted, still adamantly opposed to what we were about to do. "A crime against God."
"It's a crime that hard-working men have to pay the church an arm and a leg to be promised eternal life. Stop moaning and come on."
He ducked into the back part of the church, leading me into a little room. Lying on a table, just as Francesco promised, a dead woman sat out on display. I held back my revile, but it wasn't the first dead body I had seen. Living on the streets for most of my life meant I had seen my fair share of sickness and death.
"No one knows who she is. They found her in the river, dead from exposure."
"The poor woman," I breathed.
"You can say a prayer for her later. For now..." I jumped at the sound of his knife unsheathing. "You know what you have to do."
"Yes." I sighed heavily. "I do. Though, I still don't agree with it at all."
"Hurry up and do it."
With gritted teeth, an aching stomach, and a small tremor in my hand, I stepped up to the table. Looking over the woman, I said a prayer in my heart for her as well as for me. I would need much forgiveness for this. I gently lifted her cold, dead hand, finding her slender pinky and separating it from her other fingers. Francesco huffed impatiently behind me, so I quickly closed my eyes and flicked the blade through flesh and bone. It came off easier than I expected, as if the bone had gone soft. It had been like slicing through a carrot.
I turned around with the pinky pinched between my thumb and index finger. "God forgive me," I breathed.
"Put it away. Let's go."
"Wait." I handed him the knife, then pulled off the ring on my own pinky to transfer to the dead one. "It's the only momento I have from my parents, but it will help convince Sforza that this is actually my finger."
"That shouldn't be necessary." His lips pursed. I wasn't sure if he actually didn't think the ring necessary or if he pitied me in his own way.
"If I'm going to commit a sin against a dead woman and God, I should at least make sure it wasn't for nothing." I held out the finger for him to take. "And I also refuse to carry this back."
"Excuse me?"
I eyed the finger with disgust. "You may have made me cut it off, but you could at least be the gentleman and carry it back. I don't want to look at the thing anymore, let alone touch it."
"Very well." He pocketed the finger, though I could have sworn I saw him smirking as he took it. He found my dread amusing. I found it appalling.
As we walked together for part of the way back, the weight in my chest began to lift little by little. I let out a small relieved sigh that caught Francesco's attention.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm just starting to feel a little free. I think your plan could work."
"You hated working for him, didn't you."
"The man found someone new to kill every week, even if there was no one left to pin something on. He gets bored without death. It was only a matter of time till I displeased him in some way."
It went without saying that I had traded one master for another, but I hoped my new one was not so brutal. The fact that he had agreed so easily to carry the finger and spare me some discomfort gave me a little hope that Francesco Pazzi had a noble and honorable heart. The first day I met him, he had exuded nothing but good character at the joust, accepting defeat and jousting armorless just to prove his honor. My opinion of him dimmed when he ambushed me in the alley, but there was no crime in being cunning.
"Alice." His voice rumbled deep and sure.
"Yes?"
"I hope you won't despise working for me. I don't intend to abuse your service. If anything, I hope we might come to trust and respect each other. Loyalty is very important to me."
I eyed him from the side. His face was half illuminated by the moon, but the shadows from the other half of his face only accentuated the hard lines and jagged edges. His eyes seemed to swim with deep thoughts I longed to know.
"I hope for that too," I said softly after a moment had passed. "Though, I'm beginning to respect you already." I walked ahead a little faster as my apartment came into view. Before leaving him, I added, "Even if you did make me commit a heinous crime."
Francesco chuckled darkly behind me. The sound caused gooseflesh to break out on my arms, though not from fear. From intrigue.
