ｖｉｄｅｏ.

[matre]

Ah!

[ her little exclamation of surprise has all the delight of a child discovering something new. vanozza looks off-camera for a moment to someone who remains unseen as if to say, "Look! I did it!" her broad smile settles into something more controlled when she returns to the tablet.

vanozza has her dark hair plaited back. she wears her red silks again, dry now, for she knew she was to address the network. a rosary lies around her neck, the cross tucked into the bosom of her gown. ]

What a curious toy! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Vanozza. [ her family name she withholds. she knows not who may be listening. ]

As I am sure we are all occupied, I will make this brief: I require a seamstress from whom to commission several gowns. I have one with me that may serve as a template.

A maid, too, to assist me with daily chores. Nothing difficult, I assure you. Matter of payment can be arranged after meeting.

[ her son will be vetting applicants fyi. ]

Lastly, directions to a church. A chapel will be as welcome. [ she only seeks the peace of one. her son is a cardinal; her sins are forgiven. ]

So many youths gathered here. [ she had again looked off-camera, her smile fond, before speaking. as she returns her attention to the tablet, the smile adopts a wry turn. ] Perhaps I should be honored to be an exception.

Comments

[wolfskin]

[ seeing that cesare's mother seems to adore him, he feels pretty damn safe.

robb, being the good guest he is, accepts the glass graciously taking a swift sip. he does not press the need to break bread, for these people likely do not safe that custom yet it presses his against his mind.

nevertheless he smiles at the sight of vanozza at his direwolf. ]

Aye, I shall once I figure it out myself. [ another sip. ] Your lady mother has the courage of a dozen men or more, most shy from him in fear and yet she approaches him like a dear friend.

[matre]

[ as she returns to the table, she walks around cesare, her hand briefly touching his shoulder. she claims her seat and looks to be served some wine as well. ]

Perhaps that was their mistake. Make him into a terrible beast, should they be surprised when he bites?

[cesar]

[ He takes a sip too once Robb does, the smallest one, before setting the glass back on the table to wait for his mother to join them. ]

Do we become what others expect us to be, mother?

[ Obliging, he moves to pour her a generous glass of wine. ]

What would that make us?

[wolfskin]

[ grey wind appears content to remain where he is, indulging in the meat gifted to him before laying his head on the floor with a exhale of breath. now he watches, the king's hand and protector, watches in silences.

robb places his own glass onto the table at vanozza's joining, biting back the smile her words bring. ]

Sometimes we must. [ why yes he doesn't speak from experience. ]

[matre]

[ a coy little smile curls vanozza's lips. she takes the time to turn her glass, seemingly examining the color of the wine. what would that make them, indeed. robb's addition has her lifting her eyes to him. ]

Is that what made you king?

[cesar]

[ But the trick is to take on the mask yet remain something different entirely. They call the Borgias many names but they are all of that and more, far more. A wild card. Cesare occupies himself with his wine, turning to Robb to hear his answer. ]

[wolfskin]

Aye, it is. [ his answer is honest, for there is no reason to lie. how he became king is no secret to hoard to his chest, it is known all over Westeros, or variants of it, he sees no danger in being truthful for them. ]

[matre]

[ you sweet, sweet summer child. ]

What would you have been if not for your people?

[cesar]

[ His thoughts exactly, mom. Cesare hides his amused chuckle behind a sip of wine; it would be rude otherwise. ]

A pleasant company for my mother, I hazard.

[wolfskin]

Aye, I surely hope so.

[ not his fault he has only seen the pleasant side of you guys. huff! ]

I would have been Lord of Winterfell like my father before me, had a crown never touched my head. [ among other things. ]

[matre]

[ winterfell. now there is a name. ]

Any father would be proud. Your mother too I'm sure.

[cesar]

[ Cesare spins his glass absently, seemingly more interested in the ripples on the wine than the table. But he's listening carefully. ]

Where lies the difference between a lord and a king, Your Grace?

[wolfskin]

[ an odd question, before he remembers they are not of his land, even so. ]

My homeland consists of Seven Kingdoms, each with a ruling family and lord, all are under the rule of the Iron Throne and the king who sits upon it. The high lords of each kingdom defer only to the king and king alone. [ a beat. ] In some ways there is little difference, only the lords keep the peace and see to their lands only instead of all Seven Kingdoms.

[matre]

But the North does not bend the knee.

[cesar]

Because you would be King.

[ That comes out sounding provocative, but does he care? Spoilers: he doesn't ]

That sounds much like our predicament, does it not, mother? The Papal States are under the Holy Father's rule and yet they would deny us tithes.

[wolfskin]

The Lannister boy upon the Iron Throne killed my father Eddard Stark claiming him traitor to the crown, the North loved him greatly. They hold my sister hostage and expect me to kiss his arse. [ still mad? yup. still super mad. ] Upon my father's unjust and wrongful death they decided they no longer wished to be ruled by the Iron Throne and named me King in the North.

Before the kingdoms were united the North was ruled by kings, my people have always followed the old ways and want nothing more than to return to them.

[ he looks to cesare, expression mostly unreadable, and shakes his head. ]

I do not believe our situations similar, we do not rebel for rebellion's sake. I marched to save my father and sisters, now that he is dead I march to for my people. My father is not the only man killed wrongly by the Lannisters, there are whispers that the late king's death was brought on by his queen. I do not wish the Irone Throne, however even I can see all will suffer should Lannister blood remain on the throne.

[matre]

[ anger. vengeance. pride. inability to forgive. all of which, she understands. yet he sounds more like a child throwing a tantrum than a king. too much passion and he will burn. ]

So you will remove the stain from the throne. But thrones do not remain empty long. Whom will you sit upon it if not yourself?

[cesar]

[ Honor he finds difficult to comprehend but revenge is as familiar to him as love and ambition. But many powerful men have called vengeance a rightful cause to plunder another's estate and there is no honor there however you put it. Agamemnon had no care for Helen, the only woman he ever wanted was Troy, and Cesare wouldn't blame him either.

Still he nods to his mother. ]

Can you find another more honorable than yourself?

[wolfskin]

[ Robb's brow furrows and Grey Wind makes a noise from his place, a whine or grunt it is hard to tell, ears perk up attentively. ]

I cannot claim to know the honor of any man, even if he claims to be so. The late king had two brothers, if any should claim the throne it would be one of them. [ Stannis, perhaps, as unloved as he is. someone strong and unlikely to bow before the lions and their gold. ]

[matre]

[ brothers feuding. she takes her time sipping at her wine, and examining its hue. ]

[cesar]

[ Vanozza's response doesn't go unnoticed, though he says nothing regardless, letting the silence linger to weigh on them all with some sadistic glee. The tension doesn't bother him. Rather he revels in it, that devilish smirk still fixed on his face. It might feel like forever until he breaks the silence with a soft thud of his glass set against the table. ]

The eldest son. Surely.

[wolfskin]

[ nor does it go past Robb unnoticed, he weighs the silence heavily and watches them both with Tully blue eyes. it feels as if he is being judged, it is a familiar feeling he has felt once before. ]

Aye, that is how the laws of succession go.

[matre]

[ far too practiced, she retains her amiability even as her questions shift. ]

According to men or God, Your Grace?

[cesar]

[ Judged, or asked to judge. Cesare says no more, turning his gaze to Robb to wait for his response. His mother already knows all he has to say on the matter of succession. ]