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Two days had crawled by since the attack on the Medici family during their journey to Florence, and the household had remained thick with tension ever since. Catalina paced her chambers restlessly, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon her. Her once vibrant home felt more like a fortress now, crowded with General Sforza and his stern-faced men, their presence a constant reminder of the fragility of their security. Her mother seemed to have become even more consumed by the family's business affairs, her usually warm demeanour replaced by a steely resolve. And then there was her sister, slipping away under the cloak of night to meet her clandestine lover, adding another layer of frustration to Catalina's already fraught nerves.

The events of this afternoon were what finally promoted her to action though, when Lorenzo returned from the Pazzi's without any sign of Giuliano. The news that those who had orchestrated her brother's imprisonment might be the same ones responsible for the attack on their family was her breaking point. She could no longer bear the stifling confines of their home, the walls closing in around her like a vice.

As the evening sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting a warm glow over the sprawling Medici estate, Catalina finally allowed herself to sink into the plush cushions of her bed, as her lady's maid bustled about the room. 

"Sit up, Madonna, your shoulder needs tending to," the dark-haired girl quipped as settled down beside her mistress. 

Catalina sighed, "How many times have I told you not to call me that, Sofia."

"It would be improper, Madonna."

"But—"

"Don't argue, and let me just fix you up!"

The arrow wound on her shoulder throbbed dully and as Sofia carefully unwound the blood-stained bandages, Catalina winced against the sting of exposed flesh, her jaw clenched in a tight line as she fought to keep her composure. The maid's touch was gentle yet firm, her expression a mask of quiet concern as she worked to cleanse the wound with a mixture of herbal salves and warm water.

Next was the cut on her forehead, which was already beginning to heal. The surgeon's handiwork had been meticulous, the seven stitches holding together the jagged gash a testament to his skill, yet the scar would remain, Bianca and her mother's dismay. 

Catalina didn't mind scars though, not really. They were a badge of honour, a symbol of survival in the face of overwhelming adversity. Like the callouses that lined her brother's palms from years of sparring, they spoke of resilience and strength.

Once the task was done, Sofia moved to help her dress for bed, her nimble fingers deftly fastening the laces of her nightgown, but as she smoothed the fabric over her shoulders, the young Medici's thoughts drifted to a rebellious request.

"Sofia," she began, her voice soft yet resolute, "there is something I wish to ask of you."

The maid paused in her ministrations, her dark eyes meeting Catalina's with apprehension as if she already knew what she was going to ask, "Not again, my lady."

"You haven't even heard my request yet."

"Nor shall I have to. I have heard it plenty of times before."

"Sofia, please."

"I cannot let you dress in my clothes and help you sneak out. Not after what happened last time."

"Nothing happened!" Catalina protested.

"I beg to differ."

"I am not even asking you to let me dress in your clothes," the Medici girl added with a grin. "I happened to have just the thing. I just need you to stay here and pretend to be me."

"Pretend to be you," Sofia almost squeaked in alarm.

"Yes. You wouldn't have to do much. Just under the covers. Everyone is much too busy to check up on me, but just to be safe."

"I am more worried about your safety! Particularly after all that has transpired, perhaps it would be best to remain within the safety of these walls until the threat has passed."

Catalina shook her head, her resolve unwavering, "I understand your concern, Sofia, truly I do, but you worry too much. I shall be perfectly fine. " 

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the crackle of the fire the only sound that filled the room. And then, with a resigned sigh, Sofia nodded, her expression one of reluctant acquiescence. 

"Very well, but you must return well before dawn."

"Yes, I promise!"

Her companion shook her head in fond exasperation and rolled her eyes. 

As Catalina slipped into the tunic and trousers that she had stolen from Giuliano for such occasions, she couldn't suppress the mischievous grin that played upon her lips. With a quick adjustment of the hooded cloak that concealed her features, she made her way to the large window that overlooked the sprawling gardens below. The night air was cool against her skin as she pushed open the heavy wooden shutters, the soft creak of hinges echoing in the stillness of the night. Sofia gave her a frantic glare at the sound as she settled under the covers in the youngest Medici's place. 

Catalina paused for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest as she surveyed the trellis that snaked its way down the weathered stone facade of the palazzo. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she began her descent, her fingers finding purchase on the worn handholds with practiced ease. The darkness enveloped her like a cloak as she lowered herself down, the muted sounds beyond a distant symphony against the backdrop of her thoughts. It was a risky endeavour, but the thrill of rebellion burned bright within her chest, and then she was off into the city. 

The cobblestone streets stretched out before her like an endless maze, and at first, she simply wandered, allowing her feet to carry her wherever they pleased, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stifling confines of her gilded prison. She passed by bustling taverns and dimly lit alleyways, the laughter of drunken revellers mingling with the distant strains of music that drifted through the night like a siren's song.

But as she rounded a familiar corner, her gaze was drawn to the towering silhouette of the Duomo, its majestic spires reaching towards the heavens like outstretched fingers. The sight filled her with a sense of reverence, a reminder of her grandfather's grandiose dreams. She spent a few moments marvelling at the architectural genius it must have taken to construct such a thing, thinking that she would have very much liked to have been there to witness it herself. She wasn't naive enough to think that she could have contributed in any way that was meaningful, but she imagined she could have learned a great deal. 

As she stepped into the hallowed interior, the air was thick with the scent of incense and beeswax, a heady mixture that filled her lungs with each breath she took. Slowly, she made her way towards the altar with measured steps, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space as she knelt before the ornate shrine. 

Her faith was important to Catalina, a relic of her beloved grandmother, and as she clasped her hands around the familiar engraved cross that hung around her throat, she closed her eyes and spared the departed woman a thought. She prayed for her family's safety, for her father's long life, and for her brother's swift release from imprisonment. She also prayed that whichever idiot had claimed her sister's heart did right by her. 

Unbeknownst to her, a presence lurked in the shadows, observing her with a mixture of curiosity and something else—a flicker of emotion that lay buried beneath layers of hardened resolve. It had been some time since the Pazzi boy had crossed paths with her, yet her presence still stirred something within him, a long-buried memory clawing its way to the surface.

Francesco watched as the flickering candlelight danced across her features, casting her in a halo of soft illumination. The sight of her, bathed in the gentle glow of the cathedral, stirred something deep within his chest, a longing that he dared not name. But as his gaze lingered upon the crude scar that marred her once flawless brow, his thoughts turned to the unfortunate events that had brought them to this moment, and the tangled web of intrigue that bound their families together.

For a moment, he considered speaking, but then thought better of it, knowing that to interrupt her prayers would be to invite her wrath—a wrath that he had no desire to face, at least not until she had finished with her devotions. And so, he remained shrouded in the shadows. He watched as Catalina eventually rose to her feet, brushing imaginary dirt from her trousers, and then, as she turned to leave, he made his move, his footsteps silent against the cold stone floor as he crept up behind her.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Medici runt."

Startled, Catalina whirled around to face him, her eyes narrowing into slits as she took in the sight before her, recognizing the dark hair that framed his rugged features.

"Pazzi," she snapped. 

"That's not how you greet someone you haven't seen in so long."

"I'd rather not greet you at all if it can be helped."

"Rude."

"What do you want, Pazzi?" she sighed, turning to leave. "I have no desire to engage in your petty games."

Francesco merely grinned in response, his gaze sweeping over her with an intensity that made her skin prickle with unease. "No time for me, hmm?" he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Yet here you are, sneaking out into the night like a common thief. What would your illustrious family say if they knew their youngest was gallivanting about the city like some wayward urchin?"

"You're out here too."

"Yes, but I'm a man. I hardly think it's the same."

Catalina bristled at his words, her jaw set in a stubborn line as she met his gaze head-on. "My actions are none of your concern," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "And I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself."

Francesco chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit cathedral like a taunting melody. "Ah, but where's the fun in that, Lina?" he said, his grin widening into a smirk. 

The familiar childhood moniker that only he had ever used made her flinch, and instead of responding to him, she turned on her heel and strode purposefully towards the cathedral doors, her heart pounding in her chest as she fought to maintain her composure. 

Then, a sudden tug at her wrist pulled her back with a force that sent her stumbling against the threshold. Startled, she turned to face Francesco, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and defiance as she tried to wrench herself free from his grasp.

"Let go," she spat, her voice laced with venom. "You have some nerve, speaking to me like this after you had my brother thrown in jail."

But the Pazzi held fast, his grip like iron around her wrist as he drew her closer, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her skin crawl. 

"Your brother got just what he deserved. He planted the Pazzi medallion in order to frame us."

"My brother would never stoop to such levels, which is more than I can say for you."

"Well, he also attacked my uncle in our own home, so now he will hang for it," Francesco's gaze was cruel now. 

Catalina scoffed. He was bluffing. He had to be. Lorenzo would never let anything happen to Giuliano. For all her oldest brother's faults, he was their father's heir, and he took his responsibility for their family very seriously. 

"Or perhaps you shall hang instead."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked, his tone mocking as he chuckled, the sound grating on her nerves like sandpaper against stone.

"I very much would."

The brunette boy's eyes narrowed at her words, his expression turning cold and calculating as he stepped closer, his breath hot against her skin, his fingers almost bruising around her wrist. 

"You Medici's are all the same," he snarled. "Foolhardy and rash, and oh so pathetic. Tell me, how is your ridiculous father doing then?"

Catalina's hands curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to contain her rising fury. 

May god give me patience. Would it be a cardinal sin to strike someone in church?

"You look angry," Francesco mused. "Did I hit a nerve?"

He didn't know why he did it, why he egged her on in such a way, but there was something enjoyable in the way her cheeks flushed with irritation. Gone was the young girl he once knew who would prattle on about her ridiculous creations, fancying herself an inventor, and in her place was this tempestuous creature who looked like she was moments away from unleashing a volley of very colourful, and entirely inappropriate for holy grounds, words at him. 

It was all very entertaining. 

"Do not make me punch you in church."

"Go ahead, Lina," he returned, his eyes glinting with malice. "Perhaps a stint in jail with your brother will teach you some manners."

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Hmm, did you?"

Catalina took a deep breath, reminding herself to exercise restraint, before wrenching her arm away from her captor and storming away through the winding alleyways of Florence. Anger coursed through her veins like molten lava, fueled by the confrontation with Francesco. She moved with a sense of purpose, her mind consumed by thoughts of escape and the need to find solace in the one place she knew she could truly be herself.

As she reached the dimly lit brothel nestled at the corner of a bustling street, she wrinkled her nose at the sight of leering patrons flowing in and out of the entrance like a river of debauchery. With a deep breath to steel herself, she slipped through the crowd, her hood pulled low to conceal her features as she made her way to one of the back rooms.

The air was thick with the scent of smoke and cheap perfume as she knocked softly on the door, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest. A weak voice called out from within, the sound barely audible over the cacophony of the bustling space. With a sense of trepidation, Catalina pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was small and dimly lit, a single candle casting long shadows across the walls. In the corner, a girl with a shock of red hair lay in bed, her foot propped up on a cushion, bandaged and bruised. As Catalina approached, the girl's face lit up with recognition, a warm smile spreading across her lips.

"Cat!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine affection. "I didn't expect to see you here."

The Medici girl returned the smile, relief flooding her heart at the sight of her friend's familiar face. 

"Good to see you too, Isabella. How is your injury?"

"Same old, same old," she waved a hand, shuffling over to make room beside her for her guest. "At least I don't have to work for the next few nights. But it truly is so wonderful to see you! You have no idea how much you've been missed around here."

Catalina sank onto the bed beside the girl, the weight of the world lifting from her shoulders as she allowed herself to relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Isabella immediately took her hands in hers, entwining their fingers and tucking her head into her shoulder. The two women sat in companionable silence for a moment, before Isabelle began rambling to fill it. 

"You'll never believe what I heard about the Visconti family," she whispered conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It seems that young Giovanni Visconti has been caught in a compromising situation with the daughter of a prominent merchant."

Catalina raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued both by the tale of scandal as well as her friend's palpable enthusiasm for gossip. 

"Oh? And pray tell," she urged, humouring the redhead. "What exactly did he get himself into this time?"

"I heard from one of their servants that the young master was caught sneaking into the girl's chambers late one night. And let's just say that her father was none too pleased to find them together."

Catalina couldn't help but laugh at the image that formed in her mind, her amusement a welcome respite from the weight of her own troubles. "Oh, the scandal!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. "The Visconti family never fails to entertain, that's for certain."

"At least it wasn't his mother's lady's maid caught leaving his chambers."

"Men," the Medici girl sneered. "You know, if he has to go and be so uncouth, the least he can do is be discrete about it."

"And then there's the matter of Lady Beatrice's mysterious disappearance. Some say she ran off with a visiting dignitary from Venice, while others claim that it was her husband who finished her off."

"I say it was the husband. It's always the husband...and hers is a particular flavour of unsavoury. Although for her sake, I sincerely hope she managed to run off instead."

"You know, Cat," Isabella mused, grinning slyly. "Your brother has made quite a name for himself too."

"Ugh," Catalina gagged. "Please, spare me the details. That is one story I do not wish to hear at all."

"Do you wish to at least know which brother I speak of?"

"No thank you. Now, tell me more about your foot."

The other girl shrugged nonchalantly, a playful twinkle in her eye. "Oh, you know how it is," she said, her voice light with humour. "Just a little mishap during one of my... escapades. Nothing I can't handle."

"You'll tell me won't you?"

"Tell you what?"

"If it's too much. If there's anything I can do to help, anything at all!"

Isabella grinned, her cheeks flushed with colour as she raised their joined hands and planted a kiss to the back of Catalina's knuckles, "You, my dear sweet Cat, worry too much. I shall be perfectly alright in no time and ready to accompany you on your midnight escapades."

"Good...it was getting lonely without you."

"It's okay, just say you miss me!"

"Alright, I...missed you."

"I love you too Cat!"

"That's not what I said."

"But that's what you meant. I would know, I'm actually a mind-reader."

As the two women sat together in the dimly lit room, the sounds of the bustling brothel fading into the background, Catalina felt a sense of peace settle over her like a warm embrace as they engaged in pleasant conversation until the early hours of the morning. 

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A/N: hihi we're back, they've finally met, hope u enjoy!
As usual, plz don't be a ghost reader, comments/questions/even keyboard smashes are highly appreciated and really motivate me to continue writing so share your thoughts plz and thank u <3