[ She smiles up at her, pleased by the hand in her hair. It reminds her of Cesare and of Rome and of faraway days in the gardens of the Vatican. ]

It is. Someone from home. His family will mourn him but not my own and even his servants shall not shed a tear, I knew them all before I came here. When I lived in his house. Do not say I'm wicked, Golden Jaye but I shall tell you this, he was my husband.