My father led us into the church. He had never seemed more handsome, more regal than he did at that moment. He was dressed grandly in a tightly-fitted tunic and breeches of black satin, over which he wore a robe of shining crimson brocade lined with white ermine. Our family and the courtiers stopped at the designated place, but my father continued alone down the vast aisle.
I stood beside my brother and clutched his hand. Neither of us looked the other in the eye; I knew if I met Alfonsos gaze, I would betray my unhappiness at an hour when I should have felt quite the opposite.
I had learned, shortly after my betrothal to Jofre was renewed, of the deal the new King had struck with Pope Alexander. Alfonso II would grant to Jofre Borgia the principality of Squillace; in return, His Holiness would send a papal legate (in this case, a powerful cardinal from his own family) to crown the King. Thus, Alexander gave his direct, irrevocable blessing and recognition to Alfonsos reign.
The exchange had been the Kings idea-not the Popes, as my father had told me.
He had intentionally purchased his joy at the cost of my sorrow.
The man who would soon be known as Alfonso II stopped at the choir of the canons, where he was greeted by the Archbishop of Naples and the Patriarch of Antiochia. They led him to his seat before the altar, where he listened along with the rest of us as the Papal Bull declaring him undisputed ruler of Naples was read.
My father knelt on a cushion before Cardinal Giovanni Borgia, the papal legate, and carefully repeated the oath after him.
I listened at the same time I contemplated my fate.
Why did my father hate me so? He was indifferent to his other children, save the Crown Prince, Ferrandino-but he showed his eldest son attention only insofar as it was necessary to train him for his position in life. Was it because I had caused more trouble than the others?
I listened at the same time I contemplated my fate.
Why did my father hate me so? He was indifferent to his other children, save the Crown Prince, Ferrandino-but he showed his eldest son attention only insofar as it was necessary to train him for his position in life. Was it because I had caused more trouble than the others?
Perhaps. But perhaps the answer also lay in old Ferrantes words: Of all his children, you are most like your father.
But my father had shrieked when he saw the Angevin mummies; I had not.
You always were a coward, Alfonso.
Was it possible that my fathers cruelty sprang from fear? And did he despise me because I possessed the one attribute he did not-courage?
Near the altar, my father had finished swearing his oath. The cardinal handed him a piece of parchment, thus investing him as King, and said, By virtue of Apostolic authority.
Now a prince of the realm by virtue of marriage, Jofre Borgia stepped forward, small and solemn, with the crown. The cardinal took it from him, then placed it upon my fathers head. It was heavy and slid a bit; the prelate steadied it with one hand while he and the archbishop buttoned the strap beneath my fathers chin, to hold it fast.
The items of rulership were handed to the new King: the sword, the sceptre, the orb. Ceremony dictated that all the Popes prelates should now form a circle behind my father, but his brothers, sons, and loyal barons surged forward in an abrupt, impetuous show of support.
Laughing, my father sat down on his throne while the assembly cheered.
Viva Re Alfonso! Viva Re Alfonso!
Despite my fury and resentment at being his pawn, I looked upon him, crowned and glorious, and was amazed by the sudden welling of loyalty and pride within me. I called out with the others, my voice breaking.
Viva Re Alfonso!
The next three days I spent being fitted for a splendid wedding gown. The stomacher was made of the golden brocade my husband had given me, and the gown itself was of black velvet striped with satin, with a chemise of gold silk; both the gown and stomacher were seeded with Jofres pearls, and more of his diamonds and pearls were carefully woven into a headdress of the finest gold thread. The sleeves, which tied onto the bodice, were also of striped black velvet and satin, and so voluminous I could have fit my new husband into one. There was a time I would have taken great pride and interest in the gown, and in adorning myself to further enhance my beauty; this was not such a time. I looked upon that gown as a prisoner beholds his chains.
My wedding day dawned crimson, with the sun obscured by clouds. I stood on my balcony at the Castel Nuovo, unable to sleep the long night before, knowing that I was to surrender my home and all I knew to go and live in a strange city. I savoured the scent of the cool sea air and drew it deep into my lungs; would it smell as sweet in Squillace? I stared out at the leaden green bay, presided over by dark Vesuvio, knowing the memory of that moment would never be enough to sustain me. My life revolved around my brother, and his around mine; I conversed with him each morning, supped with him each night, spoke to him throughout the day. He knew and loved me better than my own mother. Jofre seemed a kindly lad, but he was a stranger. How could I cheerfully face life without Alfonso?
Only one thing troubled me more greatly: The knowledge that my little brother would suffer similar loneliness-perhaps worse, since Donna Esmeralda had said he was more sensitive than me. That was the hardest of all to endure.
At last I went inside to my ladies, to begin the preparations for the marriage ceremony, to be held mid-morning.
As the day progressed, the sky grew more dismal and overcast, a perfect reflection of my mood. For Alfonsos sake, I hid my sorrow; I remained gracious, poised.
As a bride, I was magnificent in my gown; when I entered the castles Royal Chapel, a murmur of awe ran through the waiting assembly. I took no pleasure in such appreciation. I was too preoccupied with avoiding the gaze of my brother, allowing myself only a glimpse of him as I passed. He looked regal and adult in a tunic of dark blue, with a gold-hilted sword at his hip. His expression was taut, grave, without a trace of the radiance he had inherited from our mother. He stared carefully ahead at the altar.
Of the religious ceremony, I can tell you only that it went on interminably, and that poor Jofre bore himself with all the regal grace he could summon. But when the time came for him to pass the Bishops kiss on to me, he was compelled to stand on tip-toe, and his lips trembled.
Afterwards came a concert, then a lunch that endured for hours, with much drinking of wine and salutes to the new bride and groom. When dusk came, Jofre retired to a nearby palazzo which had been prepared for us. Sunset was entirely hidden by the great, dark storm clouds that had gathered over the bay.
I arrived with the night and the first muted rolls of thunder, accompanied by my father the King, and the Cardinal of Monreale, Giovanni Borgia. The Cardinal was a homely, middle-aged man, with coarse lips and a demeanour to match. His head was shaved in the priests tonsure, and his bald crown covered with a red satin skullcap; his portly form was covered by a white satin cassock topped by purple velvet robes, and his thick fingers sparkled with diamonds and rubies.
I left the men in the corridor and entered the bedchamber, which my women had readied for us. Donna Esmeralda undressed me, carrying away not just the beautiful wedding gown, but even my silk chemise. Naked, I was led to the nuptial bed, where Jofre waited. At the sight of me, his eyes grew round; he stared with a naive lack of restraint as one of my ladies pulled back the sheet for me, waited for me to lie beside my new husband, then drew the covering up only so far as my waist. There I lay, my full breasts bared to the world.
Jofre was too shy and I too disheartened to make small talk during this embarrassing ritual-one of the more unpleasant requirements of nobility and power, and there was naught could rescue us from it.
When the King and Cardinal Borgia, whose office it was to witness the nuptial event, entered the chamber, Jofre greeted them with a gracious smile.
It was clear that Cardinal Borgia shared his cousin Rodrigos appreciation for younger women, for he stared quite pointedly at my bosom and sighed. How beautiful they are. Like roses.
I fought the impulse to cover myself. I seethed with resentment that this old man should be carnally entertained at my expense; nor was I at ease with the fact that my father had never seen me unclothed.
The Kings gaze flickered over my nakedness with a detachment that made me shudder; he gave a cold little smile. Like all flowers, they will wither quickly enough. His eyes were no longer troubled; tonight, they were bright. He had achieved all he had ever wanted in this world-he was King, with the Popes blessing, and such was all the sweeter because he would also soon be rid of his troublesome daughter. This was the moment of his greatest triumph over me; this was the moment of my greatest defeat.
Never did my hatred for my father burn so brightly as it did at that moment; never had my humiliation been so complete. I turned my face away, lest Jofre and the cardinal see the loathing in my eyes. I wanted desperately to pull the sheets around me, to storm from the bed, but the intensity of my anger left me wooden, unable to move.
Jofre broke the brief silence with disarming honesty. Forgive me, Your Majesty, Your Holiness, if I find myself at the mercy of nerves.
Jofre broke the brief silence with disarming honesty. Forgive me, Your Majesty, Your Holiness, if I find myself at the mercy of nerves.
The cardinal laughed lecherously. You are young, my boy-at your age, all the nerves in Naples cannot impede your performance.
Tis not my age that gives me hope of success, Jofre countered, but the dazzling beauty of my bride.
From any other lips-save perhaps my Alfonsos-such words would have been a pretty display of courtly wit. But Jofre uttered them with sincerity, and a shy sidewise glance.
Both men laughed-my father derisively, the cardinal appreciatively. The latter slapped his thigh. Take her then, boy. Take her! I can see from the rise of the sheet that you are ready!