It was an unfair statement to make, and Uberto’s avvocato mind picked up on it instantly. “Oreste has been fairly successful to date. And he is quite a few years younger than you are.”
“What are you implying, that Lorenzo would replace me?” Giovanni said sharply, angry and troubled by the implication. Certainly the years would not be kind to an assassin, but he had thought that Lorenzo would at least allow him a chance to redeem himself. Particularly since Lorenzo had allowed him to share his bed only about a week or so before the ill-fated mission.
“I think it would happen eventually. The Medici family, they are ruthless,” Uberto said, and he lowered his eyes to the legal brief, scanning it. “Perhaps you are not aware.”
Perhaps he should have been more vigorous in his defense of his mistake. “Uberto, you speak with Lorenzo sometimes, do you not? You move in the same circles. Could you try to ascertain – subtly – what is wrong?”
“You do not need to be an avvocato to see what is wrong, old friend. Once he can make no further profit from you, Lorenzo will cast you aside.”
“I do not think it will be like that.”
“Oh, very well. Perhaps I can mention something to il Magnifico when he next graces the Doge’s offices with his presence. But I will make you no promises.”
“Grazie, Uberto,” Giovanni said gratefully.
Uberto’s answer, however, returned within a few days. L. has not quite forgiven you.
Giovanni wrote a quick response, tying it back on the long-suffering pigeon. What do you mean, ‘not quite’?
A quick jog around the roofs and an intervention to prevent a thief from robbing a passing woman after, Uberto’s response arrived. No confirmation that you have been replaced by O. Knowing Uberto, Giovanni thought sourly as he folded up the missive and tore it carefully to shreds, he probably just meant ‘no written confirmation’. Avvocati habits died hard.
Are you sure? Giovanni wrote a reply.
I charge by the hour. Also, you are paranoid. L. said you are yet one of several of his choices. I gather that you must have annoyed him terribly. Uberto had a healthy sense of schadenfreude.
It took him a few days to draft a suitably humble, neutral query to Lorenzo about the mark and any associated work, then another, when no response was forthcoming. On the cusp of the next week, Lorenzo’s response returned, curt and flat. Nothing further at present.
Swallowing hard, Giovanni exhaled out loud as he dug his fingers into his palm, startling the pigeons in their coop into cooing. An ugly emotion was coiling tight into an ache in his chest, but he dared not risk more of Lorenzo’s ire by disobeying and going to the palazzo anyway. Distracted at work, Giovanni spent it trying to mentally draft a suitable apology that Lorenzo would accept, and failed to balance any books whatsoever.
Silence greeted the first apology, then Stop wasting my time addressed the second. At the third, somewhat more desperately worded plea for clemency, Lorenzo seemed to have relented. Come tonight.
Giovanni exhaled in relief even as he read the note again, then destroyed it, before climbing up to leap to the next terrace house. It would not do to be late.
The Price of Failure [2/?]
“What are you implying, that Lorenzo would replace me?” Giovanni said sharply, angry and troubled by the implication. Certainly the years would not be kind to an assassin, but he had thought that Lorenzo would at least allow him a chance to redeem himself. Particularly since Lorenzo had allowed him to share his bed only about a week or so before the ill-fated mission.
“I think it would happen eventually. The Medici family, they are ruthless,” Uberto said, and he lowered his eyes to the legal brief, scanning it. “Perhaps you are not aware.”
Perhaps he should have been more vigorous in his defense of his mistake. “Uberto, you speak with Lorenzo sometimes, do you not? You move in the same circles. Could you try to ascertain – subtly – what is wrong?”
“You do not need to be an avvocato to see what is wrong, old friend. Once he can make no further profit from you, Lorenzo will cast you aside.”
“I do not think it will be like that.”
“Oh, very well. Perhaps I can mention something to il Magnifico when he next graces the Doge’s offices with his presence. But I will make you no promises.”
“Grazie, Uberto,” Giovanni said gratefully.
Uberto’s answer, however, returned within a few days. L. has not quite forgiven you.
Giovanni wrote a quick response, tying it back on the long-suffering pigeon. What do you mean, ‘not quite’?
A quick jog around the roofs and an intervention to prevent a thief from robbing a passing woman after, Uberto’s response arrived. No confirmation that you have been replaced by O. Knowing Uberto, Giovanni thought sourly as he folded up the missive and tore it carefully to shreds, he probably just meant ‘no written confirmation’. Avvocati habits died hard.
Are you sure? Giovanni wrote a reply.
I charge by the hour. Also, you are paranoid. L. said you are yet one of several of his choices. I gather that you must have annoyed him terribly. Uberto had a healthy sense of schadenfreude.
It took him a few days to draft a suitably humble, neutral query to Lorenzo about the mark and any associated work, then another, when no response was forthcoming. On the cusp of the next week, Lorenzo’s response returned, curt and flat. Nothing further at present.
Swallowing hard, Giovanni exhaled out loud as he dug his fingers into his palm, startling the pigeons in their coop into cooing. An ugly emotion was coiling tight into an ache in his chest, but he dared not risk more of Lorenzo’s ire by disobeying and going to the palazzo anyway. Distracted at work, Giovanni spent it trying to mentally draft a suitable apology that Lorenzo would accept, and failed to balance any books whatsoever.
Silence greeted the first apology, then Stop wasting my time addressed the second. At the third, somewhat more desperately worded plea for clemency, Lorenzo seemed to have relented. Come tonight.
Giovanni exhaled in relief even as he read the note again, then destroyed it, before climbing up to leap to the next terrace house. It would not do to be late.
-tbc maybe. ;3-