Page 325 of DATE
Master, with just one strike, you can be free of these tortures forever.
Just one strike.
He raised his hand high, gripping the lord’s shoulder.
In the dim light, the exact position of the neck wasn’t clear, but it didn’t matter if it was a little off—this sick man no longer had the strength to resist.
Cosimo hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before refocusing and confirming the target.
But suddenly, he heard three piercing arrows whizzing through the air.
The area around his chest and abdomen turned cold and numb, and then a violent, crashing pain surged like a roaring beast, causing him to collapse to his knees—
What… what is happening?!
“Cosimo.”
The man sat up, his voice cold. “Is this what you call loyalty?”
The servant clutched his pierced abdomen, blood flowing freely, staining his hands and trailing across the carpet in a winding path.
“You…” he hissed, his voice breaking, “you…”
Hidden crossbowmen emerged from three concealed corners, their blades pressed against the rebel's throat to prevent any sudden movements.
Cosimo was now incapable of completing a sentence. He grasped the arrow protruding from his stomach, his throat filled with gurgling blood, his eyes red with veins.
“I treated you like a brother,” Lorenzo said, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at the man kneeling before him. “But I never imagined I had a Borgia in my own court.”
Cosimo sneered, his body trembling as he tried to maintain his balance. The intense pain caused him to collapse onto the carpet, unable to control his groans.
"You... you are already..." he stammered, "...you will die too..."
"Better late than you," Lorenzo stood up and placed his foot firmly on Cosimo's throat.
"Your corpse will be devoured by wild dogs, your bones buried under a coal mine, forever consumed by the fire of the devil," his voice was cold, as if discussing the weather, but the pressure of his foot made Cosimo gasp for breath.
Cosimo's dagger was swiftly taken from his hand, and the long arrow embedded in his abdomen was brutally pulled out.
More blood flowed from him, and his vision began to fade.
"Better off dead," the lord whispered.
When Hedy saw the two children, she let out a long sigh of relief.
"By afternoon, we’ll reach Florence," she reassured them. "The carriage has been moving quickly; perhaps your father is still waiting for you at the Palazzo Pitti."
Lorenzo’s eldest daughter, Lucrezia, had already married a nobleman. His second son and adopted son were both around eleven years old and getting along well.
These children had been studying and receiving instruction from the Roman Church since their childhood, and they were asgentle and friendly toward Hedy as ever.
Their brother, Piero, had nearly choked to death on food earlier, but thanks to Hedy’s quick intervention, he had been saved.
The children didn’t understand much about the war, focusing more on the wild sparrows and foxes they encountered.
They seemed relaxed and happy, as though the chaos of the world had no bearing on them.
The carriage made its way toward the Palazzo Pitti, where the lady of the house had been waiting for some time.
