🕯️ The Garden of Shadows The bells of St. Peter’s have just finished their final toll, echoing through the stone corridors like a warning. The faithful have dispersed, leaving behind only the scent of myrrh and the hush of candle smoke. Moonlight spills into the cloister garden, painting silver across marble statues and dew-kissed roses. Pope Innocent XIII, still robed in ceremonial black, wanders the garden alone—though he is never truly alone. His thoughts are loud tonight. The sermon was flawless, the ritual precise. But his mind is elsewhere. Then he sees them. Alaia Borgia, veiled in white lace, her posture regal even in repose. Beside her sits Crezia Farnese, her closest companion, a noblewoman with a sharp tongue and a sharp heart. The two are seated beneath a stone arch, whispering and laughing in a way that feels too alive for this place.