Phew. I barely got away with it.
I started ambling away with the tiniest of guilt weighing my heart down a little. I did not lie to Hugo and Marie. I just bent the truth so it would be in my favor. There is a difference, right?
The Basilica of Santa Croce was only a few minutes away. It wasn’t as grand as the Duomo, but it would do. I had only received the letter from the Pope a few days ago, and wondered if a bishop had come from the Vatican City to meet me. I would find out soon.
A few minutes later, I veered right, and walked through the threshold of the doors to the church. The colorful stained-glass windows and the huge arches, as well as the multiple rows of pews and the frescoes decorated the huge church. I saw a familiar face wandering around the altar, peering down at a Holy Bible. After calling his name twice, he looked up, and his echoing voice beckoned me over.
“Dante Cuoco, it has been a long time since the last time I’ve seen you!”
“Yes, Father Ottavio, I am grateful to see a Roman face again.” He continued on, seeming to ignore my comment.
“The Holy Father, Pope Alexander VII, has sent information from the Vatican City. He must ask of your progress, for the Holy Father has not heard a word from you in the past four years.”
What progress have I had? Not much, I realized. Wasn’t my mission the whole rationale of why I was in Florence?
I stayed silent, hoping the interrogation would not continue.
“Very well then, Dante. I see that you have not changed your boy-like ways, always trying to outsmart everyone. Remember, your priesthood is on the line. Under the Holy Father’s orders, in exactly one month, you must find at least one heretic, or you will be stripped of your priesthood training, and quite possibly, your life.”
Father Ottavio sauntered away nonchalantly, as if nothing, if anything, occurred between the two of us. He finally stepped into the streets of Florence signaling me to leave. If the Pope gave God’s orders, I must obey. But murder was a sin, and then, I would be damned to the depths of Hell. Don’t fret Dante. The Pope will forgive you and free you of your sins. Florence was my new home, and I would not hurt a living soul. But I was definitely doomed, stuck between a rock and a hard place.
