The Pope's Daughter

Chapter 2

It all happened too fast; Giovanni did not come home that night, but that was not an uncommon behaviour of Lucrezia’s eldest brother. What really upset the girl was that her dearest brother Cesare was also absent, and he would not visit her room at night to sing her songs and tell her stories until she fell asleep as he usually did. Not to mention hehad promised to tell her everything about how the will of God should be done, and now she would have to wait longer until she knew, and curiosity overwhelmed her.

“Andiamo, Lucrezia,” her mother warned. “It is too late, daughter. You must sleep.”

Lucrezia let the maid assist her to undress and put on her night gown, extremely upset. She said her prayers mechanically, her naive mind on her father and brothers, wondering what they were doing. She imagined the three of them dressed in shiny silver armours, riding high horses and fighting the Cause of God. True warriors of Christendom, the Borgia men. She could not believe how lucky she was to be a Borgia herself.

“Bed, young miss,” the maid said. Lucrezia was still kneeled before her oratory, and she turned to her with a cold glance.

“I am praying for my father and brothers,” she said. “They are doing the will of God. They need my prayers.”

“You have prayed enough for today,” the maid insisted. “God is pleased with you and will listen to you. But He does not like excess nor stubborn little girls. Bed, young miss.”

Knowing that if she wouldn’t obey, the maid would call her mother, Lucrezia finally stood up and went to bed.

It was hard to sleep; her mind was boiling with excitement and questions. She wished she was a boy, then she could perhaps have gone with Cesare and then she could see what was happening. The Pope was dead, and her father would be the next Pope. How did they choose? If it was an election, who were the other ones, against her father? Didn’t they know they were going against the will of God? What would happen to her when her father became Pope?

“You ask too many questions, Lucrezia,” her mother said the next morning at breakfast, when Lucrezia finally said everything that was on her mind.

“Yet I get close to no answer.” The girl pouted.

“Oh, very well.” Her mother smiled kindly. “It is normal that after a Pope dies, the Cardinals reunite to choose the next Pope. It is the tradition, God’s Law. It must happen. Your father cannot simply claim the throne of Saint Peter for his own without being elected.”

“But I thought it was the will of God that he becomes Pope?”

“And so it is. The will of God will come true following His Holy rules of conclave, and your father will be rightfully elected.”

“And what about the other men who want to be Pope?”

“Every Cardinal is eligible for papacy, Lucrezia. It is not about wanting to be Pope. You have no choice. Once you are a Cardinal, and as long you are not the master of ceremonies of the conclave, you might be elected, you might not.”

“What does a master of ceremonies do?”

“Preside it,” she said simply. “They make sure every Cardinal is well provided, then they proceed to preside the voting as guided by God’s Law.”

“What if someone else wants to be Pope?”

“Of course some do.” Her mother sighed.

“They are Cardinals. Princes of Christendom. They should do God’s will and elect Papa, not want the papacy for themselves.”

“Ah, figlia mia,” Vannozza hugged her daughter tenderly. “You are too young to understand this. Most men care nothing about the will of God, only their own will.”