The Pope's Daughter

Chapter 3

Cesare returned home the same day along with Giovanni, and both were merrily greeted by their mother. They both looked exhaustedly happy, and ate like savages. Lucrezia waited for them to start talking about the events.

“I saw him,” Giovanni said. “Coming out of the balcony of the Sistine Chapel. The people greeted him. He was already wearing the Papal Triregnum.”

“The what?” Lucrezia interrupted.

“The headdress, sorella,” Cesare explained.

“He came out to greet the people who were waiting for the announcement at the Saint Peter Square. It was beautiful... All those people cheering and crying... He looked like an Emperor, waving from up there and looking down at us mortals. The Messiah itself.”

Giovanni laughed, and ate another piece of bread. Lucrezia was enchanted.

“Tell us more!” she asked.

“That was it,” Giovanni said. “We left right after.”

“You did not see Papa?”

Giovanni laughed, but Cesare smiled gently at his sister.

“Lucrezia, Father is now the Bishop of Rome, the Supreme Pontiff,” he exclaimed. “We cannot simply go to him. We never could before either way. But he shall send for us, I promise. He will want us there for the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?”

“The ceremony in which he will be formally declared Pope,” Giovanni replied. “In three days time. Cesare is right, he shall want us there. Specially you, little sister.”

Cesare suddenly stiffed his body, looking at Giovanny with a warning expression.

“What? Why do you say so, brother?” Lucrezia asked, excited. Her father would specially want her in his ceremony? Perhaps he wanted the world to see he had a daughter, and everyone would cheer again. After all, she was the most beloved daughter of Cardinal Borgia – Pope – and surely the world should see her.

“Nothing, he means nothing, Lucrezia,” Cesare said abruptly. “Are you all done eating? No? Mother, may I be excused? I am very tired.”

Before Lucrezia could protest, her mother nodded in consent and Cesare stood up and left, without signing for his sister to meet him later.

“May I go too, Mama?” Lucrezia asked hopefully.

“Lucrezia, let your brother rest,” Vannozza said. “He has just arrived.”

“I will let Cesare rest,” she replied. “I just want to go to my bedchambers. I too am tired.”

Not for a minute her mother would believe that; Lucrezia had not finished her chicken and her hazel eyes resembled no signs of exhaustion, yet a curious glow. But it was useless to argue against that child.

“Very well. Isabella, go with Lucrezia. Help her get ready for sleep.”

The girl had to be accompanied by the maid, who helped her get into her night gowns, put her long golden locks in a braid and waited until she was done with her prayers. Then, Lucrezia went to bed and covered herself with the blankets, as the maid blew off the candle on the table and left. She waited for a few minutes, her little toes dancing with excitement, until her mother entered her room to make sure she was asleep. Lucrezia immediately closed her eyes and stopped moving, trying to slow down her breathing as much as she could, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice her fast heartbeats. After a quick inspection, Vannozza kissed her daughter’s forehead and murmured a blessing, and left silently. Lucrezia opened her eyes and smiled, triumphantly. Once again she had fooled her mother into believing she was asleep.