The Pope's Daughter

Chapter 8

Vatican City, Italy – December of 1493.

Sforza was not willing to cooperate; as soon as he fled from Rome, Pope Alexander VI decided to take a softer measure to persuade him to collaborate and declare his marriage was invalid. Sforza, however, filled with rage, had his own plans to get revenge from the Pope and all the Borgia clan.

“He is decided to stand his ground,” Cesare informed Lucrezia. “He wants to stay married to you.”

She gave her brother a strange look, putting down the towel she was working on; the beautiful design of the Virgin Mary was almost complete.

“Why?”

“Because he knows we don’t want it. Not for anything else. He just wants to contradict us.”

Lucrezia nodded. “Then what now?”

“We wait.” Cesare shrugged. “Father asked Cardinal Sforza to go to your husband and talk terms with him, but quite honestly, I do not think this will help the situation at all.”

“No, probably now.” She sighed. “I suppose this will be it? I will be married but living away from my husband?”

“I doubt Father will allow it. Just be patient, Lucrezia. I assure you that you will not be forever married to Sforza.”

The Christmas feast’s preparations were happening in all Europe, and Lucrezia could distract herself from her matrimonial issues. The papal court was filled with the most important families of Italy, and the Sacred Roman Emperor himself would celebrate the holiday at the Papal States. Everyone was suddenly very busy, including the Pope himself, who stopped going to the Borgia palace and instead had his children and Giulia to attend his court, being accommodated at the Apostolic Palace.

“It is so beautiful!” Lucrezia said, as she entered the apartments; her father had paid a small fortune to decorate those rooms especially for his children’s use. The walls were all covered by frescoes, master pieces of Pinturicchio.

“Father had them made after encyclopaedia themes,” Cesare explained. “Here is the first hall, and the frescoes represent the mysteries of faith. There’s the Resurrection.” He pointed at the third painting where the Christ was rising to the skies, and giggled. “See the man kneeled before the Christ? Is he familiar to you?”

Lucrezia squinted to take a better look at the man in golden clothing on the bottom left, kneeled before Jesus with his hands on prayer position.

“That is Papa!” she said amused.

“Who else?” Cesare smiled. “But he did not leave us behind either.”

Taking his sister’s hand, he conducted her to the next hall, as sumptuous and beautifully decorated as the first.

“This is the Hall of Saints,” he said. “Look at this one. It’s St. Catherine’s Disputation.”

Lucrezia studied the fresco for a minute, before widening her eyes and laughing.

“Dio mio! Is it me?” she pointed at the young woman with long golden hair in the middle, wearing a beautiful dark blue gown embroidered with gold and a red mantle around her shoulders.

“Yes,” Cesare replied. “You are Saint Catherine herself, facing the fifty opponents.”

“This is so amusing!” she said laughing. “Am I Holy now too, since I am daughter to the Holy Father?”

“He will make sure we all are. This is our brother Giovanni.” Cesare pointed at a bearded man with hair falling to his shoulder, sat by a throne, richly dressed and wearing a byzantine crown. “I am the Emperor.”