The Pope's Daughter

Chapter 15

Rome, Italy – December 31st of 1494.

“It is the last day of the year, and probably my last day here.”

Lucrezia hid her face with the hood of the furred coat, involved by the darkness of the night. The litters were waiting for her, her brother Geoffrei and his wife Sancha. Sadly, she glanced at the Sistine chapel behind her. The first hours of the last day of the year began with running away.

“Where are you sending us to?” Lucrezia asked her father once again.

“You will see once you are there,” he repeated the answer he gave her every time she asked that question. “Now please be safe.”

“Why are you sending us away on New Year’s Eve. I cannot believe you.” Lucrezia refused to enter the litter, despite the coldness of the night. She saw with the corner of her eye that Sancha had already been accommodated inside her litter with Geoffrei. “I know the French are coming. Charles of France is coming to declare war on you. He will most likely depose you for sodomy and summon a new conclave, and there will be a French Pope in power.”

“Trust in God, figlia mia,” Alexander VI said. “He will not abandon us.”

“But apparently you have abandoned your cause!” she protested. “Will you stay here and let the French King take you from the throne of Saint Peter? Will you make a martyr of yourself, dying by the hands of the French? Is that your plan?”

“I have no intention of abandoning our cause, Lucrezia,” he replied seriously. “I have a plan. And I will not lose. I am the Pope of Rome, and I shall be pope until the day I die. You will come back to the Vatican and everything will be alright. I will surrender to no one but God.”

“Then why are you sending us away?”

“A father must do whatever it takes to protect his children.”

Lucrezia laughed, cruelly. “You married me off to Sforza when I was only twelve years old. I was a child. Until this day, I am still Lady Lucrezia Sforza. Cesare is prisoner to the French king, who is coming for you now. Is that how you protect your children, father?”

At the moment she finished saying that, she regretted it; the Pope looked down, his shoulders falling miserably. For the first time, Lucrezia noticed how old her father looked. The papacy had made his hair, once dark brown, completely grey. Under his light eyes, she could see dark marks indicating he had not had a good night of sleep for a long time. He used to be bony and tall, yet he somehow had become thinner and smaller, as if the weight of the crown on Saint Peter was too heavy for him.

“I am only human, Lucrezia,” he said quietly. “I made many mistakes in life, and allowing you to marry Sforza was one of them. It hurts me more than I can express, my love. But you are with me now, and I will not allow anything to harm you again. I am sending you and your brother away exactly for that reason. I wouldn’t risk your lives for anything in the world.”

She sighed, allowing her father to take her face with both his hands. He looked into her beautiful hazel eyes, glowing with the reflection of the moonlight. That beloved daughter of his, the only girl his favourite and most beloved mistress had given him, the only daughter he had seen growing up and loved with all his heart.

“Please go,” he begged.

“I am afraid.”

“Do not be afraid. I have arranged that you will be safe.”

“I am not afraid for myself. I am afraid for you and Cesare.”

“I will be alright. I promise you. And Cesare as well. Soon we will be reunited and we will laugh at all this. I promise you that, my love.”