Chapter 24 Luca #2
It seemed like Aliénor saw me for who I really was.
She brought out the best in me when everyone else only brought out the worst. I’d never done the sleepover thing like this, but I wasn’t annoyed by her presence.
I went from a solitary existence to sharing my bed, my time, and even a bit of my heart.
I arrived in Rome that evening.
The lights looked like wildfire from the sky, and once I was on the ground, I was surrounded by the cacophony of Rome. It was different from the other Italian cities because it possessed an inherently chaotic charm. The birthplace of Italy, of the Roman Empire, of the brothers Romulus and Remus.
The tension in the air was innate, from the rise and fall of the Republic, from the tyranny of Julius Caesar. It made complete sense that the Roman Emperor had made the founding city his home because I was certain the Roman Army burned in his veins.
I arrived at Vatican City, escorted inside through a private entrance from nearby Castel Sant’Angelo. I’d been to Rome but not the Vatican. Dressed the way I was, I was certain to stick out among the priests and nuns, if any were out this time of night.
I was guided over the water into the Holy City.
Lampposts were installed along the deserted cobblestone streets.
The Vatican was the smallest country in the world, an independent sovereignty from Rome despite the fact that it was in the center of it.
With a population of seven hundred people, it was mostly comprised of priests and nuns and other works that supported the Pope.
I was escorted into one of the grand buildings with marble floors with sculptures and beautiful artwork on the walls. It looked more like a museum than an office or residence. We took the stairs to the second floor, and I was escorted into a different wing—the Apostolic Palace.
Home of Pope Zephyrinus III.
I wasn’t particularly religious, wasn’t raised in a Catholic household, but whether I believed there was something after this life or not, it was still the goddamn Pope, and therefore, an honor to be in his presence.
One wall was lined with bookshelves of ancient tomes that had been part of the library for nearly two thousand years. In the center was an enormous sculpture of the Virgin Mary. A place that had been maintained and also preserved, a place where all the other holy priests of the Vatican had sat.
A large ornate desk was on a green rug with books and parchment across the surface. There was no computer or electronic device in sight. I felt as if I’d stepped back in time to the 1920s.
The balcony behind the desk gave a view of the entrance to the Vatican, a wide-open space of cobblestones that tourists flocked to every day to pay their respects to the holy capital.
Then I was guided to a separate sitting area, a long couch and several armchairs on a rug, a lit fireplace in the wall.
I recognized Constantine in the armchair, speaking quietly to someone on the couch. He turned to look at me, and that was when the rage came to the surface. He immediately rose to his feet.
On the couch was an elderly man dressed in the robes of his position.
While he was frail in the last decade of his life, his presence held so much power it made me believe someone divine was looking over him.
He slowly rose to his feet, arms together at his waist, and he regarded me with sheathed warmth.
Constantine continued to glare at me.
I regarded the Pope. “Your Holiness.” I gave a slight nod with my head. “An honor to be in your presence and the presence of God.” I didn’t extend my hand to shake his, knowing that was presumptuous.
The bullets in Constantine’s eyes retreated slightly. “Holy Father, this is Luca Fournier, First French Emperor of the Fifth Republic. Come to pay his respects—and his apologies.”
I stepped forward.
Constantine immediately raised his palm. “Close enough.”
If we weren’t in the presence of the spiritual leader of the church, I’d have something to say.
“All of the belongings taken from your museum have been delivered to the address you provided. I had no hand in the theft, and I’m not associated with the men who decided to rob you.
But they’ve been reprimanded for their heinous crime, and I can promise you this will never happen again. ”
Constantine crossed his arms over his chest, nearly two feet taller than the holy man he protected.
“Thank you, my son,” Pope Zephyrinus said warmly.
I gave a nod. “Again, very sorry.”
He slowly approached me then raised his closed fingers to his head then his sternum, and then across his shoulders, making the sign of the cross. “May God be with you.”
“And you, Father.”
He slowly walked away, his guards waiting for him to pass before they got behind him, making sure I wouldn’t do something stupid like pursue him.
When he was gone, Constantine took a seat.
I did as well.
“You think I’d attack the Pope?” I asked incredulously.
“You robbed the Pope, which is just as bad if you ask me.”
I almost rolled my eyes, but that felt like a crime in this holy place.
“And the second part of our deal?” he asked, cutting straight to the chase.
The heads of the Aristocrats in a bloody sack. “They’ve been reprimanded—”
“Not good enough.”
“You think the Pope wants their heads?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “Seemed pretty gracious to me.”
“That wasn’t his demand, but mine.”
“Constantine, I didn’t have to come all the way down here. I could have sent everything on the truck and been done with it. But I came here to apologize to Pope Zephyrinus face-to-face because I truly am sorry that this desecration happened on holy soil.”
“So few have stepped foot in the Apostolic Palace, but you act like it’s a burden.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You should feel honored.”
He was starting to sound just as crazy as the Aristocrats. “If you really want their heads, I’ll give them to you, but it won’t change anything. I’ve returned every piece that’s been taken and gave a very generous donation to the Vatican Church. It was anonymous, but you know it was me.”
His arms moved to the armrests, and he made himself right at home—like he’d been here before.
“I feel no affection for these elitist weirdos. Their obsession with French culture and prosperity and proprietary is fucking obnoxious. But they didn’t hurt or kill anyone in their theft.
All the items have been returned in the same condition in which they were taken, and I personally came down here and apologized, and I meant it.
Perhaps you should take a note from the man you clearly admire and offer some forgiveness. ”
Constantine chuckled. “I may respect His Holiness, but that doesn’t mean our ideologies align.”
“We’ve known each other a long time. You know I just took over for Bastien after a lot of shit went down.
The Aristocrats were nearly destroyed by us, and now they’re rebuilding under new leadership.
I would like this new relationship to start on good terms. No matter how many cockroaches are killed, the nest will live on. ”
“How is this my problem?” he asked coldly.
“Because it’s diplomacy—just as this relationship is diplomacy.”
“I’ve never been good at that shit.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
He watched me for a while before he propped his chin on his closed knuckles.
“Let’s move on, Constantine.”
He continued to stare at me like he hadn’t listened to a word I said, his mind elsewhere. “If you aren’t going to do what I asked, then I want something else in substitution.”
Of course he did.
“I call in a favor whenever I want—no questions asked.”
I drew in a slow breath. “Maybe I should just give you their heads, then.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?” He rubbed his hand across the shadow of his jawline, comfortable in the Apostolic Palace like it was his second or third home.
“Whatever the favor is, it can’t make me a traitor to my country. I won’t work against France or any of its allies.”
“Done.”
I’d just made a deal with an Emperor, and only time would tell if it was a grave mistake. “So…what’s new with you?”
“Asshole, don’t act like we’re friends.”
“Then what are we? Because you just asked me to have your back without explanation.”
He rubbed his palms together. “Business is good. Pussy is good. What about you?”
“Same.”
“Well.” He clapped his hands together. “Looks like we’re all caught up.”