Chapter 5 Constantine
Constantine
Because it was the fucking pope, I had to check in with security just like everyone else. I never showed up to the Vatican with any weapons because no one was permitted to carry anything in his presence except his private security team.
I was family, and that still wasn’t good enough.
While all the tourists and visitors entered the grounds and then the papal gardens before they began their tour of the museums and the Sistine Chapel, I was escorted through Saint Peter’s Square and to the right of the basilica next to the museum and the Sistine Chapel.
Pope Zephyrinus occupied the Apostolic Palace, and I was escorted directly into his study, the back of his desk underneath the large window that had a breathtaking view of Saint Peter’s Square.
I took a seat and waited for him to join me.
“Constantine.”
I immediately rose to my feet at the sound of his voice. I turned to him with a big smile on my face and extended my hand to his. “Your Holiness.”
Two guards were in the room, lingering a short distance away.
He was in his seventies, his skin wrinkled in many places but still tanned from being outdoors or from the illumination of God’s light.
He wore glasses on the bridge of his nose, and his red robes distinguished his power.
He turned slightly to the guards behind him, then made a single gesture with his hand, dismissing them from our presence.
The guards left and the door shut.
I was one of the few people in the world who could speak to the pope in complete privacy.
Call it nepotism.
He beamed at me like I was his own son, his energy full of so much warmth and vitality. Very few people looked at me like that, except my family and Medusa—and now Aurelia.
“How are you, my son?”
“I’m well, Father. And you?”
“I’m always well.” He gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk.
We sat together, me across from him.
With his hands together in his lap, he waited for me to speak first. When I couldn’t find the words, he took the reins—as always. “You’re troubled by a weight I can’t see, Constantine.”
“Yes.”
“Share your burden.”
“There’s so much going on lately, and I feel like I’ve barely been able to keep up with it all.”
He nodded in understanding.
“President Barsetti is disappointed I haven’t caught Vladimir yet, but I’m close. And he’s upset about the commotion I caused last week. I’m sure you heard about it.”
He nodded. “As did everyone, Constantine.”
“I lost my temper . . . may have taken it too far, but I feel no remorse.”
He nodded again.
“What does that say about me, Father? That I burn men in the streets . . . and feel nothing.”
The silence dragged on and on. His eyes left mine, and he seemed deep in thought, truly thinking about the words I shared with him.
“I’m not here to pass judgment on the choices of others.
All I can do is guide you closer to God.
But I will say . . . we’re two leaders in two different kingdoms. You in the kingdom of men—and me in the kingdom of God.
Men are more corrupt and more readily tempted.
They’re flawed and easily misled. To excuse or pardon the crimes of the guilty is to condemn the needy, the poor, and the vulnerable.
Perhaps you feel nothing for those who cause pain because you’re too busy protecting those who have received that pain.
And the fact that you come to me to share these burdens tells me you’re a humble man before the eyes of God. ”
That was always how he spoke, and I’d gotten used to it over the years.
Whenever I felt at my worst, his presence seemed to bring the light back into my darkness.
“It’s come to my attention there may be an attack on our country and our people, and the Skull King is probably indirectly responsible for it.
Selling arms to our enemies in the east.”
He gave a nod in understanding.
“I need to speak to him, but I’m afraid I’ll kill him.”
With eyes that held no judgment for anyone on this earth, he continued to listen to me.
“You’re the only man he respects and reveres.” Because everyone in this country, and the world, revered the man before me. Whether you were a civilian or a criminal, it didn’t matter.
“It’s not my place, Constantine. All I can do is bring him closer to God.”
“But perhaps I can speak to him here—so I’ll behave and so will he.
” Because all I’d want to do would be to pull out my knife and carve his mouth from his face, his eyes from their sockets.
I couldn’t think of the man without my heart racing, without my blood pressure skyrocketing.
Every fiber of my being wanted him dead, and I’d want him dead until I was dead myself.
After another round of packed silence, Pope Zephyrinus addressed my request. “My service is not only to God, but to my fellow man, to the people of this country, and to this world. So yes, I will mediate your meeting.”
“Thank you, Father.”
He gave a nod in acknowledgment. “How’s your family?”
“Good. Living their idyllic lives in Taormina.”
“And the restaurant?”
“Business is good. Too good, honestly.”
He gave a quiet chuckle. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had your mother’s arancini.”
“You’re always welcome for a visit, but we understand you have bigger obligations.” Like being the head of the Catholic Church and the most famous man alive.
“Maybe someday, Constantine.”
“Yeah, maybe someday.” We both spoke of it like it was a dream that would never come true.
“What else is new with you?”
I was the busiest I’d ever been at work.
But that ebb and flow was typical. There was a reign of peace between the wars, and even though that period could be long, it felt so brief.
“Well . . . I’ve met someone.” The smile that came on to my face was impossible to restrain.
There had never been anyone in my life who made me as happy as she did . . . at least not in nine years.
“That’s wonderful, Constantine. Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Aurelia.”
“Gilded. Noble. Beautiful name.”
“Yeah, I like it too,” I said. “She . . . means a lot to me.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had someone.”
A long time since Isabella. “It has.”
“I wish the two of you the best.” He rose to his feet, his hands together and hidden under the long sleeves of his robe.
I rose to my feet as well.
He came to me and blessed me. “God be with you, Constantine.”
“And with you, Uncle.”