I study the faces around me—Sullivan’s strategic mind, Lucia’s theological brilliance, Chen’s global perspective. Perhaps I’m not as isolated as my enemies believe.
Father Tomás clears his throat. “Your Holiness, while this support is encouraging, there is another matter requiring attention.” He glances nervously at the others.
“Speak freely, Tomás. Everyone here has my complete trust.”
He straightens. “There are rumours circulating about your… friendship with Prime Minister Valentini. Specifically, the frequency and privacy of your meetings.”
My heart stutters. “What kind of rumours?”
“Nothing explicit yet,” Tomás says carefully. “But questions about why the Pope needs so many private consultations with the Prime Minister. Why security protocols have been modified for these meetings. Why both of you disappeared during the assassination attempt.”
I feel heat rising to my face. “These meetings concern matters of state security and our joint financial investigation.”
“Of course, Your Holiness,” Tomás says gently. “I’m simply reporting what’s being whispered. Cardinal Antonelli specifically mentioned your ‘excessive meetings’ with the Prime Minister after yesterday’s Curia gathering.”
Sullivan and Lucia exchange glances. Chen studies me with compassionate eyes.
“They’re looking for vulnerabilities,” Sullivan says finally. “Any connection they can exploit.”
I stand and walk to the window again, my back to them while I compose myself. The thought of not seeing Matteo creates a physical ache I hadn’t anticipated. These meetings have become essential to me—not just for our work together but for the moments of genuine connection in a world where I’m increasingly isolated.
“Your Holiness,” Sister Lucia speaks softly. “Whatever your relationship is with the Prime Minister, your enemies will use it against you if they can.”
I turn back to face them. “The meetings are necessary for our joint investigation. And yes, I value the Prime Minister’s perspective and… friendship.” The word feels inadequate, but it’s all I can offer publicly.
“Then we must protect both the meetings and your reputation,”Sullivan says pragmatically. “Captain Lombardi of the Swiss Guard—can he be trusted?”
“Completely,” I confirm. “He’s already implementing enhanced security for these meetings.”
“Good. We’ll create official justifications for each meeting—formal diplomatic necessities that even Antonelli can’t question.” Sullivan’s mind is already working on the problem.
“And we should vary the locations,” Chen suggests. “Not always the Vatican. Perhaps the Italian government could host occasionally, making it clearly official business.”
I nod, grateful for their practical approach rather than moral judgment. “I’ll speak with Captain Lombardi.”
“Your Holiness,” Tomás says hesitantly. “May I speak personally for a moment?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve served three popes before you. I’ve seen the isolation of this office, the burden it places on a man’s soul.” He pauses. “Whatever comfort or connection you find in these difficult times… I believe God understands the human heart better than any doctrine can express.”
His words nearly undo me. This from Tomás, who once embodied traditional Vatican thinking but has gradually evolved as he’s witnessed my struggles.
“Thank you, Tomás,” I manage.
Sister Lucia reaches out and briefly touches my hand—a gesture of solidarity that would shock Vatican traditionalists. “We’re with you, Marco. Not just for your reforms, but for you.”
I look around at these four people—my unlikely alliance against centuries of entrenched power. “Then we move forward. With the synod, with the financial investigation, with everything. But carefully, strategically.”
“And your meetings with the Prime Minister?” Sullivan asks gently.
I think of Matteo—his strength, his conviction, the way his presence makes me feel both more human and more connected to the divine.
“They continue,” I say firmly. “With increased security and discretion. Captain Lombardi will ensure both.”
None of them object. In their eyes, I see not judgment but concern for my safety and mission.
“Then let us pray,” I say, “for wisdom and courage. We’ll need both in abundance.”
