Chapter 3: The Ill Cardinal (1/2)
The Cathedral of the Holy Thorn faces directly onto Miracle Square, a vast public square dating back to the Roman era. At its peak, it could accommodate up to 10,000 people for gatherings. After inheriting this legacy, the Church spent considerable effort renovating the square, erecting the Thorned Wings and the Fountain of Grace, symbols of divinity, at its centre. These were meant to be admired and visited by devout pilgrims. Surrounding the square are the palaces of the Church’s bishops and several inns. Directly opposite is the Cathedral of the Holy Thorn, specifically used for papal coronations and high masses, as well as the Papal Palace.
On the second floor of the cathedral, facing Miracle Square, a large terrace was specifically built for the Pope to address the public and deliver sermons. The Church’s architects, demonstrating exceptional talent, crafted a terrace of exquisite design. Not only could it ensure that the Pope could be seen by as many people as possible, but with the help of ubiquitous brass sound amplification devices, even those at the far end of the square could hear his holy words.
Cascading bouquets adorned the snow-white, ornate balustrade of the terrace, predominantly featuring the white lily symbolizing the Church and the iris representing the Pope himself. These were complemented by bishop’s tassels, Madonna lilies, champagne roses, and laurel leaves. Surrounding the central papal coat of arms were the coats of arms of the eighteen cardinals of Florence, symbolizing their allegiance and obedience to the Pope.
The vast square was packed with people, from the ragged paupers to the bejeweled nobility, all eagerly awaiting. Windows overlooking the square were wide open, and colorful heads leaned out as people excitedly greeted each other, waving flowers and papal flags.
When the young Pope, clad in a scarlet cape and a white robe, appeared on the flower-adorned terrace, a thunderous roar of applause erupted. The crowd surged like waves, and people involuntarily waved their flowers, hats, or whatever they had in their hands, paying their respects to the new Pope of Florence.
The gentlemen dismounted, took off their hats and bowed. The ladies sitting in their carriages also came out, lifted their skirts and performed a deep curtsey to the newly enthroned Holy Father on the terrace.
Colorful silks, flowers, and cheers merged into a vast ocean, and everyone looked at the monarch on the terrace with excitement and anticipation.
“Oh my, he’s as beautiful as the Holy Son in a painting!”
The woman who got up early and fought for a good seat was dressed in tattered clothes. She clapped her palms red and spoke to her husband in a hoarse voice amid the cheers.
“He is the Holy Father!” Her husband joked, not very humorously, but clearly agreeing with his wife.
“He’s more handsome than all the previous Holy Fathers—why, he looks a bit like Pope Vitalian III,’” a woman standing nearby overheard their conversation and eagerly joined in.”
“Yes, yes, but if he’s willing to add a major holy day every month and send us wine, I’ll fight you to the death over who’s better looking, him or Pope Vitalian III,” the man joked again.
This time his wife rolled her eyes and gave a noncommittal humph.
The noble women in their carriages were much more reserved. They exchanged glances with their companions calmly, conveying their emotions through flushed cheeks and tacit glances to each other – these social butterflies were masters of controlling their emotions. They were skilled at using veiled language to mock or praise, seeking prey for love and pleasure—and the primary criterion, of course, was a beautiful appearance.
Clearly, the new Pope possessed a perfect appearance that even the most critical of ladies couldn’t fault.
People of this era were not yet bound by strict religious doctrines. They pursued carnal desires and pleasures with raw, unbridled freedom. While the Church preached marital fidelity, even bishops had a dozen illegitimate children – this was not something to be ashamed of. The high infant mortality rate made every child extremely precious. They could obtain titles and inherit estates, seemingly no different from legitimate offspring.
Previously, Pope Leo VI had even issued a papal bull1 officially acknowledging an illegitimate child.
With such a rebellious Pope setting the precedent, the noble ladies did not mind having an affair with the clergy and giving birth to one or two children for them, especially when the new Pope had such a brilliant appearance.
Setting aside their thoughts for the moment, Rafael, accustomed to such admiring gazes, adjusted the parchment scroll tucked into his bouquet, raised his hands slightly – and lowered them, an elegant and powerful gesture. R
The tsunami of cheers slowly died down, and the people held their breath, listening attentively to the young Pope’s speech.
“Brothers and sisters, by the grace of God, we are gathered here...”
The Pope’s voice, unhurried and resonant, was carried far and wide by the bronze pipes buried around the terrace and beneath the square.
“...When the Lord bore the thorns, tore his wings, and sat upon the rock, revealing to the world the miracle of resurrection, the foundations of this great city of Florence were laid. The land beneath our feet is stained with the blood of saints and watched over by God. The steps to Heaven were forged here, and the worldly monarchs placed their crowns at the feet of Florence, proving the unparalleled status of the holy city in the world...”