Festina Lente

Chapter Eight: The Pope's Miscalculation

5th of November 1530 - Rome, Italy

Walking through the halls of the Vatican, Ippolito couldn't help but feel angry at the news that he had just been given; he could not believe that the Pope had dared have Clarice stripped of her titles to be given to some relative of theirs. 

He had worried after the loss of his own titles, which had been given by the Pope to Alessandro de' Medici that his sister would be next; his compensation for such a loss had been to become a Cardinal. 

This was not something that he had ever wanted for himself instead, he would have much preferred to remain as ruler of Florence; no matter what titles and riches that were bestowed upon him it would not make up for what he had lost. 

Now his sister had suffered the same, what had been said to King Francis to make him hand her birth right over to another had not yet reached his ears but Ippolito could very well imagine what had been commanded by the Pope. 

Storming into the chamber where he knew that Clement would be, he ignored the looks that the cardinals offered him upon entry; he cared not for what they discussed only wanting answers for what had happened. 

"Francis has gifted my sister's title and lands over to her uncle," Ippolito stated glaring at Clement who did not at all look surprise that the younger man had come to speak with him. 

With a wave of his hand, Clement dismissed the other cardinals that were gathered; this conversation was best kept private and he was aware that even the walls had ears here in the Vatican. 

Once they were alone, Clement turned to Ippolito doubting that the man would truly understand why he had done as he had; he knew just what was at stake if Catherine did not remain the Queen of England.

"Clarice has not done as I have asked. The Emperor reports that she has taken the harlot's side in all matters of court in England," Clement stated leaning back in his chair, he watched Ippolito take the seat opposite and wondered just how Clarice had allowed herself to be swayed from God's mission. 

The Vicar of Rome was certain of his plot to have Clarice replace the whore and even better if the King would set his sights upon her to become Queen of England.

He could imagine it now, he would usher in a golden age for the Medici and it had all started with Ippolito; he had plans to make the young man the next Pope when he was gone, only then would the Medici legacy be secure. 

Catherine de' Medici would become the Queen of France, Clarice would become the Queen of England once the ill-fated Queen Katherine had been dealt with of course. 

The Emperor would not have the need to grumble so once his aunt had passed on and his cousin was treated well; she'd be married off to one of the Spanish princes and her claim to the throne would not matter when Clarice gave the King a son. 

"And what of her dowry? She is the daughter of a Duke. She deserves a suitable match," Ippolito argued not understanding what Clement hope to gain from all of this. 

He had cautioned her to be careful while she was in England, he knew what Clement had asked of her and had prayed daily that his sister would not act against her conscious when there was so much at stake. 

Ippolito cared not for the affairs of the court or who a King he had not met married; he cared about his sister, the only family that he could count on to have his back. 

Despite him being a bastard, Clarice had treated him as her brother; caring not for the status that his birth had given him and he was forever thankful for that. 

"Sacrifices have to be made Ippolito," Clement spoke softly, he would not reveal his grand plan to the other man nor had he spoken of his ambitions to anyone in fear that should he do so that they might end up in the ear of the Emperor.