The Vatican Princess by C. W. Gortner

Author:C. W. Gortner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

I decided to meet him in the Biblioteca Apostolica, the Vatican Library, which housed the priceless papal collection of rare tomes and codices, illuminated manuscripts and ancient scrolls. I thought it the perfect venue, inspired by my sight of him with a book at Mass—but Sancia was taken aback.

“Not a garden, loggia, or even a private house,” she said, “but some dusty place full of old papers? Lucrezia, are you certain? It’s hardly the setting for a romantic encounter.”

“If your brother is the prince I think he is,” I assured her, “he’ll understand.”

On the appointed day, I donned a hooded cape and left my palazzo alone, having told Pantalisea and my other women that Papa wished to sup with me.

I had once paid a brief childhood visit to the cavernous library on the ground floor of the Apostolic Palace, north of the Cortile dei Pappagalli. I still remembered it. My father was then vice-chancellor to Pope Innocent; taking me by the hand, he guided me past the reception room adorned with half-finished frescoes into four vast chambers filled with scriptorium. The vaulted ceilings were grazed by tall rows of shelves that, to my awestruck eyes, appeared about to topple over, laden with books and sheaves. I had noticed a distinct odor, humidity mixed with dust, and a strange arid smell that made me think of a desert, though I’d never seen one. When I commented on it, Papa replied, “That, farfallina, is the perfume of knowledge.”

The same perfume now welcomed me as I stepped over the threshold and the head librarian in his dark robe and cap bustled up to greet me. Pushing back my cowl, I surveyed the now-finished paintings on the walls and ceiling, colorful sibyls unfurling papyri at the feet of Archimedes and Ctesibius of Alexandria.

The librarian peered at me through his thick spectacles. He said anxiously, “His Highness has already arrived. You requested privacy, Donna, and so I’ve closed the archives to visitors, citing the need to inventory a new shipment. But, begging your forgiveness, I fear I must ask…I must emphasize…”

I suppressed my amusement as he faltered. This was a first. Did this fussy little man actually think that I planned to entertain a lover on a makeshift bed of his precious parchments?

He started when I set a hand on his sleeve. “You needn’t worry,” I said. “I promise we will leave everything exactly as we found it. There shall be no impropriety—though I must ask you to keep this matter between us.” I removed a pouch from my cloak. “For your troubles,” I added, as his pallid face turned red at the quantity of my bribe.

I moved past him, the brush of my skirts echoing on the floor.

The library looked, if possible, more congested than I recalled; books and portfolios overflowed their berths, spilling in brittle waterfalls into random heaps. There were piles of scrolls along the walls and a pyramid of unpacked crates on a nearby bench, stamped with my father’s insignia of the papal keys and bull.

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