I burst into my father’s rooms, jubilant. “I have the agreement, Father,” I said, holding up a roll of parchment. “Louis has agreed to it and signed.”
“Has he? Excellent! Let us see,” Father said, holding out his hand.
I unrolled the parchment and placed it upon the desk before him.
The last months had been a flurry of negotiations between the new King of France, Louis XII, and I. King Charles had died suddenly in April—oddly enough, another event Savonarola had prophesied—and to our surprise and delight we found the new French monarch eager to reverse his predecessor’s stance and become as friendly as possible with the papacy.
Our old allies in Spain certainly hadn’t been any help. Ferdinand opposed the prospect of my match with Princess Carlotta and had been heard to mutter about the Borgias lusting for the entire Italian peninsula.
He was right.
In addition, Their Most Catholic Majesties made no secret of their shocked disapproval at my leaving the Church. Spanish though we might be, Father and I had no interest in creating a puppet papacy for the Spanish monarchs, and so we had decided to look farther afield for allies. The new French king, in need of our favor if he wished to press his claims to Naples and Milan, was a perfect candidate, and an alliance with France might serve to bring Ferdinand and Isabella back in line.
The situation was perfect, because the French king wanted something from the Holy See—namely, to set aside his barren wife and marry Charles’s widow, Anne of Brittany, so he might keep Brittany under the jurisdiction of France. Only the pope could give him this.
The king would have his divorce; I’d made sure of that. And we would have what we needed in return. Impatient to see it all done, and done according to my specifications, I’d conducted most of the negotiations myself, consulting with the pope along the way.
“It is as we discussed,” I said as Father read over the agreement. “We shall see to his annulment and provide him with a dispensation to marry Anne of Brittany. In return, once I have put aside the cardinal’s hat, he shall bestow upon me the duchy of Valentinois and welcome me at the French court. He will also support my bid for the hand of Carlotta of Aragon.”
Father’s eyes continued to skim down the page. “And an army,” he said quietly. “He shall put an army at your disposal. And mine.”
“Yes,” I said. “We can begin to forge of Italy one nation, as we always said. I shall start by subduing the barons of the Romagna, who spit on Rome’s authority as their overlord.”
He waved a hand. “Sit, Cesare.” I took a chair beside his desk. He glanced at me. “You must not be too hasty. The first step is to go to France, take possession of your estate, and find a wife. Everything else will follow.”
“It will,” I agreed. “I do not mean to get ahead of myself. But know I shall achieve all that I stated I would. It all starts now. I finally have the tools at my disposal.”
“You do indeed,” he said. “Very well. Next month we shall have you announce in consistory that you are renouncing the cardinalcy. And soon after, you shall go to France.”
I left the room, exultant, to find Michelotto waiting for me. “So, Your Eminence?” he asked. “Are we bound for France?”
“We are, soon enough,” I said. “And shortly you shall no longer need to address me as Your Eminence.”
“All went well?” he asked, nodding toward the papal apartments.
“Yes. He has the agreement. The die is cast. And when I return to Italy, it shall be at the head of an army, as a conqueror.”
“And His Holiness is in support of your aims?”
I thought of Father’s reluctance, his desire that I slow down in my ambition. But it did not matter. Not anymore. For I would be the one at the head of the army, not him. “This is what he has always wanted our family to achieve. His Holiness shall continue to keep the keys to Heaven, and I shall have the keys to his earthly kingdom. The much more immediate kingdom.”
Michelotto studied me. “And what do you call the keeper of the one who keeps the keys?”
My lips curled into something that I was sure was more a sneer than a smile. “God.”