In a moment of rebellion, I hissed, “I feel hatred toward my mother and disgust for the pope.”
“And your heart must be heavy…”
It was, it was so heavy my eyes overfilled. “I cannot help but think of the rape of Tamar, King David’s daughter.”
Yes, I knew the unspoken story. Not only could I read, but my papa had gifted me with my own priceless copy of the scriptures. I had read them front to back, devouring the wisdom and trials of those who had lived long before me.
“Ahhh.” Cardinal Beluni nodded. “Raped by her prince half-brother and cast out by his hate once his lust was filled.”
As if to drive my statement home, I muttered Tamar’s own words, “Don’t force me. Such a thing should not be done in Israel! Don’t do this wicked thing.”
The cardinal countered, “For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor.”
“Yes!” I agreed with all my heart.
Hooded eyes glanced down upon me. “The pope will not rape you.”
I thought of the man, his wretched smell and hideous body. I thought of the lies, the shame, my fear, and gagged. “My husband will not have me if you do this. God says, ‘And he shall take a wife in her virginity. A widow, or a divorced woman, or a woman who has been defiled, or a prostitute, these he shall not marry. But he shall take as his wife a virgin of his own people.’ You would send me to him ruined.”
“Blessed,” the cardinal countered. “Filled with God’s love.”
I wanted to die. To run screaming from the room. But I was the coward my mother had labeled me. Because more than anything, I was afraid I would already be sentenced to hell. “Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.”
A voice soft as a feather poured over me. “There will be no fornication. What is to be done is outside blame for you and His Holiness. I swear to you, child, you will leave the room as pure as you entered it.”
Had the Virgin Mary wept as I did?
As if Beluni could read my thoughts, he urged, “We are not done with your confession.”
I wanted so dearly to feel clean. So dearly that I was willing to spill out my guts to anyone who might listen. “I am wicked, and feel hatred for holy men.”
“And…”
I began to cry, something my mama had made me swear on the lives of my brothers I would not do. “I am frightened.”
“Did Lady Arermici not give you wine?
Beyond communion, I had never tasted it. “Wine is not permitted, Your Eminence.”
“It is tonight.” His voice had grown tight again, the drop in tone sending all my hairs to stand. “I offer you a goblet of the blood of Christ.”
“But I have not yet been forgiven for my sins.”
He spoke the Latin benediction quickly, failing to ascribe penance before thrusting a golden chalice into my hands. “Swallow it now. Every drop.”
I did as I was told, noting an astringent flavor that tasted as poisonous as the cardinal’s soul.
“Rise, my daughter.”
His drugs worked quickly, my legs too weighty to shift.
Chapter Six
I had never known such suffering.
Or such disgust.
But not one word of rejection could be voiced aloud. Not with Cardinal Beluni’s palm clamped over my screaming mouth.