"King Luxenberg, with the work you are doing over in Simbar to spread the word of God, I will exempt you from atonement. My only wish is for you to continue that work and look to strengthen the Church's power in the region. If all goes well, I will appoint a cardinal to be stationed in the capital city," Pope Constantine said in an authoritative tone, before turning his attention to Prince Alphonse.
"As for you Prince Alphonse, if you want to be King of this continent, you will need to atone for the role you have played in this civil war."
Alphonse wanted to be as defiant as Victor, but he knew that in the face of the Pope he could do no such thing. The Pope may not command a large army or be a renowned warrior, but the influence he had on the Christian faith which was now spread across three continents was domineering.
With the Pope being the spiritual father and servant leader of the Church, many people reverred him. He holds the highest teaching authority, safeguarding Christians in faith and morals under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Alphonse could not dare to make an enemy of him, especially when he has not established himself as a king yet. As such he replied, "It is only right, your Holiness. If it is within my ability, I will do my best to atone for my part in this long civil war."
The Pope smiled warmly, almost making Alphonse comfortable. He placed his hand upon Alphonse's shoulder and stated what the atonement would be. "To atone for the vast amount of death and damage done to the Christian people of this land, you must grant the Church the lands of the Florent family, specifically Florenzia and the county it presides over."
Victor was not surprised when the Pope demanded land from Alphonse. Given the scale of the civil war and how long it lasted, the Pope was in a strong position to demand a great payment. It may have been a big ask, but it was not unreasonable.
The prince's jaw tightened.
"Holy Father," he said, choosing his words with care, "those lands will soon be taken by my house by right of conquest. The Florents raised arms against me and usurped my crown. They will face my retribution soon enough, but their lands will feed my people, clothe my soldiers. Would you have me trade justice for piety?"
The Pope leaned forward slightly, and in that motion the light caught the silver of his hair like a halo.
"Justice," he murmured, "is not yours to define. The Church remembers the hundreds of thousands who have died for this silly succession war. Their blood cries louder than your right of conquest."
The prince looked up then, defiance flashing like a blade. "And if I refuse?"
A smile, faint and terrible, crossed the pontiff's lips.
"Then I fear Heaven itself shall refuse you. Your name, your heirs, your crown—all shall bear the mark of rebellion against the Church. You know well what becomes of princes without absolution."
Alphonse originally planned to submit to the Pope's demands, but the lands owned by the Florent family were plentiful. The city of Florenzia was the second grandest city on the continent. To give that up to the Church would be a massive blow to Alphonse.
Alphonse bowed his head—not in submission, but in thought. His fingers curled into a fist at his side. The Florent lands were more than soil; they were key to rebuilding his new kingdom.
When he finally spoke, his tone was calm, but his eyes were fire.
"Then, Holy Father, grant me time to pray on the matter."
The Pope regarded him in silence, then raised a hand in benediction that felt more like a verdict.
"Pray swiftly, my son. The soul's delay often tempts the sword."
As Pope Constantine IV began to leave the room, he sternly said, "You have 3 days to come to a decision. If not, the Church will not tolerate rebellion."
With the Pope no longer in the palace, Alphonse summoned all of his trusted advisors to the throne room to consult on this matter. As he rested upon the throne, Victor stood next to him, symbolising that they were equals. In front of them were mostly Zandarian people of importance, with a few Luxenberg Commanders in attendance.
In a low and cold voice, Alphonsed stated. "He means to strip me bare. The Florent lands are not even mine yet, but they will be a significant boost to the kingdom. If I yield, I lose out on so many resources, so many soldiers, and I allow a powerful entity to control an important county."
Matteo Vegni, his hands, ever cautious.
"My Prince, the Pope wields more than scripture. His word can unmake kings. Excommunication would open the gates to rebellion. Many of the nobles are faithful—too faithful."
Luca Sozzini scoffed, his disdain apparent.
"Faithful, yes, but to gold and steel. Let the Holy Father threaten all he wishes; his legions are words, ours are men. One decree from his Church cannot cross a mountain faster than a sword."
Prince Alphonse turned sharply toward him.
"You think I have not weighed that? That I could bear the blood of holy men on my conscience? No—The Church fights not with soldiers, but with souls."
An elderly man, who was a newly appointed minister, stepped forward, his voice gentle, sorrow in his eyes.
"Your Grace, defiance of the Church is not merely peril—it is damnation. The Pope's hand may be harsh, but it is the hand of Heaven."
Alphonse's expression softened, but only for a moment.
"Heaven does not covet farmland."
The words hung in the air, shocking in their candour. Even the elderly minister drew back slightly, his lips moving in a silent prayer.
Matteo Vegni cleared his throat, breaking the tension.
"If I may, My Prince… there is room for diplomacy. Offer the Church a tithe—a token—let the Holy See taste obedience without seizing Florenzia."
Alphonse stared into the distance for a long moment. Trying to envision the right outcome.
"A tithe," he murmured. "And if he refuses?"
Matteo's gaze flicked to Luca Sozzini's.
"Then perhaps the Church will discover its saints bleed as easily as any man."
Silence fell again. Only the fire dared speak, crackling softly like whispered counsel from devils and angels alike.
At last, the prince turned toward the window. Outside, the bells of Roma still tolled faintly in the distance.
"Prepare the offer," he said. "Let His Holiness think me penitent. But keep the guard ready. The Church may claim to serve God, yet I have seen men of the cloth sharpen their knives as keenly as soldiers."
He looked at the crowd of men before him, his eyes weary but unyielding.
"If I must choose between the favour of Heaven and the life of my people… I will stand with the living."