With Constantine budging to offer a compromise, a messenger relayed this information to Pope Constantie IV. With the Prince's willingness to offer a third of the lands and tithe from Florenzia, the Pope convened his cardinals to discuss.
Out of 6 cardinals, 5 were in attendance as the cardinal from Bulgar would never have been able to answer the summons, especially when he is old and frail and nearing death's door.
In the cathedral with the morning sun glaring through the stained glass, the gathering of top church officials began to discuss the compromise proposed by Alphonse. Cardinals in crimson robes formed a semicircle before the papal dais, their faces tense, their rings catching the flicker of sunlight like small, rays of divinity.
The Pope sat above them, not reclining but poised, a statue given breath. His silver eyes shone as bright as the sun but with cold clarity.
"Well?" Cardinal Rufus asked breaking the tense silence, voice quivering with barely restrained anxiety. "Does Prince Visconte submit? Will he return the Florent lands as penance?"
The Pope's expression did not change. "No," he said softly. "He 'considered' my demand and offered what he believed to be a fair compromise."
A ripple of unease passed through the room.
Cardinal Bellori, an elderly man with thinning white hair and eyes as black as night scowled deeply. "Then he mocks the Church. He spits on the Holy See and hides behind Luxenberg's shadow."
Another cardinal spoke, younger and but temperate. "Holiness… Prince Alphonse is volatile. Press him too hard, and we risk igniting a war in streets of Roma. The city may not endure another conflict."
These were well spoken words by Cardinal Crispus, his hazel green eyes remained steadfast as he swished his curly brown hair out the way. He was no stranger to the mood of the city, when the siege had concluded, it was he who lead the church to give aid to the wounded and those who suffered during the battle.
"Let us speak plainly," he said, his voice calm as water beneath winter ice. "Alphonse Visconte is a child of pride and petty gains. He clings to land not for the glory of God, but for his own vanity. The Florent lands are not the price of atonement. They are the proof of obedience."
He rose from the throne, and every cardinal lowered their head instinctively as his shadow stretched across them.
"King Victor wishes a compromise," Constantine continued. "He asks for patience. He hopes to tame his ally with honeyed words."
A faint smile touched his lips—almost sorrowful, almost amused.
"But God does not accept half-offerings."
He stepped down from the dais, moving among the cardinals like a shepherd among sheep, though none dared meet his gaze.
"Prince Alphonse must yield. If he will not do so willingly, we must ensure he understands the weight of divine will."
One of the younger cardinals, Cardinal Naso swallowed. "Holiness… what do you propose?"
Constantine stopped beside him. The candlelight haloed him, softening nothing.
"We will not take Florent by force," he said. "Not yet."
"For now we will have to concede. King Victor would be a troublesome enemy for us. He is a war hero, beloved by his people and has brought the word of God to a foreign continent. At this time we cannot risk drawing him into our feud with Prince Alphonse."
Cardinal Rossini's eyes widened. "So you would wait to make a move after King Victor departs from our shores."
Constantine stopped beside him. The sunlight haloed him, softening nothing.
"When Victor leaves, he will stand alone," Constantine replied. "We will sway the nobles to champion our cause and pressure Alphonse to hand over the lands at a later date. Without Victor's military might and steady presence, we will get those lands one way or another."
He returned to the dais, gathering the folds of his robes as he sat once more beneath the gilded canopy.
"Once his nobles are on our side, he will come to this cathedral not as a defiant prince, but as a penitent son. And he will bring me the Florent lands himself."
A heavy silence followed. Then Cardinal Bellori bowed deeply.
"It will be done, Holiness. We shall put plans in place to lure away the smaller nobles that support him before, moving onto the likes of his cousin, Luca Sozzini"
The Pope closed his eyes briefly, as though in prayer.
When he opened them again, they gleamed not with piety, but with the certainty of a man who believed fate itself bent to his will.
"Begin," he said. "He has chosen hesitation. Let us teach him what such a choice costs."
And outside the high cathedral windows, a cold wind swept across Roma—carrying with it the first hint of the storm that was brewing.
With the Pope agreeing to the compromise, a legal document was written up outlining the terms of this penance. The Church would gain good quality farmlands in their third of the Florent lands, while also receiving a tithe from Florenzia.
Now that the matter with the Church was settled, Alphonse and Victor put their energy into a more productive avenue. The destruction of the Red Visconte faction. Lorenzo's eldest son, Giovanni Visconte now assumed the mantle as the leader of the Red Visconte faction.
Giovanni and his brother Felix were in Madena with their mother and uncle, while Queen Maria was in Florenzia with her brother Tomasso. With the faction's key figures split between the two pivotal cities, there was the question of where to attack first.
For everyone involved in the planning of the war against the Red Visconte faction, the obvious target was taking the Florent lands right away. Tomasso and Maria both held the most power and influence in the faction, so taking them would stop any nobles who were hanging on the fence from joining their faction.
Florenzia was a 6 week march south, but with the defection of a handful of nobles from the Red Visconte faction. The journey to the second grandest city on the continent would be easy.