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mistress of the vatican.pdf - End Time Deception

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Eleanor Herman<br />

nephew. But Olimpia realized that allowing <strong>the</strong> princess <strong>of</strong> Rossano<br />

into <strong>the</strong> family would be like opening <strong>the</strong> gates <strong>of</strong> Rome to <strong>the</strong> Goths,<br />

or perhaps inviting <strong>the</strong> Lu<strong>the</strong>rans back in for ano<strong>the</strong>r sack. This was<br />

not a woman to meekly accept orders from her mo<strong>the</strong>r-in-law. Here<br />

was a woman as smart, grasping, ambitious, and manipulative as Olimpia<br />

herself.<br />

It is likely that Olimpia was not averse to fighting her battles with a<br />

daughter-in-law—she had, over <strong>the</strong> course <strong>of</strong> her life, taken on much<br />

worse and come out victorious. But what frightened her most was <strong>the</strong><br />

thought <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pope’s reaction to this charming new niece. There would<br />

be frequent interaction between Innocent and <strong>the</strong> princess, <strong>of</strong> course—<br />

lunches, dinners, banquets, religious events, and <strong>the</strong> more <strong>of</strong>ficial papal<br />

audiences in which <strong>the</strong> lovely bride would request honors and benefits<br />

for her family and friends and would try to influence papal policy.<br />

Olimpia knew that <strong>the</strong> princess <strong>of</strong> Rossano, with her words as smooth,<br />

sweet, and golden as honey, would be able to convince <strong>the</strong> pope to do<br />

whatever she asked. And those honors and benefits could very well be<br />

<strong>the</strong> exact ones Olimpia had her eye on, and those papal policies might<br />

directly contradict what she was conniving at.<br />

Olimpia knew that even if by some saintly miracle she could suddenly<br />

once more become twenty-three, <strong>the</strong> charms <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> princess would<br />

have beaten hers hands down; and now she was fifty-five. The princess’s<br />

figure was slender, shapely, achingly perfect. Olimpia’s was, well, that <strong>of</strong><br />

a fifty-five-year-old who enjoyed her dinners. Her jowls were sagging,<br />

and <strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong>re was that pesky double chin.<br />

Olimpia was <strong>of</strong> mediocre birth, <strong>the</strong> unwanted daughter <strong>of</strong> a rural assistant<br />

tax collector. The princess boasted close connections to three papal<br />

bloodlines and was a cousin <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> reigning duke <strong>of</strong> Parma. Olimpia<br />

had received <strong>the</strong> most rudimentary education; her conversation was a<br />

slab <strong>of</strong> brown beef thrown on <strong>the</strong> table. The princess’s conversation was,<br />

in comparison, sparkling peach champagne, bubbling with erudite witticisms<br />

uttered in several languages ancient and modern.<br />

Even though <strong>the</strong>re had not been <strong>the</strong> slightest rumor <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pope’s<br />

having sex with a woman—o<strong>the</strong>r than Olimpia, <strong>of</strong> course—Innocent<br />

was undoubtedly drawn to attractive women and listened to <strong>the</strong>ir ad-<br />

[ 202 ]

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