57. Casual Comments
Date Written: April 30, 2019
Date Posted: November 2, 2020
Summary: Veneziano and the Vatican have another conversation.
Notes: Please read Confessional (#41) for my notes concerning the relationship Veneziano has with the Vatican.
"You don't visit me anymore." The old man took a sip of lukewarm coffee and then glanced at his wayward brother. Although he wasn't quite angry yet, the old man's knuckles turned stark white in contrast with tanned skin as he clutched his mug of coffee. "Tell me, Veneziano, are you too busy with your affairs to pay me attention?"
The younger man shifted in his seat. Like his sibling, he appeared to be at ease, but there was a tension that radiated from his posture. Like the older man, he too, had a cup of coffee, but it sat untouched on the table. His hands were clasped in his lap—a submissive gesture that was at odds with the way he held his head high. Underneath the table, his foot tapped impatiently.
"Paperwork, Vaticano." Veneziano inclined his head. "I have been very busy."
The old man lay back in his chair—his hands were still white knuckled around the handle of his cup. "So busy that only Romano has time to see me?"
At that, the Venetian shrugged. "I always ask Romano to send my regards."
"How very kind of you." The Vatican just about slammed the cup onto the table before he also placed his hands on his lap. "Yet, I do believe that you and I should have a talk."
"I do believe that we're having one right now."
The Vatican's body seemed to stiffen with cold rage before allowing a deep breath to leave his lips. A brief second of contemplation and a prayer to God had him dismissing his northern brother's petulance.
For now.
"Romano and I…" The Vatican paused for a moment, trying to find the right words that would have Veneziano listening to him. "… we're worried about you."
The younger man weakly chuckled before he allowed his head to rest upon his right palm as he adjusted his posture. "You're just bullshitting yourself… You? Worried about me? Romano, yes, that's possible, but you're just full of shit."
There were many things that the Vatican may have allowed to pass, but his brother's blatant disregard for his authority and importance as a religious monument in the modern world left much to be desired. At once, the Vatican leaped up to his feet, his chair falling to the ground with a thud.
"I've let your wayward behavior go time and time again, but you must acknowledge the truth! You have lost your faith in God!"
His voice boomed within the room, a stark cry from his frail frame and elderly persona. Harsh breathing wracked his frame, as if that yell had taken all of his power to command. For a moment, both brothers stared deep into each other's eyes.
The Vatican glared down.
Veneziano merely glanced up towards his older brother with the air of a sullen child.
Slowly, Veneziano rose from his seated position and stared at the Vatican head on. Unlike the holy man, Veneziano was taller than him, a fact that had the northerner glad for it.
Such a useless thing to be proud of, Veneziano couldn't help but think.
But it was the only thing that he had right now.
"And you have lost your faith in me." Veneziano's hands clenched at the side of the table. "Why are you hounding me on how I best spend my time or how many times I must visit the church? You have immersed yourself in a tradition that was born from a poor man rebelling against the might of Rome!"
"That is beside the point, Veneziano. It is merely the principle. Have you no shame that the northern half of the cradle of Catholicism no longer holds the religion dear? Your children are godless and materialistic!"
"And what if they are? You of all people should know that religion is abstract, mortal faith is weak, and times change! Have you forgotten the old gods—"
"How dare you talk of paganism; focus on the issue."
"I am! Have you not noticed that you are hypocritical as a rich man trying to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Your churches preach about the wealth going to the poor, but they house riches only peasants dream of. During the crusades, you cared not for spreading the religion, but subjugating territory and people!"
"As if you haven't profited from them as well."
Veneziano sneered at the old man. "I did, but I don't deny it. I rose to my greatest height and fell after the Fourth." Veneziano's eyes burned into the Vatican's. "Such good and lack of regard… not only did The Most Serene Republic exemplify that, but so did the Papal States!"
"Is that it? You have broken your hand with God because of a few mistakes?"
"La Serenissima Republica fell and that is something that I cannot forgive."
Veneziano's glare could melt through steel, but the old man dared not falter. For a moment, both Nations stared at one another, their eyes giving nothing away, their postures never yielding. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity or a conversation to pass, Veneziano pushed his chair back into its proper place. The Vatican's eyes followed his brother's movements, but did not say a word.
Once the chair had finished scraping across the hardwood flooring, Veneziano took one more sip of his now lukewarm coffee and then turned to go.
"We're done here."
At that, Veneziano didn't stay for his usual round of goodbyes and tearful hugs. No, instead, there was nothing more than cold silence that followed after Veneziano's footsteps long since faded.
All the Vatican could do was slump listlessly in his chair and finger the rim his own mug of coffee.
