"Holy See, the time has come." The attending nun said in a low voice. Sylvia weakly roused herself, propping up her forehead, the moment of dazedness in her eyes vanishing instantly.
"I know, you may go now." She waved her hand.
"Yes."
After the nun left, Sylvia pressed her hand to her forehead, letting out an involuntary sigh.
It's starting again...
As the Pope, she was seen by outsiders as a figure of iron will and immense power. They called her a divine servant, but such an impression was non-existent in the eyes of those around her.
And now, in this solitude, she revealed a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that was hard to detect. If the nun had seen it just now, she would have probably thought she was mistaken.
Sylvia got up, walked to a nearby table, and picked up a photo album that was lying face down.
She always handled her own belongings; no nun dared to clean her room without permission. So, of course, no one knew what kind of photos were in the album.
