“She doesn’t suit you? The arrogance. The insolence. The self-serving hubris! Bishop, cardinal, or King of fucking Araby, you don’t get to choose a Pope.” He stabbed at the sky with a finger. “That choice is for God!” “Think Brother Diaz found his balls,” murmured Vigga. “The thing about God, my son,” sneered Bishop Apollonia, “is that he often needs a nudge in the right direction.
