Conclave
Conclave Vincent BenÃtez.
—Who the hell voted for BenÃtez? —asks Tremblay with a tight smile.
Lomeli remains silent. Because he wants to know, too.
That night, in his room, Lomeli reviews the numbers. Something doesn’t add up. The vote count is accurate, but… why would anyone vote for BenÃtez?
He opens the folder containing the cardinals’ records. BenÃtez is a barely known name. An invisible candidate.
He closes his eyes. Tomorrow brings another round of voting. But something inside him whispers that the real danger lies not in the favorites—but in the one no one is watching.
The second vote begins early in the Sistine Chapel.
The air is thick with tension. The cardinals, clad in scarlet red, resemble chess pieces in a game none can fully control.
Lomeli watches their faces as they move to deposit their votes into the urn. Some act with devotion, others with the burden of political calculation.
When the vote concludes, the count reveals the inevitable: the conclave remains deadlocked.
