Unexpected children are not exactly uncommon for the Ministry. Orphans are taken in if they need a home and educated in the schoolhouse. The loose rules on sexual activity lead to one too many members of the Clergy and congregation either falling pregnant or impregnating others.

The headache of it all hasn’t been one Primo had felt in years. His papacy had left him to face a few baby-shaped crises, but nothing quite compares to his brothers being brought home. It was a mess on all levels and even as a young boy, Primo was not spared any of the mess.

Since his retirement as Papa, Primo had assumed those troubles were far behind him.

He should’ve known better, really.

The Emeritus line had never been without its dramas and well-beloved troublemakers. Primo was not perfect, but he was nothing like his brothers who seemed to attract trouble like pollen attracted bees.

If either of his brothers were going to come to the Abbey with a surprise child, Primo would’ve expected it to be Secondo. Instead it was Terzo.

One day his brother had come to him with a child in his arm. There was no fanfare, just a simple declaration that the Emeritus family had expanded by one precious number.

Terzo hasn’t told anyone about how he found the child. The most popular theory is that he slept with a woman who abandoned the child. It’s not just the Siblings who gossip, but the Clergy as well. Primo can’t even begin to count how many people, ordained or not, who’ve asked him about it.

Primo knows that it’s not the case. He may gripe and complain about his brother, but he knows him well enough to know this is something else entirely.

And now Primo is the zio to an adorable little child who can’t quite say their ‘z’s right.

If Terzo is ever too busy with his papal duties, Primo and Secondo are the default babysitters. Primo finds himself taking the task more often, considering that Secondo seems to think that Primo does nothing but sit on his ass all day.

It’s no matter.

Primo loves this child dearly. He won’t be the one complaining about spending more time with them.

Sometimes he’ll just let them tag along wherever he ends up in the Abbey, letting them do as they please. If they’d like to babble on, he’ll let them. If they’d like to play, he’ll join them in their play room. If they’d like to nap, he’ll follow their lead and catch up on sleep.

He prefers taking them to places where there’s no need for them to stifle themself. He favors places a child can exist without having to worry about fragile things and irritable people. The land around the Abbey is the perfect space for them. There’s plenty of grass for them to run in, trees for them to try and fail to climb, and plenty of wild life for them to chase. When their energy wanes and they’re less likely to wreak havoc, Primo will accompany them to the gardens.

The gardens are beautiful in the spring and Primo had to take the little imp to them. He’s sure they don’t get as much fresh air as they should with Terzo as their father, but—because he’s such a good zio—he endeavors to fix it himself.

“Amore mio, guarda,” Primo commands gently. He points out a wilting zinnia to them, smiling faintly as their gaze follows his hand. “You see how its petals have lost their color? This means the flower is dying and when a flower is dying-” Primo grabs the pruning shears and snips the flower from the stem, “-we need to cut it off the bush. With the dead flower gone, there’s space for new, healthy flowers.”

They’re in rainboots and overalls they can freely dirty, kneeling next to Primo as he attempts to teach them something outside of Terzo’s scope. Primo guides their little hand to a perfectly fine blossom, bright and beautiful. “That’s how we keep the garden beautiful. Capito?”