Copia was trying to get to grips with being a Cardinal. Especially now he was head of the Ministry, though he suspected it was more his mother’s influence, than because he had an actual skill for it. Terzo’s death had been untimely, yet Sister Imperator, his mother, often acted like she had nothing to do with it.

He wandered through the Ministry halls in his red cassock, his grey and white mismatched eyes flickering around idly. Copia wanted to prove he was good enough, maybe he’d make it to be the fourth Papa Emeritus one day. He supposed he’d like that, but he would much rather hang out with his rats, or ride his tricycle about.

Cardinal Copia ran a hand through his black hair thoughtfully as he wandered; he desperately wanted to be taken seriously this time.