Chapter 23 Misty Rose (Twenty-three)

◎Choice◎

Raphael did not contact Jenny in private, which was a small kindness he showed to this little girl who might have been used by others. If those people knew that Raphael did not pay attention to Jenny and did not get any news from Jenny, the little girl would still have hope of survival. Otherwise, death would most likely be waiting for her.

Whether they thought Raphael was afraid of François' power or had other plans, Jenny would no longer be their pawn.

After his resurrection from the dead, Raphael showed such kindness to a stranger for the first time, although no one knew about this kindness and no one would ever know about it.

The order Ferrante received was to escort Jenny out of the Pope's Palace in a legitimate manner. The black-haired young guard accepted the order silently and completed it without any compromise.

At the crowded entrance of the Pope's Palace, a little girl with golden-brown curly hair was holding the hand of a young man in uniform beside her. When they were about to leave, she couldn't help but cast her gaze towards the unusually silent person beside her.

"Ferrante? Are you unhappy?"

Jenny's voice was timid. This was not what she wanted to ask, but her intuition told her that it was best not to bring up that matter now.

"No." Ferrante denied it succinctly, and walked her out without even looking at her.

Jenny lowered her head, rubbed her skirt with her hands, and followed Ferrante's steps uneasily. After a while, she asked nervously: "Is...Is there something I did wrong?

The Holy Father did not want to see me. ”

Ferrante was silent for a while: "It has nothing to do with you, I...I will try again."

There was no emotion in the boy's deep blue eyes, which were as dark as two caves in the sea. No one could see what was inside. He repeated to himself, as if trying to convince himself: "I will try again, try again."

At the same time, Raphael was also talking to Julius.

They strolled in the Grand Gallery of the Papal Palace. This magnificent corridor brings together classic works of all the masters of the Vatican over the past thousand years. Slender Roman columns support the vault, and the stained glass windows are carefully colored to form a variety of patterns. The elegant dark gold dome is decorated with a pilgrimage picture that was painted by a contemporary master artist who spent thirty years of painstaking effort. On both sides are hung art masterpieces of various sizes, including portraits of popes from past dynasties, coronation statues and various religious paintings.

This Grand Gallery is the most proud artistic masterpiece of the Holy See. Many famous masters are proud to be able to visit the Grand Gallery, but entering the Grand Gallery of the Papal Palace requires personal permission from the Pope, and currently only a few people have received this honor.

For the Pope, such a masterpiece of art was just a place for him to take a walk in his spare time. Dr. Polly set a schedule for him that was accurate to the minute. Of course, Raphael could not follow it completely - if he did, he would not be able to complete most of the work. But within his ability, he did not mind making this dedicated old man happy.

The Pope and Julius met in the Great Gallery after a half-hour stroll following the doctor's advice. Perhaps the Secretary General was waiting for an encounter here, but Raphael didn't care about that.

"What is François doing recently?" The young Pope stopped in front of a large oil painting more than one meter tall, looked up at the painting that depicts the story of a saint being born from the palm of God and walking into the world, as if asking casually.

Julius didn't expect the Pope to say this name for a moment, and after a while he answered: "He has been quite quiet these days. He hasn't made any big moves since the celebration, but he has been in contact with several cardinals."

He casually mentioned the names of several cardinals.

Raphael fell into his own thoughts again, and Julius was not curious about the reason why he asked this question. If he was curious, he would always find the reason.

"Does François often stay in the mansion?" Raphael suddenly asked again.

Julius frowned silently.

The second question is about Francois. Why does Rafa suddenly pay so much attention to him?

“Yes,” Julius said quickly, “he seems… not very fond of going out.”

When he said this, even a calm man like Julius couldn't help but feel strange about the logic behind this sentence.

No matter from which angle you look at it, François is not a low-key person. From the few times they met, it can be seen that the Duke has a flamboyant style, likes to show off, and is arrogant and self-centered. How could such a person refuse to socialize?

Julius quickly realized that there was a problem.

"What news have you heard?" Compared to François, the patriarch of Portia was more concerned about another point at the moment. How did Raphael discover the abnormality that even he didn't notice?

When the eyes of two equally sharp people met, subtle emotions appeared in eyes of similar colors.

Julius slowly turned the silver-plated ebony cane in his hand. The blurry figures of two people were reflected on the smooth light gold marble floor. He looked at the portrait of a Pope beside the corridor. The Pope, wearing a heavy and gorgeous golden-red surplice, a crown of thorns, and long brown curly hair, had a majestic face. In his hand, he held a thorny double-winged scepter that symbolized divine power and looked at the people outside the painting expressionlessly.

He is like a symbol of theocracy, completely dissolving his individuality as a human being. This solemn portrait is hung on the magnificent wall of the Grand Gallery, watching in eternal silence as countless successors come here, fight, wander, test, die, and then become part of the Grand Gallery.

Raphael's fate has also been determined in the Grand Gallery. From the moment he wore the crown of thorns of St. Leah, a place has been reserved for him in the Grand Gallery. The master artist has been invited to start painting the latest coronation portrait, and if he wishes, he can also choose other works to put up.

However, Raphael was not interested in what kind of person he would be put on the wall at the moment, so he casually handed the matter over to the Papal Palace to arrange. This matter was finally taken over by Julius - of course, Raphael didn't know this yet.

“I’ll find someone to investigate. Give me three days… no, two days,” Julius said.

"...No, thanks." Raphael rejected Julius' suggestion. A vague idea suddenly came to his mind. This idea made him hesitate, but he quickly hardened his heart and threw that weak and useless tenderness aside.

I've already given him a chance to leave, Raphael thought, I've given him a chance.

As if to convince himself, he repeated this sentence twice in his mind.

So Ferrante soon received a new mission: to sneak into François's mansion in disguise and find out what was going on inside.

In fact, it would be easier to investigate this matter with the help of Julius. Portia's influence is pervasive in Florence, so it would be almost easy to investigate this matter.

But after careful consideration, Raphael rejected this easy path. He needed to train his own people, and it was not a good idea to tie himself too closely to Julius. More importantly... he didn't know whether there was any trace of Portia in this matter.

Portia is a huge family, and the bloodline of this ancient family is spread all over the Syracuse Peninsula. As the head of the family, Julius cannot control the behavior of all members, especially since there are people in the Portia family who are as powerful as Julius and are eyeing the uncrowned throne of Portia.

Raphael admitted that for some reasons, he paid special attention to Ferrante - or rather, he preferred Ferrante a little. Apart from this external factor, this boy, who was four years younger than him, was smart, flexible, intelligent, healthy, and good at judging the situation. More importantly, he had the ambition that could not be erased from a child who crawled out of the slums.

Raphael was not afraid of other people's ambitions. Ambition is such a good thing. It can enable people to unleash their terrifying potential, accomplish things that surpass everything, and grind dull and rough stones into sharp blades.

Not to mention that Ferrante was originally an unformed gem. Raphael hoped to polish him into the sharpest sword in his hand. In return, he would give Ferrante everything he wanted, and these were just necessary training before the weapon was formed.

If he breaks in the process...

Alas, if you want to climb up, you always have to pay a price. There is no such thing as a gamble that will never fail in this world. Ferrante has no chips in the huge and luxurious gambling field in Florence. The only thing he can bet on the gambling table is his loyalty and life. He must be prepared to have everything taken away.

Raphael would not cry for his death, he never even cried for his own death.

It was not known whether Ferrante understood his deep meaning or not, but the black-haired boy obediently accepted this dangerous task. Fortunately, although most people in the Papal Palace knew him these days, he had never met François. Eliminating this hidden danger, the middleman who bought people for François would not know the guards accompanying the Pope.

Ferrante entered François's mansion faster than expected.

Although he looks shy and handsome, the boy who grew up in the Rose House in the lower town essentially knows these dirty and filthy things better than anyone else. He put on an innocent and desperate expression, playing the role of a boy who was penniless and heavily in debt and had to sell himself, and successfully sold himself to François's mansion for six gold florins.

...His prices are getting higher and higher.

Ferrante thought so without thinking when he got the six gold coins.

Then he walked into the garden that was privately praised by those who knew it as the earthly Eden.

Raphael received the letter from Ferrante the next night. This young man, who was well versed in the rules of the society, used the beggar's hands to pass the letter through layers of channels and managed to secretly deliver the letter to the Pope's Palace.

“Your Majesty, good night. It should be night when you receive this letter. I have entered here according to your order. I really don’t want to desecrate your eyes and ears with such filthy things. I can only say that what the Duke did here is completely contrary to the will of God and abandons the virtues of loyalty, chastity, kindness and integrity.

"The fidelity of marriage and love is trampled upon, and they also violate God's teachings on rejecting same-sex love - of course, their reason is that there is no love in it, but only the release of primitive desires... I'm sorry that these dirty contents may make you feel disgusted, and I hope it doesn't disturb your precious sleep.

"...I have seen more evil deeds that have taken innocent lives here. Will you save these poor people? They are trapped in the swamp of sin, but they still yearn for salvation.

"Yours faithfully, Ferrante."

The text was written on a thin piece of inferior papyrus, carefully folded several times, and sewn between two pieces of cowhide before being delivered to him. The handwriting was crooked and there were a few spelling errors, but it did not hinder reading.

Based on these contents alone, Raphael had a rough guess about what François was doing. Violent rage swept through his mind, and the anger made him unable to control his strength for a moment, and he almost crushed the papyrus.

But he quickly came to his senses and put the paper down.

Now is not the time. Even if François did something excessive, he could not take action against the Duke of Calais.

Otherwise he will face the revenge of an empire.

This was not about whether Duke François himself was popular, but an act of provocation to the majesty of the empire.

After thinking about it, this matter can only be regarded as a personal moral issue of François himself.

In this era when the poor have no human rights, there is a great nobleman who is willing to pay money to equally purchase people who cannot survive. What a charitable act this is. Even if he does not treat them as servants but uses them for his personal enjoyment, it is not a big problem in the eyes of many people.

—Aren’t the prostitutes in the rose house and the glass workshop doing the same thing? One party pays money, the other party pays with his body, what a fair deal!

Even if he died, it could only be said to be a small error in the transaction process.

At most... François is just playing bigger.

But that's not right.

Raphael crossed his hands, pressed his fingers lightly on his bony joints, and thought silently.

They are still children of the right age and should have the opportunity to live an upright life, instead of learning to take shortcuts early before the frivolous temptation of fate.

What's more, they are the people of Florence, the children under his wings who pray for his protection every day.

Is he going to do it? What should he do?

Raphael was in a dilemma.

On one side is the Duke of Calais, and on the other side is the common people at the bottom of Florence. These are not weights of equal weight on the scale at all, and he must choose one.

And perhaps, there are other people watching beside this scale, waiting for him to make a decision, and then drag him, or Florence along with him, into the abyss.

He believed this without a doubt. There were countless people coveting the position of Pope. Every cardinal had a dream of wearing a golden chasuble. As long as he showed the slightest flaw, they would not hesitate to pay all their wealth to expel him from the position of Pope. Even Julius could not be trusted, and Florence...

He loves this holy and magnificent city of cities, and this filthy city of doomsday. Will they love it like this? They only loved the upper town with its elegant clothes and the grand and solemn Papal Palace and the Great Gallery. They wanted to cut off the lower town like a cancer - if they could do it, Raphael would do it.

I believe they will do so without hesitation.

Raphael turned the small and exquisite pendulum clock on the table and listened to the pleasant sound of the gear bearings meshing. His face reflected on the brass surface was pale and stiff, and there was no emotion in his pair of lavender eyes.

"Find a time to leave there and don't do anything unnecessary."

Finally, the young Pope wrote this line on the paper.

The author has something to say:

There is a treasure in the comments section who described Ferrante in the previous chapter as particularly accurate.

Ferrante: The house collapsed.

Hahahahahahaha this is too awesome, it's just a house collapse, hahaha, why does he suddenly become pitiful.