Chapter 4: Misty Rose (IV)
◎Julius Portia◎
After receiving the report from the gatekeeper, the eldest son of Cardinal Tandol hurried out from the hall to greet the Pope. He was a young man a few years older than Raphael. He was the next Count of Clement after Tandol. He had long brown curly hair like his father and a longer neck than most people, so he was nicknamed "Sir Goose" by the gossipers.
"Holy Father..."
Sir Goose... No, little Dondol lowered his head and saluted Raphael, taking this opportunity to hide the surprise and panic on his face.
Why did Sistine suddenly come here? On the day of his coronation... He should have been enjoying the admiration of the crowd at the banquet instead of coming quietly to the Palazzo Riccardi to visit an old man who was about to die, especially tonight...
Little Dondol used his barren brain, supported by his thin neck, to search for the shriveled brain matter. Thinking of the group of people who were now in the reception room and a certain saying that was widely circulated among the nobles of Florence, he felt a buzzing pain in his head.
"Holy Father, thank you for your presence--" He hadn't finished his social speech when the Pope's clear lavender eyes turned around and fell on him with an emotionless look. For a moment, little Dondol felt as cold as if he was being stared at by a snake.
Fortunately, this sight only lasted for a brief moment. When little Dondol looked over, the young Pope's expression was still calm and gentle.
"I heard that Cardinal Dondol was seriously ill, so I came to visit him. He once taught me at the Florence Seminary. I regret that I cannot share the glory with him today." Raphael spoke in a calm tone, but his steps were firm as he stepped over little Dondol, leaving him no chance to stop him.
"Wait a minute - Holy Father!" Seeing the Pope sweep past him like a gust of wind, Dondoler was startled. "Please allow me to lead the way. Father's bedroom is in -"
Poor little Sir Dondol was once again unable to finish his speech. ⊙
This time he was interrupted by a deliberately raised laugh: "Oh, look who it is! Our great Holy Father His Holiness Sistine I!"
Raphael suddenly stopped.
To be fair, the sound was not unpleasant, and could even be said to be pleasant, but it had appeared in Raphael's dreams countless times when he was young, like a shadowy evil spirit, whispering maliciously and full of hatred.
The Pope raised his face expressionlessly. At the top of the spiral staircase stood a handsome young man. He was tall and slender, with blond hair shawl, a gorgeous taffeta shirt and a dark blue long coat that reached his calves, and lace cuffs decorated with pearls. He was meticulous in every detail and stood there with an air of dignity, looking like a portrait of an aristocrat that would soon be hung in the family gallery.
"Rederic Claudius Portia..." Raphael read out the other party's full name word by word, and added with an unclear emotion, "——His Royal Highness the Duke of Luxembourg."
Redrick held onto the red pine handrail and walked down the stairs slowly, his heels tapping out a steady rhythm on the floor. "Yes, it's me, His Majesty Sistine I."
He stopped and deliberately performed an awkward greeting towards Raphael, with undisguised contempt in his tone.
Raphael looked at him expressionlessly, his hands hidden under the large chasuble, gently rubbing them against each other.
He was not angry, and his whole body was as calm as a deep lake.
"I think the Riccardi Palace should be more rigorous in choosing who to entertain. Bad guests will ruin the reputation of Cardinal Dondol and bring the entire Dondol to hell. If I were you, my dear brother Dondol, I would stop the loss in time..." Seeing that Raphael didn't react, Redrick shifted his target to Dondol and spoke incessantly about his own opinions.
Of course he knew that it was impossible for young Don Doller to drive the Pope out of the Riccardi Palace, and he also knew that what he was saying now would be equivalent to dragging the innocent young Don Doller into the conflict between him and Raphael... But so what, he didn't care.
Children who are hot-tempered, straightforward, and grow up in the spotlight seem to all have this kind of self-centered nature, and Redrick is the worst among them.
He does have the capital to do so.
As the direct descendant of the Portia family, the eldest son of the previous pope through legitimate marriage, his mother's line is one of the few traceable descendants of the Roman emperor who has been passed down to this day, and he is related to the royal families of two countries. He has been the uncrowned prince of Florence since childhood, so it is not surprising that he has such arrogance and arrogance.
"Redrick!" When little Don Doller was thinking about whether to pretend to faint in such a Shura scene, accompanied by a sound of footsteps, someone finally came out to save him.
Oh my God, I swear I will never say anything bad about Julius again, he is an angel!
Little Tang Doler secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Redrick was reluctant, but he finally stopped talking. Raphael's hands hidden in his sleeves suddenly clenched.
When the footsteps sounded, he had already recognized the identity of the person coming. He was so familiar with this person. He had been taught by him since he was eleven years old and regarded him as his mentor. He respected him like his father and trusted him like himself. Even if he closed his eyes, he could restore the other person's appearance without any error, and guess what the other person would say, his habitual movements and tone of voice.
Calm, elegant, reserved, distant——
"A model of nobility".
The man walking down the second floor corridor was about thirty years old, with long iron-gray hair tied up neatly behind his head.
A green headband fell along with his hair, his eyes were deep purple, his lips were a strange dark red, as if they carried cold rusty blood, his silver-rimmed glasses suppressed the dangerous sharpness in his eyes, softening his sharp temperament and hiding it behind his elegant and good manners.
His hands were not covered with luxurious jewelry like other noble men. He only wore a low-key dark gold ring on his thin and slender fingers, and an ebony and silver-plated cane was pressed on his palm.
He looks low-key and gentle, but no one can underestimate this seemingly harmless man. He holds the power of the most powerful Portia family on the Syracuse Peninsula in his hands. He always sits in the chief seat in the thirteen-member council of the Free City-State Alliance centered on Florence.
Sharing the same name as the glorious tyrant who founded the ancient Roman Empire, Julius Portia hides a cold soul beneath his handsome and amiable appearance.
"Redrick, you can't be rude to Count Clement, and... you should go back and learn some etiquette again. If you continue to act like this, I will consider letting you go back to Lucern." Julius' tone was very calm, but Redrick closed his mouth tightly in an instant. He seemed to have an inexplicable fear of Julius.
"Also, you should sincerely congratulate your brother and address him as 'Holy Father'."
Upon hearing this, Redrick rolled his eyes viciously and mouthed something to Raphael silently.
——bastard.
Julius came down the last two steps and pressed his cane lightly on the ground, making a rather oppressive "clack".
Raphael stood face to face with him, two steps apart. The older man lowered his head slightly, examining his young student. Little Dondol standing behind them suddenly had a strange feeling. There was a strange similarity between these two men. This similarity was vague and elusive. When the two were infinitely close, it was magnified and became so conspicuous that it could not be ignored.
They are so similar, I can't tell where they are similar, maybe it's the pair of purple eyes, maybe it's the curve of the profile, maybe it's the highly synchronized expressions, maybe it's the standing posture, maybe it's -
In short, for a moment, young Dondoler felt as if there were two Julius standing in front of him.
This hallucination gave him goosebumps all over his body and he tried hard to shake off this terrible thought from his mind.
Two Julius Portias? !
What a new legend of customs this is!
But to be honest, apart from the same eye color and facial features, Julius seems to be more similar to Raphael than to Redrick, who is related by blood.
Could that rumor be true? The new Pope also has the blood of the Portia family?
Little Dondol was lost in thought. Julius smiled at Raphael and said, "Congratulations."
His free hand lifted Raphael's right hand and gently kissed the other's badge ring: "Holy Father."
Raphael lowered his eyes and looked at the iron-gray head in front of him. Suddenly, he remembered something completely unrelated.
In his previous life, Julius seemed to have never bowed his head before him, nor had he ever sworn allegiance to him.
He always respected his mentor and understood the pride in the head of the Portia family. In addition, he did not think these etiquettes were that important, so he specially allowed Julius not to salute him. In the process, he also forgot that Julius had never kissed the corner of his robe in the first place.
This memory came at an inopportune time, causing him to miss the moment when he subconsciously wanted to exempt Julius from the ceremony. The head of Portia kissed his ring and raised his head, his expression as gentle as ever: "Rafa, why are you here all of a sudden? I remember that the ball at the Pope's Palace was going to last all night. Didn't they realize that they lost the protagonist?"
Julius has always been very affectionate towards Raphael. This kind of intimacy is similar to the care that a male elder of similar age gives to a younger person, and it is something that the young and lonely Raphael can never resist.
"I heard that Cardinal Dondol is not feeling well, so I came to visit him. Where is Monsieur?"
Raphael's counter-question was too calm.
Julius shouldn't have been here. Although he didn't hold a clergy position, as one of the pillar families of Florence, he should have been one of the stars of the ball.
"Like you, I came to visit Cardinal Dondol. You know, he and my cousin Saint Vitalian III were close friends during their lifetime. It is only natural that I came to listen to whether he has any unfinished business."
He seemed to put emphasis on one of the names, but also seemed not to. Raphael looked into his eyes, and the dark purple pupils behind the lenses were deep and gloomy.
"Unfinished regrets..." Raphael repeated these words, glancing at the little Dondol behind him, with a strange irony in his tone, "Take care of his widow and children?"
Julius turned the ebony cane in his hand half a circle and replied calmly: "If necessary."
Raphael chuckled softly and glanced meaningfully at Redrick, who was standing still on the steps, not daring to move. The Duke of Luxembourg, who had just been jumping up and down in high spirits, now looked like a little rooster caught in the rain.
"You really enjoy doing this kind of good thing as always." Raphael said coldly.
Julius followed his gaze and replied good-naturedly: "And I always do a good job, don't I, Holy Father?"
This man, who was dressed so strictly and thickly that he looked ascetic, pronounced the sacred word "Holy Father" without any pious meaning, so that the title suddenly became a little strange.
This time the young Pope did not give him any response. He walked past him and went straight to the second floor, not forgetting to remind the living map Little Dondol to follow him.
After their figures disappeared around the corner of the corridor, Redrick finally came down the stairs and walked to Julius. According to blood relationship, Julius was his father's cousin, which meant he was his uncle, but Redrick would never use that intimate name.
"Why is he here?!"
This question seems to have come up a lot this evening.
Julius stared at him coldly for a while, until Redrick's eyes darted around guiltily, then he let him go temporarily: "Raphael is your brother, I don't want to see you offend him again in the future, otherwise I will consider giving the title of Duke of Lusen to the next person. You have more than one brother."
Redrick's handsome face twisted instantly, and he growled, "Julius - you can't do this! He's just a bastard! My father never even acknowledged his existence!"
“It’s not important,” Julius said calmly, “You—”
"Yes, that's not important. What's important is that he's the Pope now, isn't he? The noble Sistine I! Ha! He's not even a 'Portia'! Julius, do you think I don't know what you're thinking? There are several bishops in the Portia family, but you took great pains to bring this bastard back from the countryside and put him on the throne of Saint Leah - your dirty and obscene mind, do you think I can't see it?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the world was spinning in front of his eyes and a burning pain exploded from his jaw. Redrick took three or four steps back before he stood shakily, and a salty and fishy smell spread from his mouth.
The Duke, who had never been beaten like this before, was stunned and stood there with his chin in his hands.
Julius' eyes flashed with annoyance. He shook his right hand, which was numb from overexertion, and said in a calm and low voice, "Put away your filthy thoughts. I hope you'll look at where you are before you speak next time. If I hear this rumor again, I'll cut off your tongue and send it to your mother."
Redrick shuddered.
He realized that Julius was really capable of such a thing.
Not daring to say another word, Redrick glared at the floor angrily, lowered his head and covered his wound, and hurriedly left the Riccardi Palace. Julius stood in the hall and pondered for a while, then turned and left.
Raphael's arrival tonight was completely unexpected to him. It seemed that something happened that he didn't understand, which made him feel unusually uneasy.
"Go to the Papal Palace." The attendant guarding the door put a thin cloak on him. Julius got on the carriage and instructed the coachman. ↘
The author has something to say:
It’s the end of the month, please give me some nutrient solution! The nutrient solution will expire tomorrow if not used. If there is any left, feel free to give it to me. Fat pigeons have big bellies! I can drink it!
The little uncle calls his nephew "Holy Father", and there is a subtle feeling brought about by the age difference and the inverted status difference... I really like this kind of dislocation.
The surname Portia comes from the city-state of Thebes, which is as famous as Athens and Sparta. Thebes is located in Portia, so I used it as a name. Hahaha, it sounds very similar to the famous Borgia family, but my inspiration for designing this character is the Medici family... But it is very likely that there will be a mysterious intersection later in the writing...
Once again, I would like to remind you that readers with strong religious beliefs are not recommended to read this article. There will be many religious changes in the article, and the author himself has not done in-depth research in this area. If you feel offended, I apologize in advance, but I do not reject or belittle any religion in reality. All the plots are fictional and re-creations. The religious characters, stories and scriptures are all made up by individuals and have nothing to do with reality. If you cannot accept it, please escape quickly. It is really boring to report it after only writing three chapters. Thank you.
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