Chapter 56: Golden Ouroboros (VI)
Horton
The banquet in the Mirror Palace ended at around three in the morning. After burning all night, only a pool of wax remained. The servants turned the heavy iron capstan, lowered the huge chandelier from the ceiling, peeled off the solidified wax, and replaced it with new candles.
The servants on the first floor worked diligently while the kitchen began to prepare meals for the new day, while the second floor where the masters rested was silent.
Raphael had a terrible headache. The bumpy ride along the way was nothing serious, but once he lay down on the bed, he began to feel uncomfortable all over. His head was buzzing. He was obviously very sleepy but could not fall asleep. He tossed and turned until the sun rose, then he simply got up and put on his clothes.
The climate of Rome is warmer and more humid than that of Florence. The monsoon brings it abundant rainfall every year, and the vast mountains block the cold current from the south. This country was born on fertile plains. Its excellent geographical location close to the ocean has given it a large number of people who are good at swimming. The Roman navy is the strongest in the world, and even Calais has to agree with this.
Raphael lived in the best suite in the Palace of Mirrors. The fireplace made the whole room dry and warm. He walked barefoot on the carpet, and his ankles were almost sinking into the soft and lush hair.
Unlike the large and magnificent murals that can be seen everywhere in Florence, Roman prefers delicate and elegant small works, which are framed in oval or square gold frames and hung on the wall, with the background being deep red or dark green wallpaper and curtains.
In order to welcome the Pope, some inappropriate romantic works in the Palace of Mirrors were removed and replaced by religious artworks. Raphael shifted his gaze from an oil painting and sat in an armchair in front of the fireplace, with his feet curled up on the chair. He was like a cat curled up in the chair, and he relaxed his mind lightly in this comfortable sleepiness.
Ferrante pushed the door open quietly and found, as expected, that there was no one on the bed. The next second he successfully found his Holy Father in front of the fireplace.
Just like a cat, he thought disrespectfully, always curling up in a warm place, curling himself up into a ball and dozing off comfortably.
But this also made him very confused, although he always saw the Holy Father dozing off in front of the fireplace...that is to say, why didn't he sleep in bed? He seemed to have never seen the Holy Father sleeping in bed. He was either working until late at night, or getting up early in the morning, or like now, sitting lazily in front of the fireplace after getting up to spend his leisure time.
This sudden flash of doubt made Ferrante more concerned than ever about the Holy Father's sleeping habits.
"Holy Father," the young man in a black monk's robe walked up to Raphael and made a little noise. When the other party opened his eyes and looked at him, he bowed his head respectfully, "Did you not sleep well last night? It's only six o'clock now, and it's not time for morning prayers yet."
"Hmm..." The Pope grumbled in a low, dissatisfied voice. He moved his body and changed to a more comfortable position. He pulled his wandering soul back and roughly stuffed it into his body. "What is it?"
His tone still sounded a little sleepy, but judging from his eyes which were slowly becoming clearer, it only took him a few seconds to become completely awake.
Ferrante stepped forward, stretched out his hands and cupped the Pope's temples, and with his slender and powerful hands he lightly and skillfully pressed the acupoints - this was what Dr. Polli had taught him before they set out, saying that it would help relax the mind. Dr. Polli was also going to follow the team to Roman, but was firmly rejected by the Pope on the grounds that the old man should not experience such bumps again. Apparently, being described as an "old man" made Dr. Polli very angry, and he did not go to see the Pope again until the team left Florence.
Dr. Polly's medical skills were not in vain. Ferrante pressed twice before a hazy mist filled his lavender eyes again. The sleepiness that was about to fade away gently embraced the tired monarch again. Of course, one of the important reasons was that Raphael didn't want to wake up so badly in the first place.
He remained in a lazy and floating state, listening to Ferrante's low voice reporting on what had happened along the way, including several assassinations that had been intercepted - this was inevitable, the hired assassins were quite skilled in eliminating anything that could prove their identity, but Ferrante was also an expert in this, he caught a few people who didn't have time to escape, locked them up in the carriage and interrogated them alone for a few days, and then those people obediently told him all the information.
The composition of the assassins was very complex. Most of them were hired by the lords of the Papal States. Those lords who died at the hands of Raphael still had some loyal supporters. After Leshert swept through the entire Papal States, these stray dogs were wandering around, thinking every day about how to take revenge on Raphael. When they finally heard that the Pope was going on a trip, they quickly paid to hire assassins to take revenge.
This is nothing to be surprised about.
After hearing this, Raphael didn't even feel a little surprised. He just felt a little annoyed and a little sleepy, thinking "as expected". He closed his eyes, raised his chin, slightly changed his angle, and motioned Ferrante to continue.
The head of the Arbitration Bureau, who had been reduced to a massage tool for the Pope, seemed very satisfied with his current job. He obediently began to massage the acupoints behind Raphael's head: "...There are a few more, assassins from Calais, who said they were ordered by Duke François - this group of hyenas who have always had no bottom line actually still have some professional ethics."
Raphael also laughed. This sounded like a lie. Not to mention that François would not use such a stupid method to assassinate him, even if he really wanted to do so, he would never look for these mediocre assassins - this kind of thing would completely arouse anger once it was discovered. If he did it, he would have to ensure that there would be no future troubles. How could he have the chance of being caught alive?
"So who is it?" Raphael showed some interest. "The Duvisi Federation? Ever since Lesherte swept the Papal States, they have been worried. As a loose federation adjacent to the Papal States and with relatively little strength, they are indeed worried about the military actions of the Papal States, but they should not be so sensitive..."
"It shouldn't be Calais. They can still find a good enough assassin."
"Burgundy? That shouldn't be the case. The Duke of Burgundy has always only cared about his art and wine. To be honest, it wouldn't be surprising if he drowned in wine one day... Assyria? No, that wouldn't be it. That would be..."
The Pope's closed eyelashes fluttered, revealing a line of lavender pupils, like a gem that suddenly emitted a faint glow: "Roman?"
The beautiful purple light gradually became clearer, and with absolute confidence in his own judgment, "It's Roman."
Ferrante smoothed the Pope's long hair. The soft golden hair fell between his fingers, feeling cool. "Yes, they finally admitted that the person who hired them had a Rican accent. Although the person had changed his clothes, they still traced his identity. He was a distant relative of the Duke of Horton who lived in Calais. The blood relationship was very weak, but it was obvious that they had not completely severed the connection."
"Ah, even if it is cut off, we can still pick it up when needed." Raphael commented casually, and then he remembered who Duke Horton was.
"...Actually, I can understand his approach, but if you think about it carefully...there are indeed more idiots in the world." The Pope said sarcastically.
Because the Pope was going to come to Bielico to support Princess Sancha's amendment to the inheritance law, the desperate couple directly hired an assassin to assassinate the Pope. This approach is not unreasonable, but it is full of incredible absurdity.
No wonder despite having such a favorable identity, he has not been able to take back Roman's crown from Queen Amenra. It shows that a person's IQ is still very important.
While Raphael was listening to Ferrante's report, the owner of the mansion, located in the city of Belico, more than a mile away from the Mirror Palace, was also meeting guests.
Compared to the leisure and laziness of the current owner of the Mirror Palace, Duke Horton's current expression is by no means good-looking. Although he is in his own mansion, sitting in his most familiar study, he does not feel safe at all. All the muscles in his body are tense, his hair stands on end, and his eyes tremble slightly uncontrollably. ◢
In front of him sat a man covered in a black cloak. The huge cloak covered his entire body, making it difficult to determine his face or even his gender. It was not until he spoke that Holden was sure that this was a man - a slightly short man.
"This was not included in our previous agreement." Duke Horton said coldly.
The man sneered. "Is this a big deal? And isn't this exactly what you think? No, it should be said that compared to your ability to act, the conditions I proposed are already outdated."
Duke Holden's pupils suddenly shrank: "You——!"
"Are you curious about how I know this?" The man in the black cloak chuckled, like an oversized gray magpie, facing the vigilance and murderous intent of Duke Horton with awe. "You really need to improve your level of doing bad things. Those assassins who are paid to do things are not as tight-lipped as you think. They even communicate their missions with each other in the tavern... Well, I have answered your question. Now it's your turn - agree or refuse."
Duke Horton's eyes moved unconsciously in his sockets. He was thinking nervously, and at the same time he was madly cursing those untouchables who had messed up the matter with money. It would have been fine if they died, but they actually let people trace him? !
But, but doing bad things secretly is one thing, and being discovered and forced to join in doing bad things is another thing. Of course, it doesn't mean that Duke Horton is such a noble person with bottom line. A truly noble person... or even a person with a little bottom line would not casually do something like hiring someone to kill someone. He is just simply not used to being threatened, and he resists the person in front of him out of animal instinct.
“Your Excellency, do you think that His Majesty knows nothing about what I can find out?” Seeing that Horton was still hesitant, the man pushed him again.
"You are already on the opposite side, and you have done such a thing... Are you actually thinking of asking the Holy Father for forgiveness now? Then perhaps you should donate enough redemption money to Florence. Judging from the current situation, the latest price is a large enough territory, a title of nobility, and family wealth. The above data is verified by twelve people including Lawn Russo, Materazzi Dune, Lucreza Bianchi, and Casapa Montage."
The man told a not-so-funny, hellish joke, but he got the laugh point from it in a way that only he could understand. He slapped his thigh and laughed in self-satisfaction, and the content of his words successfully made Duke Horton's face turn livid.
"I am the Duke of Roman... No matter how long his arms are, they cannot reach from the Papal States to Belize." The Duke squeezed out these words from between his teeth.
"Oh, really?" There was still an unfinished smile in the man's voice. "Then, when he supports Princess Sangxia to take the throne, do you think that this princess who was personally educated by the queen will make some concessions to show goodwill to Your Majesty? For example, turning a blind eye to the occasional murder or two in Bieliko..."
Damn, that's so possible!
Duke Horton put himself in Sang Xia's shoes and imagined that if he were in Sang Xia's position, he would definitely eliminate all enemies at the first moment, not to mention doing a favor.
"...What do you want me to do?" Duke Horton finally opened his mouth with difficulty, but after saying this, the rest of his words were much smoother, "It's not that easy to kill him, or I can provide help in other places, and the rest -
—”
“No, no, no, please don’t think about such a long time ago. As a qualified ally, our first step is to assist you in winning this battle - a Roman crown. We hope you can see our sincerity. Dedicated to…” The man stood up and bowed to Duke Horton. His movements were exaggerated and somewhat funny, like a circus clown.
All the nerves of Duke Horton were tense because of these words. His face was twisted with excitement, enthusiasm, nervousness, fear and other emotions. The man finally uttered the closing words slowly: "... His Majesty the great Horton I."
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