Chapter 79: Golden Ouroboros (Twenty-Seven)
◎Mother◎
Yulia knelt in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary inlaid with gold, silver and jewels, with his forehead pressed against the carpet, muttering words that only he could understand. There were two not-so-obvious dark circles on his well-maintained face, and red bloodshot under his eyes due to lack of sleep.
This was a rare scene for the viscount who knew very well what he relied on to make a living. Ever since he had hit a snag in the Papal States, the emperor had not come to see Julia. Such a thing had never happened before. The emperor always wanted to stick to the viscount and describe every inch of his skin with an obsessed look.
This sudden indifference made the Viscount feel extremely frightened. He began to lock himself in the prayer room, praying to the statue of the Virgin Mary for more than ten hours every day. He did not eat or drink during this period, and made himself extremely haggard.
The maids saw his madness and panic, but no one was willing to comfort him.
Although the Viscount had the status of "Empress of the Empire" which they privately joked about, and always gave those noble ladies a bad look on many occasions, and no matter how absurd and rude his behavior was, His Majesty always tolerated him with a smile, but to these maids who came from aristocratic families and entered the palace for gilding, Julia was the kind of person they despised the most.
He was born in a humble family, but climbed into the emperor's bed with the help of his good looks. He was uneducated and behaved in a vulgar and obscene manner... He even had unspeakable thoughts about some beautiful maids!
Girls are always particularly sensitive to such looks. In fact, Julia is not a born homosexual. He has the frivolous and short-sightedness of a petty bourgeois in his character, but at least he knows how to judge the situation. His fear of the emperor made him restrain those inappropriate sexual desires, and the sense of crisis that the power was about to leave him made him eager to capture the man's heart.
After a long prayer, Yulia opened his eyes. There were two faint ghost lights in his eyes, burning with strange and fanatical emotions. Against his overly pale face, he looked like a beautiful enchantress in hell luring people to death.
"Your Excellency," someone knocked gently on the door, "Your Majesty invites you to come in."
Oh my god, what a beautiful sound! More moving than the angels’ trumpets and the gospel of the Holy Lord!
Yulia jumped up from the ground with agility that surpassed that of a cheetah - after kneeling for several hours, it was incredible that he could perform this move - "Yes, please tell His Majesty that I will be there soon - no, I will come right away!" He answered loudly, turned half a circle in the empty prayer room, then opened the door and rushed to his locker room.
He hastily combed his long hair with his hands, hastily changed into a white satin robe, and sprayed some perfume on his body. His dress was extremely simple and elegant, and with that face, he looked like an angel walking down from a mural. But when he looked at himself in the mirror, he still put on a necklace that the emperor had given him not long ago. The necklace originally belonged to a queen of Roman. It was inlaid with thumb-sized green jade and various gems of the same color, and embellished and connected with pure white diamonds. It was so luxurious that people dared not look directly at it.
The young viscount walked quickly along the corridor leading to the emperor's bedroom, his face full of joy. The absent-minded melancholy, anxiety and uneasiness were swept away from his face, replaced by a blush of pride.
"Your Majesty!" Julia walked lightly into the emperor's luxurious bedroom, pushing aside a maid who accidentally blocked his way. He looked at her with disgust, then put on a smile, "My dear Francois, I heard that you wanted to see me."
In the Empire of Calais, he was the only one who could address the emperor's name so intimately and frankly.
This unique treatment is also the reason why Yulia can't help himself.
"Yes, my dear angel." The emperor, who was sitting by the window, saw his rude act of pushing the maid away, but turned a blind eye to it and stretched out his hand to him, "Please come to me, my love, I haven't seen you these days, and my heart is broken."
The little emperor was lazily leaning against the window, with only the bottom two buttons of his shirt buttoned, revealing a large area of his bare chest. The extravagant and gorgeous lace covered the skin of his shoulders and neck, and blended with his fluffy long wooly hair.
Yulia walked over obediently, and pressed against the emperor's chest like a well-behaved rabbit, listening to the strong heartbeat inside.
"What is this?" François picked up the necklace on Yulia's neck with one finger and looked at it for two seconds with a frown.
He had completely forgotten the precious gift he had given.
"This is what you gave me last month..." The Viscount didn't finish his words. The emperor casually let go of his hand, letting the heavy object fall back on Yulia's collarbone.
"It doesn't suit you. If you like jewelry, I can give you something else. I remember there are some honey cat's eyes in the warehouse. They would look great inlaid with the rose on the holy emblem."
Yulia did not speak, his smile was a little stiff. He wanted to say that he did not like anything related to religion, nor did he like thorns and roses, but he did not dare - during their long time together, he had vaguely discovered something, such as the emperor hoped that he would like religion, and it would be best if he was pious and knowledgeable. Perhaps the reason he was able to meet the emperor this time was because his constant prayers day and night in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary touched this sick man.
"No jewel is more precious than your love for me," said Julia. "I only ask you not to keep me from seeing you for so long."
Francois looked at him, and a trace of annoyance flashed in his amber eyes for a moment, but he still said with his last bit of patience: "Don't pray, my dear, you are the most supreme person in this world, and no one in this world is worthy of you bowing your head for."
"As for me," the emperor paused, and slowly revealed a strange smile, which flashed with unknown expectations and malice, as if he saw something extremely far away through Yulia, "I am about to usher in the greatest victory of my life. I can keep you by my side forever - just like the Lord's favor to His believers."
Yamenla pulled the reins on the horse and looked back despite the pain in her arm. Ashur was sent by her to pick up another team, but she felt that everything that was happening now was strange.
It went so smoothly.
They withdrew from St. Sandin Manor and headed for the next town which would become their stronghold. The road was filled with plains and wilderness. The main force had already stationed at the stronghold. There were not many people around her. She had already prepared herself for a surprise attack by the Pilgrimage Alliance, but the journey was smooth.
Perhaps it was the sixth sense developed from fighting on the line between life and death for a long time. The calmer the situation was, the more uneasy Amenla felt.
The letter she received from the Papal States the day before yesterday came to her mind again. The child who knew nothing about the past warned her. Amenra was not completely unaware of Calais's ill intentions. In fact, even without Raphael's warning, she would not have had such a good-faith trust in Calais.
This was a decades-long dispute between Calais and Assyria.
Back then, if Calais had not been eyeing Assyria covetously and taking the lead in raising the banner of attack, Assyria would not have reached its current state due to some internal chaos.
When Amenra's father was in power, Calais and Assyria were mortal enemies. In 1045, the "Valentine Port Rebellion" broke out in Assyria and a civil war broke out. The following year, Calais invaded Assyria on a large scale. Small surrounding countries such as Pombalai and Sandon also attacked Assyria at the same time. Assyria was caught in a situation of being besieged on all sides. In such a predicament, Assyria and Roman signed a marriage contract between heirs in 1047. Amenra was only seven years old at that time.
In 1048, Roman sent troops to maintain the basic integrity of Assyria's territory, and at the same time took away two Assyrian islands as "dowry for the future queen."
In 1049, war broke out between Calais and Romanesque in the Duchy of Burgundy. All wine production in Burgundy that year was zero, and many wine cellars and storerooms were looted. The following year, all the wineries under the name of the Portia Bank made a lot of money. They used the money to acquire a large number of Burgundy estates in turn, and took down deep roots in this remote and fertile land, flowing with top-quality wines.
In 1051, the eleven-year-old Assyrian princess went to the battlefield for the first time.
In 1053, the young princess independently led a team to launch a surprise attack on the port. After four days and four nights of sleepless long-distance raid, with the support of Roman reinforcements, the civil strife that had lasted for nearly ten years was completely quelled in the Battle of Tauriel. ⑩
In 1054, Archbishop Delacroix of Valencia was exiled to Assyria for spreading new ideas and was hired as a religious tutor to the Assyrian princess.
Everything seemed to be guided by fate, vaguely following God's logic in the chaos, and finally reaching an irreversible situation.
Amenla seldom recalls the past, and never laments the past years. For her, there are too many things that need her to consider, too many for her to indulge in the past. But perhaps Raphael's letter happened to appear at a delicate time, which made Amenla involuntarily feel a little tenderness.
"His Majesty--"
But her thoughts did not last much longer, as she was awakened by panicked and shocked shouts. The queen looked up suddenly and saw that on the distant hillside, the flags of the Pilgrimage Heavenly Alliance were standing up one after another, like dark clouds, covering the sky.
The queen clenched the heavy sword in her hand and turned back suddenly. She heard a faint explosion from behind and the bridge they came from had been cut off.
Amid the soldiers' stunned and panicked gazes and shouts, the queen did not show any sign of vulnerability. She just raised one hand calmly and steadily. The dark clouds in the sky rolled over, revealing a narrow line. The sunlight poured onto her through the gap. She had a texture that was harder and sharper than that of men, which made her look like the Valkyrie who had fought under the Holy Lord hundreds of years ago and was invincible.
"Prepare for battle." The queen's words were brief and powerful. Miraculously, when everyone heard her words, their uneasy hearts calmed down.
The queen's loyal soldiers clenched their weapons. At that moment, they became marble sculptures in the wilderness, facing the dark masses of enemies ahead, silently waiting for the monarch's orders.
The horses, who understood human nature, also slowed down their breathing. The heavy exhalations became the only noise. They could hear their own beating heartbeats and their blood slowly boiling.
The queen pulled the reins and gently kicked the horse's belly with her foot. The clever horse immediately understood what its master meant and took slow steps, increasing its pace at a steady rhythm and frequency. The other horses followed the lead horse tacitly, and their steps gradually changed from light to rapid, and finally became a line of torrential rain and thunder, rushing towards the iron wall of defense ahead with an indomitable and terrifying momentum.
Given the extreme disparity in numbers, the only way for them to survive was to take the initiative to charge.
The war horses neighed, and as the queen's figure shot out like an arrow, countless soldiers followed on their horses, and with the sound of horse hooves roaring like thunder, they drove into the heart of the plain like wedges!
Looking from the sky, it seemed as if a streak of turbid gray smoke was streaking across the earth, and the smoke rushed rapidly from the southern end of the plain to the northern end, like a wolf's claws gripping the devastated and barren land, or like a tide that was about to sweep away all the ugly and fragile things in the world, and what they were about to face was a high black wall.
This was a hopeless battle. The number of enemies was so large that it could be said to cover the sky and the sun. They were facing a warrior princess who had stepped onto the battlefield at the tender age of eleven and had been in Assyria for many years. Countless rebels had died under her sword. She had fought with the world's top monarchs for a long time, and time proved that she had never failed. She had created glory that was admired by everyone, and it seemed that nothing in the world could destroy her powerful soul.
So they decided to pay her the highest tribute befitting a monarch.
This is a hunt of the highest standard.
The crowd pressed heavily against the skyline, riding on equally restless horses, and built an iron wall in front of the queen, which was no different from the gate of hell.
With an indulgent smile on his face, Amenra did not blink as the strong wind whistled past his ears, and charged towards the usurping ministers who came to judge the monarch.
A little closer, a little closer...
Even if it is the gate of hell, we must rush in without stopping!
She heard her heart beating and the fluid in her veins rushing wildly. She turned her wrist, and the side of the saber reflected a cold light. She lay on the horse's back to reduce wind resistance, and both her body and the saber became the sharpest point on this indestructible charging long sword.
"kill!"
A bloody shout was torn out from his throat, along with the roars and tearing sounds of the soldiers behind him, shaking out like a tsunami, and together stabbing towards the barrier in front of him.
The knife stabbed fiercely into the black iron barrier in front, and bright scarlet instantly bloomed in the black and gray. The horses neighed and collided with each other, and the blades were unsheathed with a clang. Sparks splashed in the fight with their own kind. The blood of the enemy and me spread out in an instant, and was trampled into the moist soil by the horses' hooves, continuously adding moisture to the land.
All the loyal guards were desperately trying to tear open a way of escape for the queen. They were all fearless beasts, madly biting the enemies who blocked the queen's way. The death of each person could take away three or four times the lives. In the end, even their enemies were terrified and subconsciously wanted to avoid these blood-covered devils.
Perhaps Changshengtian finally chose to protect his ill-fated daughter. After several hours of fierce fighting, Amenra rushed out of this deadly hunting ground, with only five guards around her.
The queen looked more embarrassed than ever before. She grabbed the reins - this horse was no longer the same one. The warhorse that had followed her across half of Assyria had died half an hour ago. She had taken this horse from the man who had killed her mount, and gave him his life as a gift.
The six men drove the exhausted horses frantically, with a large crowd of pursuers behind them. No one showed any pity for the horses that were foaming at the mouth. Blood flowed down their bodies onto the saddles, leaving straight red lines on the ground.
"Your Majesty! They are our people!" A sharp-eyed guard saw the flag in front of him and cheered at the top of his lungs.
Amenla didn't have the strength to speak. They plunged into their companions, which symbolized safety. Amenla finally had the strength to stop. While changing horses with the people around him, he turned around and stared coldly at the pursuers who were chasing him like hyenas.
"Since they didn't leave me there, it's my turn now."
The queen wiped the wet blood off her face and ignored the minor wounds. Her expression was as hard and cold as if she was wearing a cast iron mask. Her army surrounded her, with the vast sky above her heads and endless enemies in front of her. The queen clenched her knife.
"charge!"
Amid the ear-shattering sound of fighting, Yamenla suddenly felt a thin silver light flash in her peripheral vision. The light came from behind her and disappeared from her sight as she screamed an instinctive warning. She felt a very thin and clear crisp sound coming from her neck. The sound was almost inaudible on the battlefield, but in her ears it was like the sound of bells and drums.
The chain of the gold locket that had been with her for many years was cut by the scraping blade. She subconsciously reached out to grab it. When her palm touched the metal with body temperature, she was captured by an extreme pain.
Under the shocked and horrified gaze of everyone, the queen fell off her horse like a leaf blown by the wind.
At the end of his life, countless chaotic scenes flashed through Amenra's mind, including the little smiling face of Sangxia when she was young, the wind that never stopped blowing day and night in the Assyrian wilderness, the Roman court with the scent of roses, Delacroix's purple eyes, and the resentful look of Lav XI before his death.
But the future of Assyria, the future of Roman, and even the outcome of this war - she strangely did not think about these.
She suddenly recalled the last time she met Raphael in the palace garden before she left Roman that year.
That was the second and last time she touched her child in her life.
How regretful she was, if she could have given him a hug at that time, if she could have kissed his forehead, if she could have called him, my child?
If she had known that was all, she would have grabbed him at all costs, told him how much his mother missed him, and told him that she had never thought of abandoning him.
Unfortunately, things don't always go as one wishes, and fate has never been kind to her.
She had never even called him by his name to his face, like any ordinary mother would do.
The queen's bright sapphire eyes, deep and wild, dimmed. She still tightly grasped the golden locket in her fingers. The sunlight fell on her with mercy, illuminating the young face vaguely visible in the locket.
With long light blond hair and purple eyes, and the background of the lush trees of the Florence Seminary, he looked like an angel passing by the world in a hurry, and just gave a cold glance to the person painting his portrait.
That's all a mother can have.
The author has something to say:
Trembling... No, don't scold me [Put the pot lid on top]
At the end of Chapter 61, when the mother and son met, the queen said, "Fate has tried its best to give you everything it can give." In fact, this was talking about herself. She had tried her best to give Raphael everything she could give him. It was a pity that Raphael didn't know it at the time:)
There will be a personal extra chapter of the Queen in the future. If you want to read it, I can write it [Touch Hands]
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