Chapter 8 Misty Rose (VIII)
◎Faith◎
Sanxia thought that the new young Pope of Florence was definitely one of the most interesting people she had ever met.
This evaluation cannot be simply divided into praise or criticism, it only proves that Sang Xia is curious about him.
As the fruit of the marriage between Roman and Assyria, Sancha's life was more complicated than that of an ordinary princess. After the divided Assyria tended to unify and her mother was confirmed to be the only queen of Assyria, Sancha's identity changed from a simple princess to a more eye-catching Assyrian Grand Duchess.
As the princess of Roman and the first heir of Assyria, although she is only a 19-year-old girl, Sanxia, with these two identities, has already stood at the top of the world.
Along with the crown of flowers and gems came overwhelming scrutiny and prying, good or bad words, true or false sweet talk, and the fact that she couldn't distinguish right from wrong, which drowned her like a flood. Sangxia learned to face and master the situation like her mother...
But it was difficult, too difficult. Everything in front of her was bizarre and the people around her also became strange. What she had to do was so difficult that it filled her with fear and despair.
So she couldn't wait to accept the mission to Florence, wanting to escape from that suffocating atmosphere.
After hearing her daughter muster up the courage to ask to go to Florence, the Queen of Assyria was silent for a moment.
Sang Xia was surprised that she could remember the situation so clearly.
It was an afternoon when roses were in full bloom. The roses carefully cultivated in the Roman court were growing crowded together, exuding a rich fragrance. The queen, who was over forty but still full of charm - and also the Roman female regent, was sitting in the study. Her long golden brown hair was tied in a diamond crown, her sapphire eyes were deep and moving, her plump red lips were full and moist, and there was a scar under her right eye. Unlike the pale and slender beauty advocated by the Roman court, this queen from Assyria had wheat-colored skin, and her whole body exuded wild and unruly arrogance, like a female leopard from the wilderness, so gorgeous that it was difficult to look directly at her.
Decades of life in the Roman court had worn away the Assyrian princess's rebellious streak. She calmly put down the feather pen in her hand and looked at her daughter who was standing trembling in front of her. An elusive meaning flashed in her eyes.
"Florence?" Queen Amenra asked softly, "Why do you want to go there, my dear child?"
Sang Xia lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the large gems on the hem of her skirt. Unlike the Romanesque long skirts with large skirts, tight waists, wide collars and lotus leaf sleeves that she wore everyday, what she wore today was very "Assyrian". It was a long skirt made of a whole piece of silk, fastened with a belt decorated with gems. The thin gauze scarf on her shoulders dragged to the ground, and the gold powder on it sparkled as she walked.
Her mother had long missed her homeland. Since she became regent, Amenra rarely bound herself in heavy and gorgeous Romanesque court dresses. Scarlet, royal blue, olive green, lemon yellow... all kinds of gorgeous and rich colors swept the entire court with the influx of Assyrian silk. Amenra changed her daily drinking from the wine that the Romans were accustomed to drinking to Assyrian meladar - an Assyrian morning drink, and so on.
The queen's behavior certainly aroused dissatisfaction among many nobles, but due to Amenla's authority, they could only complain privately. Sangxia had heard such complaints many times.
Of course, Amenla was not completely unaware of this, but she arrogantly ignored all the dissatisfaction.
"I heard that the envoy to Calais is the Duke François. In contrast, shouldn't we also have someone of equal status to go with him? Otherwise, Florence might have a problem with Roman." Sang Xia said softly. ←
"Assyria," Amenra stared at her daughter. The two large tortoise-shell cat's eye earrings on her earlobes reflected bright light as the queen moved. "You forgot to say Assyria."
Yes, Assyria and Roman are one and the same, with the supreme ruler of both countries currently being the same person.
But she didn't say anything more. Instead, she looked at the documents piled up on the table and said, "It's good to go out and take a look."
Her mother gave in so quickly that Sangxia, who had been preparing for it for two days, thought she was hallucinating. She looked up in disbelief and found that her mother's expression was strange.
She seemed to be reading the words on the paper, but also seemed to be reading nothing.
"I'll have someone pick out some gifts for you to take to Florence. Also... take the dagger that Assyria just sent with you to celebrate the Pope's succession."
A trace of doubt flashed across Sang Xia's face. Her mother loved the dagger very much and had been wearing it ever since she got it. Now she was willing to give it up? It seems that Florence is still indispensable to Assyria and Roman.
Yamenla raised her eyelids and looked at her young and tender daughter. "I allow you to stay in Florence for a while longer. If possible, build a good relationship with the Pope. At least, don't let Florence turn to Calais."
When mentioning Calais, a trace of undisguised disgust and hatred flashed in the queen's eyes: "Beware of Francois, he is a wild dog that will do anything to achieve his goal. At any time, don't let the knight leave you too far..."
After a pause, she suddenly added: "You can stay in Florence for a while, until you are willing to come back."
Sanxia looked at her in shock. The older woman had seen through her little thoughts long ago, but she did not expose them. Instead, she said gently: "I hope you are happy, Sanxia. I will try my best to give you all the best, even the kingdom and my crown - but besides these responsibilities that cannot be abandoned, I just hope you are happy."
These tender words made Sang Xia feel as if she had returned to her childhood, when noble ladies were walking around and chatting in Roman's court, and countless butterflies were surrounding the monarch. They talked about the king's mistresses who changed like water and the expensive jewelry and clothes of the time, covered their faces with fans, silently sneered at the queen's incompatibility with the court, and saluted the young princess with reserve and contempt.
At that time, Amenla was silent and calm. She wore a Roman court dress, held a glass of wine, and dressed herself up as a qualified Roman. Only when she saw Sangxia would she smile gently, sing an Assyrian lullaby in her ear, and give the sleeping little princess a warm hug.
She loved her child so much that even though Roman's court was so complicated, as the king's only child, Sancha lived a carefree life.
Everything changed until she became regent and the Roman King Laf XI died.
Sangxia also loves her mother passionately, but she finds that she no longer knows how to get along with her mother.
So she left her mother, crossed the strait and the mountains, came to the distant Florence, and met a person...who was hard to describe in words.
"Mother, I am sorry that it has taken so long for me to write to you. I have seen many interesting things in Florence and I want to share them with you right away.
Are you doing well in Romain? I hope Lady Simone has supervised your rest. I have sent you a lot of Florentine specialties, which you may like. ”
In Florence, in the palace allocated to Roman and Assyrian envoys to live, Princess Sanxia lowered her head and wrote a letter to her mother seriously.
This was the first time she wrote to her mother since coming to Florence. Thinking of her meeting with the Pope in the library during the day, she pondered for a while, dipped her quill in the ink bottle, and continued writing.
"...Today I accepted the invitation of the Pope and met him in the library of the Papal Palace. Sistine I has a charm beyond ordinary people. Has the Minister of Foreign Affairs told you what kind of person he is? I think he is very interesting, no... not that kind of interesting, but... I can't think of how to say it, mother, I have never had this feeling before. When he looks at me, my heartbeat can't help but speed up. I want to get close to him and give him a hug. Is this love? I don't know, it's very strange.
"Have you ever had this feeling, too? With my father? Ah, I seem to have strayed off topic, so let's get back to the topic. Sistine I likes reading, and he gave me a few books about Assyria. I read them and found them very interesting. You should like them too. I had someone send them back to Roman along with the gifts - if you have finished reading them, can you tell me? We didn't talk about many topics, but Raphael hinted that he was willing to accept the friendship between Roman and Assyria. For some reason, I felt that he didn't like the visiting Duke François that much, which was normal. I didn't like him either. As you said, the Duke was pretentious and ambitious. It was hard to say how long Emperor Calais could tolerate him."
When writing this, Sanxia thought for a while. She didn't know how to explain her feeling towards Raphael. The feeling was very subtle. She was sure that Raphael had buried his disgust very deep, but she could just find that bit of dissatisfaction under the calm face of the young Pope.
Women's sixth sense is truly mysterious, which allows them to be invincible in many situations.
And those confessions... Sang Xia pouted childishly. It seemed that words could make people reveal their true feelings more easily than words. After all, she was still attached to her mother. What was wrong with a daughter telling her mother some little secrets?
"I noticed that Raphael's current situation may not be very good. You know the Thirteen Council of Florence, the alliance council composed of the other thirteen cities of the Papal States. They are watching the new pope, and Portia... I don't quite understand. After supporting Raphael, it seems to have become estranged from Raphael? In short, I think the pope's situation is a bit bad now, but Raphael didn't say anything. He looks very calm. I sincerely hope that he can get through the difficulties. Are all the previous popes so pitiful? Except for Ryan, who made a fortune."
"…Life here is pretty good, but being away from you makes me feel uncomfortable. I've already started to miss you. If possible, I want to get a hug from you.
"I wish all the best to Her Majesty, the great Queen of Assyria and Regent of Roman.
"Your Sangxia, in Florence."
Sang Xia wrote on a few sheets of parchment with great enthusiasm before putting down her pen contentedly. She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into the wooden tube, then sealed the opening tightly with sealing wax.
At the same time, the owner of the Papal Palace had not yet fallen asleep. After a brief meeting with Princess Sancha during the day, he continued to devote himself to endless work. Documents from the Papal States and other territories continued to flow in. He approved all the letters and put them aside waiting to be sent back, and spread out the documents from the thirteen cities on the table with a gloomy expression.
When the Pope ascended the throne, as territories of the Papal States, these thirteen cities should have immediately sworn allegiance and offered annual payments. The lords did swear allegiance to Florence and Sistine I in various ways, but the most important annual payment...
Apart from the 50,000 gold florins sent by Portia and the 30,000 gold florins paid as last year's taxes, the money sent by the other twelve cities added up to less than 100,000. The various excuses for crying poor could fill a book called "Teaching You How to Default on Debts". Of course, Raphael didn't believe any of these excuses.
But he has no choice now.
He had no one under his command, the Papal Guard was a loose group, the Florence Security Patrol was not under his direct control, and no one was completely loyal to him.
Sanxia's perception was correct. After rejecting Julius's protection, Raphael is now having a hard time.
The young Pope looked depressed for a long time, and suddenly he smiled coldly.
Let’s see who will have the last laugh.
The author has something to say:
Raphael is about to get angry. Forget about love and romance. He wants money! money! money!
Small money is the eternal truth!
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