The Reversed Hierophant

Chapter 57: A Secret Meeting

The carriages outside the Mirror Palace gradually increased in number. Pious believers, cunning speculators, and fence-sitters eager for news… all sorts of people filled the palace secretariat with their requests for an audience. Several secretaries who had followed the Pope from Florence had to sort through the voluminous correspondence daily, categorizing it before presenting it to His Holiness before his morning prayers. The workload was undeniably immense.

Unless invited to a banquet by Her Majesty the Queen, Pope Sistine I’s daily routine was regular and simple. A half-hour of morning prayer, breakfast, receiving one or two visitors, then an afternoon of work, followed by tea, and finally, the most important meal of the day, dinner, and some free time.

This routine continued until February when the Royal Council of Perigo convened to discuss the issue of Princess Sancha’s legitimate succession rights.

The first day of the meeting was open to both upper and lower houses of parliament, where they publicly debated whether to uphold the Sarik Succession Law, an ancient law that had been in place in Rome for hundreds of years, excluding women from the right of succession. As the only legitimate child of Lav XI, Sancha was naturally excluded from the line of succession.

According to the law of succession, if Sancha was excluded, the heir would need to be traced back up the bloodline to find the closest male relative to inherit Lav XI’s throne. As Lav XI’s cousin, Duke Horton was the chosen one.

Naturally, Amandra couldn’t bear to see her daughter’s throne fall into someone else’s hands. The nobles, on the other hand, held an ambiguous attitude towards this problem. They were hesitant to have a princess with foreign blood ruling Rome, especially since this could potentially lead to Rome becoming part of Assyria. But this also meant that Queen Mother Amandra would have to make significant concessions to them to gain their support. Moreover, women would always have to eventually marry and have children. Perhaps they had a chance to introduce their family’s lineage into the bloodline of Rome’s royal family?

After all, people are selfish creatures. In their pursuit of power and the expansion of their family’s influence, the nobles sometimes didn’t care so much about the fate of the Roman Empire. As long as the price was right, they could kneel before Sancha and swear their allegiance without blinking an eye.

The Princess faction and the Duke faction had been at odds for the five years since Lav XI’s death, but neither side had completely broken with the other. The longer the time dragged on, the more opportunities there were for the nobles to profit by playing both sides. They didn’t want to completely offend either party. As long as they didn’t resort to unforgivable means, even if they lost in the struggle for the throne, the loser would still be the duke or princess, while they themselves didn’t have such a golden ticket to immunity.

The debate in the parliament about the succession law had continued for dozens of sessions, each time halted for different reasons. Until this time, with the escalating chaos in Assyria and the arrival of the Pope, everyone knew that this meeting would be the last. The Roman crown, which had been vacant for nearly five years, was about to find its new owner.

Rafael did not attend the first day of the meeting. After all, it was Rome’s domestic affair. As an outsider, he only needed to attend on specific occasions. As night fell, a letter from the palace was delivered to the Mirror Palace, informing him of the day’s results.

The result was that there was no result.

The Duke’s faction insisted on following tradition and demanded the continuation of the Sarik Law of Succession, refusing to amend or abolish it. The Princess’s faction proposed abolishing some of its clauses and adding relevant content to keep up with the times.

The two sides argued fiercely for a whole day, but still reached an impasse. By dinner time, the Speaker announced the adjournment of the meeting.

“We’ve been stalled,” Rafael said thoughtfully after reading the short letter. “For Duke Horton, as long as he does nothing, he can win. Compared to the trouble of modifying or abolishing the law, Horton’s chances of winning are much greater.”

However, he didn’t think the Queen would allow Duke Horton to drag this on. The chaos in Assyria had reached an uncontrollable point, and the Queen’s patience had been exhausted by the long tug-of-war. In fact, Rafael guessed that if Duke Horton continued to be so complacent, Amandra, who was previously known as the “Warrior Princess,” might stage a Roman version of a royal revolution.

The next day, the progress of the parliament remained stagnant. As the glow of the setting sun shone on the scales above the door of the parliament hall, the Speaker rang the bell and announced the adjournment of the meeting again.

As the Queen Mother of Rome, Amandra was not legally qualified to attend the council, but in reality, she had served as regent for five years, and the council had set up a seat for the Queen Mother below the seat that rightfully belonged to the monarch.

On the third day, the councilors were still arguing heatedly, and the tea was constantly being replaced. Everyone looked tired. Amandra sat for half an hour before leaving. Her chief lady-in-waiting listened to the rest of the meeting on her behalf—another day with no progress.

That night, several unusually low-key carriages left the palace and entered the homes of several nobles.

At the same time, the Mirror Palace also welcomed a distinguished guest.

Rafael and his guest strolled through the long corridors of the Mirror Palace. Rafael was nominally the temporary master of the Mirror Palace, but it was clear that he was not as familiar with the palace as the man beside him.

They stood in the armory, and Duke Horton casually pulled out a spear held by an armored knight. “When I was a child, my grandmother would invite all the royal children to the Mirror Palace for vacation every summer. My father died early, so my grandmother took special care of me. I was treated better than any of the other children, almost as well as my cousin at the time. There was a royal forest outside, exclusively for us to hunt, and I could see the lake in the center of the forest from my room.”

Rafael also picked up a dagger from the cabinet and tested the blade with his thumb. The blade, which had been stored here for many years, had not lost its sharpness, leaving a thin red mark on his fingertip.

Rafael wiped away the blood without a care and heard Duke Horton exclaim in surprise, “Oh, this long sword is still here!”

Rafael turned and saw the duke bending over, pulling out half a sword from the knight’s leather scabbard behind him.

It was a broadsword as wide as an adult man’s palm, made of bronze, and covered in rust. It was broken abruptly in the middle of the blade, as if it had been split in two after suffering some kind of heavy blow.

Duke Horton smiled nostalgically. “This was the weapon used by my ancestor, Lav V. His most famous battle was the Battle of Tenburg against Assyria. In that battle, he alone killed 68 Assyrian soldiers with this very sword. After his death, this sword was treasured here. When I was a child, I often came here to play with my cousin, holding the weapons here and pretending to be heroes. This sword was accidentally broken by me at that time.”

“After so many years, even the hardest things will wear away. It shows that nothing in the world is unchanging,” Duke Horton said meaningfully.

As a member of the royal family, Duke Horton was quite persuasive when he wanted to appear friendly.

Even though both people present were well aware of what he had done.

Rafael smiled. “Did you come here late at night just to reminisce about your wonderful childhood with me?”

“Of course not. I’m here to tell you something,” Duke Horton paused, sheathing the broken sword. “To prevent you from having lifelong regrets.”

Rafael looked at him quizzically. “…Your words are quite interesting. It sounds like you know me very well.”

Duke Horton’s smile widened. The middle-aged man, who had dressed carefully for this meeting, stroked his curly beard and narrowed his eyes. “Helping your enemy fulfil his wish, won’t you agree that it’s something that you will regret for the rest of your life?”

A trace of doubt flashed across Rafael’s face. He cautiously said, “I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

Duke Horton took a step forward, staring at Rafael with his brown eyes, unwilling to miss the slightest change in his expression. “Your father, Pope Vitalian III——”

“Please watch your words,” Rafael’s face suddenly turned cold, his tone harsh.

“You are slandering the reputation of Pope Vitalian III and myself. Pope Vitalian III had only three children during his marriage: his eldest son, Redrick, his second son, Pedro, and his daughter, Sulianna. Apart from them, there are no other bloodlines. Or are you accusing me of being born illegitimately? If so, Florence will consider your words as a provocation against the Holy See. Please await Florence’s decree of excommunication.”

The Pope’s voice was as cold as ice, and his lavender eyes were filled with angry murderous intent. Duke Horton had never expected that his words would cause such great anger. Seeing the Pope turning around about to leave, he suddenly panicked, and all the elation he had felt earlier at learning about such a huge secret disappeared.

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Why did he leave without even listening to him? His attitude was as if he really had nothing to do with Vitalian III and didn’t care at all about the secret being revealed. Could it be that Sistine I really wasn’t the illegitimate son of Vitalian III? Or was he just bluffing?

Duke Horton was a little panicked. If he had been deceived by that person, then he would have completely angered the Pope this time. Forget about gaining Florence’s support; he would probably be met with immediate retaliation.

His shallow mind couldn’t support him thinking any further. Almost frightened, Duke Horton lost his composure and hurriedly took two steps forward to block the door. Meeting the Pope’s eyes, which was brewing a storm of anger, he awkwardly forced a smile. “No… I mean, I misspoke earlier. But this matter is related to Vitalian III. He was your predecessor and held the highest position of faith. Aren’t you curious about the cause of his death at all?”

Rafael cast his cold eyes on him, lingering on his face for a moment until Duke Horton began to sweat. Then he said lightly, “Please be more careful with your words in the future, Your Grace. If outsiders were to hear your slip of the tongue, it would not end well. As for Pope Vitalian III… everyone knows the reason why he was called to God. A despicable assassin took his life, preventing him from fulfilling his divine duties on earth. If you insist on investigating, it’s because the religious reforms he presided over made many people extremely dissatisfied.”

This was a well-known fact and was recorded in the official history of the Church. Of course, the history books wouldn’t be so blunt, but would say something like ‘he gave his life for the cause of the Lord.’

‘Could it be that the Duke knows some sort of secret?’

Why would a Roman Duke be connected to the death of the Pope of Florence? The alarm bells in Rafael’s heart rang. No matter what Duke Horton knew, whether the secret was true or false, it meant that someone was targeting him and Florence, which was not a good sign.

A thin layer of sweat broke out on Duke Horton’s palms. He leaned forward, trying to get closer to Rafael. The vigilant Pope took a half-step back. The Duke stopped his movement, and a strange, dark fire burned in his eyes.

On countless nights throughout human history, in secrets both known and unknown, this fire has ignited countless times. Lust, jealousy, anger, greed… human desires are twisted and dark, and they flicker and burn in the eyes of different people, like snakes winding through dark, and damp waterways, eager to break out of warm flesh and lick at the nourishment of desire.

Countless voices, countless conspiracies, countless whispers flowed from Duke Horton’s throat, coalescing into a single sentence.

“The man who murdered Pope Vitalian III was my cousin, Lav XI.”

Rafael’s pupils contracted sharply.

The statement was so bizarre that Rafael couldn’t even control his expression for a moment. After a long pause, he frowned and looked at Duke Horton as if he was a fool. “…That’s not a funny joke. Lav XI and Vitalian III had no connection at all.”

During Pope Vitalian III’s reign, he had been dedicated to religious reform, and the main testing ground for his reform was within the Papal States. He had no significant conflict of interest with Rome, which was thousands of miles away. Even if there were any contradictions, they would only arise after the reforms were successful. How could it have provoked Lav XI’s murderous intent?

This is like saying that Ferrante would kill Rafael in the future, something he would find outrageous.

Originally, he had thought Duke Horton would say something useful, but it turned out to be a ridiculous rumor. Rafael immediately lost interest in dealing with him and turned to leave. Duke Horton raised his voice, “Did Lav XI and Vitalian III really have no connection? Why did His Holiness suddenly decide to go on a tour?”

“It was to inspect the religious reforms within the Papal States,” Rafael said in a deep voice.

“Perhaps that was just a cover. The real reason was that he was about to do the same thing you are doing now.” Duke Horton slowly repeated what the man had told him.

Rafael suddenly raised his eyes.

Was Pope Vitalian III also going to Rome at that time? Indeed, his route was very close to the border of the Papal States, and a few more cities would bring him to the border of the Roman Empire. His entourage was also larger than usual, and it could be said that it was a diplomatic visit. But a papal visit was not a big deal, so why would he pretend to be on a tour? Unless this visit was illegal…

Illegal, illegal…

Had he not been invited by the Roman Emperor?

If that was the case, why would he have gone to Rome…

‘He was about to do the same thing you are doing now’ – Vitalian III had been invited by Queen Amandra at the time. He was going to Rome to help Amandra reform the succession law and push for Sancha to gain legitimate succession rights!

Duke Horton walked over and approached him and this time Rafael didn’t move. The duke whispered in his ear, “My cousin was a man of many loves. He had several illegitimate children, and Sancha was just one of his least favored daughters, but she happened to be his only legitimate child.”

“Are you going to help the enemy who directly caused Vitalian III’s death to obtain the throne? This mother and daughter have vicious hearts and cunning minds, and you are not without other options. If you are willing, I can help you take revenge openly. Of course, to make up for some of the mistakes I’ve made before, you will also have the full support of Rome.”

Duke Horton nodded slightly at him and left.

Rafael stood there, digesting the fact that Horton had brought to him. His mind worked faster than his emotions. Although it was very bizarre, he had to admit that what Horton had said was probably the truth.

Back then, the situation in Rome was turbulent. Lav XI’s health was declining, and he had no choice but to let Queen Amandra serve as regent. As the queen’s power gradually grew, Lav XI felt uneasy. He wanted to establish his illegitimate son as the heir to the throne. Amandra discovered her husband’s intentions and wanted to abolish the Sarik Law ahead of time to allow Sancha to inherit the throne. To this end, she sought the help of her ally, Vitalian III. However, Lav XI noticed their actions and intercepted the Pope halfway, causing Amandra’s plan to fail, and the succession to the Roman throne fell into deadlock once again.

It fit perfectly.

Rafael exhaled slowly. When they talked in the secret room of the Mirror Palace, Amandra hadn’t told him about this. Was it because their cooperation wasn’t close enough, or did Amandra still not trust him, or was this whole thing just a ploy by Duke Horton to sow discord?

He needed more evidence.

On the fourth day, when the Speaker once again numbly read out the agenda and announced the beginning of the meeting, Queen Regent Amandra, who had sat in her seat for three days without saying a word, rang the bell in front of her seat.

The Queen’s voice was majestic and cold, “Gentlemen, my time is very precious. For reasons that are well known to all, I cannot wait for you all to speak here and exercise your brilliant wisdom. I need an answer as soon as possible. The modification of the succession law, can it be done, or not?”

“To improve our efficiency, let us follow Florence’s example of electing a pope. From now on, until a decision is reached, our meeting will not be adjourned.”

As the Queen’s voice fell, the councilors were astonished to find that all the doors and windows of the meeting hall had been tightly closed. Royal guards flooded in and stood in a circle along the walls, their hands gripping gleaming swords, their waists hung with brass spears, their blades pointed towards the conference table. The implication was extremely clear.

Either give an answer that satisfies the Queen as soon as possible, or stay here forever.

Amandra looked coldly at everyone around the long table, her face devoid of any expression.

She knew that this act would definitely provoke the anger and resistance of the nobles. Those nobles who were on her side also showed dissatisfaction in their expressions. In the absence of external enemies, the nobles and the monarch could never stand on the same side. Her actions were almost a display of the monarch’s authority to the entire noble class, but she had no more time to waste.

A new report had just arrived from Assyria. The capital, Gonda, was under siege by rebel forces. If Gonda fell, the entire Assyria would completely fall apart. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Answer me, gentlemen.”

The Queen repeated.