Sir Elko suddenly became angry.
“If you can’t kill her and don’t provide support from behind, what do you want me to do?”
He did not trust his opponents. Although they were cooperating, the Gallicos were vulgar men who did not know God.
If this goes wrong, the other side can just cut off their tail and run away.
The higher-ups just stick out their flippers and pretend they don't know anything, and the lower-ups just quickly run out the gate and escape.
But him? This was his homeland, not where he was born, but where he grew up.
“Should I blow it all and turn myself in right now?”
Would he be okay if he turned himself in now? It was obvious that he would be kicked out, and he wasn't sure whether even the most merciful Prince Alfonso would let him go with his head tied.
A cruel monarch would cut off his limbs and throw them away.
Sir Elko smiled bitterly. Even if the world's greatest tyrant comes, no one can cut off his limbs now.
'I already have one missing.'
If he is kicked out of the palace as a one-armed man with no health, he will not be able to even lift a plow, let alone a sword, and he will have nowhere to rely on.
It was either freezing to death on the street or being beheaded in the palace. But he couldn't die alone.
There was a huge difference between dying alone or embracing the Duke of Gallico and his men, and more precisely, the Grand Duchess of Lariesa.
The middle-aged detective slowly took out a very large envelope from the living room drawer with a displeased look on his face and handed it to Sir Elko.
“Here it is. I had a hard time putting it together.”
Sir Elko accepted the envelope without any congratulations or thanks.
"And?"
A look of disgust crossed the middle-aged detective's face. It was the kind of expression that could only be made when one truly regarded the other person as trash, without any trace of humanity.
He wanted to throw the papers in Sir Elko's face without saying a word, but unfortunately, this was the kind of thing that had to be communicated verbally.
“I’ve prepared the position you requested. If they accept, you can be ordained and start working right away.”
“That went well.”
He was a man who would never say thank you even if he died soon. The middle-aged detective raised an objection.
“Do you really have to go that far? It would be better to just kill her on the way home at night...”
“How can I kill that woman?”
Sir Elko asked incredulously.
“If there was someone capable of killing that woman, you should have sent him to kill that woman.”
When this story came up, the detective had nothing to say. After chewing on the end of the stick for a long time, he finally said a word.
“...'He' is not feeling well and is no longer involved in this matter.”
Elko wasn't the one who did it.
“Now that everything is sorted out, it’s time to give orders from above.”
Elko thought that being impulsive and stupid was in his blood, so even if the person in charge changed from 'him' to 'his mother', it would still be the same.
What stopped him from saying what he was about to say was a line he had heard in the past.
“You take after your mother, so you will be of no use to me forever.”
Because that was the exact same thing he hated to hear the most.
'I ended up being the same person.'
Perhaps vices that run in the bloodline are like flowers of evil that bloom uncontrollably after a certain age.
It is unknown whether the incompetence and betrayal that resembles his mother will blossom, or whether the cruelty that resembles his father will blossom. Sir Elko shook his head to clear his mind of distracting thoughts.
“Let’s proceed with the second one as we discussed at the beginning. I wish you would do it right now.”
He got up from his seat. He was going to return to the palace. The detective asked urgently.
“What about the woman?”
Elko replied annoyedly.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Two attempts to kill her failed. Unless she was an idiot, she wouldn't stay still.
If you can't physically separate them, you have to separate them, even if it makes it seem unbelievable.
He didn't know how he could do better than he was now, but he had to do it somehow. Sir Elko's head was starting to hurt.
Since it would be wrong to kill everyone involved and silence them, could there be any eternal secrets on this narrow San Carlo floor?
“When will the Archduchess be able to come down south?”
The only way for Elko to survive was for Prince Alfonso to marry Princess Lariesa and for them to become a proper couple before this was revealed.
Princess Lariesa, or rather the Princess who has established herself in the Etruscan kingdom, should step forward to save him, saying that he has worked hard for them and has ultimately helped the national interest, so he should not be punished.
It would be possible to maintain everything that he had now. No, it was the path to becoming the new era's Queen's confidant.
It was horrible to have to come face to face with a Gallico, but it was better if it was a woman who was part of the Etruscan palace.
“It’s not something that someone like you can know.”
The middle-aged detective was uncooperative. Sir Elko was upset, but he internally consoled himself. It was information that even he wouldn't know anyway.
“Tell them to do whatever it takes quickly, quickly.”
Princess Lariesa was already twenty-three years old this year.
Time passed quickly, and twenty-five, the age generally accepted as the age for entering a convent, was just around the corner. Why would she put it off like this when she would become so old that she would become a nun?
“Stop your useless interference and just get out of here.”
The first deadline for paying back his massive lie was approaching.
As luck would have it, the gold that the woman had brought had the seal of an Etruscan King on it.
And one who is beyond his reach—her father, the Cardinal—will soon have a one-on-one meeting with the Prince.
“My only wish is to get out of this dirty tobacco pit.”
Sir Elko once again put on his brown cloak, which gave him freedom.
“Don’t contact me before I contact you first.”
He opened the door and walked into the crowd.
Raphael set foot in the de Mare mansion for the first time in a long time. Many things had changed. Unfamiliar faces were standing guard.
'No, I know your face.'
The problem was that there wasn't a familiar face there.
Unless Raphael's memory suddenly developed a problem, some of the people dispatched here were from the Prince's palace.
What on earth could the married Prince's men possibly be doing in the Countess's house?
Even Ariadne hadn't been seeing him very well lately. Raphael's mood was getting worse and worse.
'Was it because of this?'
Fortunately, the unpleasant sphericals were only patrolling outside the mansion, and only the de Mare family members were inside the mansion.
He tried to shake off the vain thoughts, but once the unpleasant thoughts entered his mind, they would not easily disappear.
“Raphael!”
However, Ariadne, who met him in the study, welcomed him happily.
“You said we needed to discuss school matters today, right?”
Scuola di Greta. She won't meet him unless he makes an excuse, so that's just an excuse.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Rather than urgent...”
As for the Scuola di Greta, Raphael had almost complete authority.
In fact, Rafael de Baldessar was a master ox-butcher who was employed in slaughtering chickens.
Not only did he teach children simple letters and math, but he also wrote textbooks in his spare time and eventually completed the establishment of a curriculum for each grade.
Now, the school's foundation was so well established that a new teacher could simply teach in order based on the materials left behind by Raphael.
“An offer has come.”
“What..?”
“I got an offer for the position I originally dreamed of.”
“Raphael!”
“Gaston.”
It was somewhat, no, quite unexpected that a classmate from the theological faculty of Padua came to see Raphael.
“Why did you come here so suddenly? You should have called me in advance.”
“But you know... this is a very precious opportunity.”
He was thirsty for tea. There was a reason why he would bring up the seats that everyone wanted to go to and cling to the friends who said they didn't want to go.
“In fact, Archbishop Guerin personally pointed you out.”
"Me?"
Raphael's red eyes widened like a rabbit's. This was a development he had not expected.
“Why on earth?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask. Do you have any idea?”
Positions like this were usually created for the second or third children of high-ranking families, or the illegitimate children of Cardinals.
Gaston decided to keep jokes like, "Have you got something against your parents? Are they going to kick you out of the family?" to himself.
Because they weren't that close. What if the Marquis Baldessar and his wife really asked Archbishop Guerin to get rid of Raphael?
Raphael himself couldn't understand why this had come to him. He blinked.
“Archbishop Guerin? Are you sure?”
“Then how could I possibly get the names of the people I serve mixed up? He asked me to ask Raphael of the Etruscan Marquis Baldessar if he would be willing to write them in large letters next to me.”
Gaston emphasized this several times.
This is a stroke of luck for a young man determined to become a priest. The Baldessar family is great, but not one that would have the power to influence the Archbishop of Gallico. It seems Archbishop Guerin really likes Raphael, so you can't afford to miss this opportunity.
He pulled out his last card of persuasion.
“Even, you're promised a position as a deputy superintendent in half a year.”
“Deputy Superintendent...?”
Raphael was also quite surprised by this offer.
Although the vicar was not the official of the district to which he had been formally granted a parish, he was free to exercise pastoral care and supervise the district that comprised several parishes.
In short, it was a position where there was no responsibility and one could freely lecture others.
It was also the most preferred position for those who wanted to become corrupt priests. The work was easy, it was fun to mess around with, and if you just threw away your conscience, you could become very rich.
“If you refuse this, you are a fool, Raphael.”
Raphael answered slowly.
"...Surely, any would-be priest who refuses that would be the most foolish and ignorant person in the world.”
“If you can’t kill her and don’t provide support from behind, what do you want me to do?”
He did not trust his opponents. Although they were cooperating, the Gallicos were vulgar men who did not know God.
If this goes wrong, the other side can just cut off their tail and run away.
The higher-ups just stick out their flippers and pretend they don't know anything, and the lower-ups just quickly run out the gate and escape.
But him? This was his homeland, not where he was born, but where he grew up.
“Should I blow it all and turn myself in right now?”
Would he be okay if he turned himself in now? It was obvious that he would be kicked out, and he wasn't sure whether even the most merciful Prince Alfonso would let him go with his head tied.
A cruel monarch would cut off his limbs and throw them away.
Sir Elko smiled bitterly. Even if the world's greatest tyrant comes, no one can cut off his limbs now.
'I already have one missing.'
If he is kicked out of the palace as a one-armed man with no health, he will not be able to even lift a plow, let alone a sword, and he will have nowhere to rely on.
It was either freezing to death on the street or being beheaded in the palace. But he couldn't die alone.
There was a huge difference between dying alone or embracing the Duke of Gallico and his men, and more precisely, the Grand Duchess of Lariesa.
The middle-aged detective slowly took out a very large envelope from the living room drawer with a displeased look on his face and handed it to Sir Elko.
“Here it is. I had a hard time putting it together.”
Sir Elko accepted the envelope without any congratulations or thanks.
"And?"
A look of disgust crossed the middle-aged detective's face. It was the kind of expression that could only be made when one truly regarded the other person as trash, without any trace of humanity.
He wanted to throw the papers in Sir Elko's face without saying a word, but unfortunately, this was the kind of thing that had to be communicated verbally.
“I’ve prepared the position you requested. If they accept, you can be ordained and start working right away.”
“That went well.”
He was a man who would never say thank you even if he died soon. The middle-aged detective raised an objection.
“Do you really have to go that far? It would be better to just kill her on the way home at night...”
“How can I kill that woman?”
Sir Elko asked incredulously.
“If there was someone capable of killing that woman, you should have sent him to kill that woman.”
When this story came up, the detective had nothing to say. After chewing on the end of the stick for a long time, he finally said a word.
“...'He' is not feeling well and is no longer involved in this matter.”
Elko wasn't the one who did it.
“Now that everything is sorted out, it’s time to give orders from above.”
Elko thought that being impulsive and stupid was in his blood, so even if the person in charge changed from 'him' to 'his mother', it would still be the same.
What stopped him from saying what he was about to say was a line he had heard in the past.
“You take after your mother, so you will be of no use to me forever.”
Because that was the exact same thing he hated to hear the most.
'I ended up being the same person.'
Perhaps vices that run in the bloodline are like flowers of evil that bloom uncontrollably after a certain age.
It is unknown whether the incompetence and betrayal that resembles his mother will blossom, or whether the cruelty that resembles his father will blossom. Sir Elko shook his head to clear his mind of distracting thoughts.
“Let’s proceed with the second one as we discussed at the beginning. I wish you would do it right now.”
He got up from his seat. He was going to return to the palace. The detective asked urgently.
“What about the woman?”
Elko replied annoyedly.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Two attempts to kill her failed. Unless she was an idiot, she wouldn't stay still.
If you can't physically separate them, you have to separate them, even if it makes it seem unbelievable.
He didn't know how he could do better than he was now, but he had to do it somehow. Sir Elko's head was starting to hurt.
Since it would be wrong to kill everyone involved and silence them, could there be any eternal secrets on this narrow San Carlo floor?
“When will the Archduchess be able to come down south?”
The only way for Elko to survive was for Prince Alfonso to marry Princess Lariesa and for them to become a proper couple before this was revealed.
Princess Lariesa, or rather the Princess who has established herself in the Etruscan kingdom, should step forward to save him, saying that he has worked hard for them and has ultimately helped the national interest, so he should not be punished.
It would be possible to maintain everything that he had now. No, it was the path to becoming the new era's Queen's confidant.
It was horrible to have to come face to face with a Gallico, but it was better if it was a woman who was part of the Etruscan palace.
“It’s not something that someone like you can know.”
The middle-aged detective was uncooperative. Sir Elko was upset, but he internally consoled himself. It was information that even he wouldn't know anyway.
“Tell them to do whatever it takes quickly, quickly.”
Princess Lariesa was already twenty-three years old this year.
Time passed quickly, and twenty-five, the age generally accepted as the age for entering a convent, was just around the corner. Why would she put it off like this when she would become so old that she would become a nun?
“Stop your useless interference and just get out of here.”
The first deadline for paying back his massive lie was approaching.
As luck would have it, the gold that the woman had brought had the seal of an Etruscan King on it.
And one who is beyond his reach—her father, the Cardinal—will soon have a one-on-one meeting with the Prince.
“My only wish is to get out of this dirty tobacco pit.”
Sir Elko once again put on his brown cloak, which gave him freedom.
“Don’t contact me before I contact you first.”
He opened the door and walked into the crowd.
***
Raphael set foot in the de Mare mansion for the first time in a long time. Many things had changed. Unfamiliar faces were standing guard.
'No, I know your face.'
The problem was that there wasn't a familiar face there.
Unless Raphael's memory suddenly developed a problem, some of the people dispatched here were from the Prince's palace.
What on earth could the married Prince's men possibly be doing in the Countess's house?
Even Ariadne hadn't been seeing him very well lately. Raphael's mood was getting worse and worse.
'Was it because of this?'
Fortunately, the unpleasant sphericals were only patrolling outside the mansion, and only the de Mare family members were inside the mansion.
He tried to shake off the vain thoughts, but once the unpleasant thoughts entered his mind, they would not easily disappear.
“Raphael!”
However, Ariadne, who met him in the study, welcomed him happily.
“You said we needed to discuss school matters today, right?”
Scuola di Greta. She won't meet him unless he makes an excuse, so that's just an excuse.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Rather than urgent...”
As for the Scuola di Greta, Raphael had almost complete authority.
In fact, Rafael de Baldessar was a master ox-butcher who was employed in slaughtering chickens.
Not only did he teach children simple letters and math, but he also wrote textbooks in his spare time and eventually completed the establishment of a curriculum for each grade.
Now, the school's foundation was so well established that a new teacher could simply teach in order based on the materials left behind by Raphael.
“An offer has come.”
“What..?”
“I got an offer for the position I originally dreamed of.”
***
“Raphael!”
“Gaston.”
It was somewhat, no, quite unexpected that a classmate from the theological faculty of Padua came to see Raphael.
“Why did you come here so suddenly? You should have called me in advance.”
Gaston n was someone Raphael hadn't exchanged letters with for almost five years. The word "classmate" was more appropriate than "friend."
“I also came down here suddenly on the orders of the Archbishop. I never imagined it would be San Carlo.”
Unlike Raphael, Gaston graduated from the seminary and was ordained a priest right away.
He returned to his native Gallico and worked under the archbishop there.
He got straight to the point, not even wasting time holding the cup of hot tea left by the Baldessar family's maid.
“Archbishop Guerin is looking for someone to work with him.”
Archbishop Guerin was a powerful figure in the Kingdom of Gallico. He was also someone everyone was looking to promote when the position of cardinal became vacant.
“The young investigator will assist the Archbishop mainly in theological studies.”
It was a place that young people dream of.
When a junior priest was appointed, he was often sent off to do menial tasks for several years, such as copying old books or even tending the monastery's vineyards.
Starting right after receiving ordination in the central office, and especially in the preferred field of theological studies, is a great position that only comes once every few years.
But Raphael answered right away without thinking much about it.
“I haven’t been ordained a deacon yet.”
It was strange that such an offer was made to a civilian who was not even qualified to enter the monastery when many people had been ordained as priests and completed all their training but were unable to find a suitable position and were stuck in a corner of a monastery copying old books.
The two weren't that close for Gaston to have taken special care of him.
“No, you haven’t received it yet?”
Gaston was genuinely surprised.
This was because all of his friends from the same class at the Padua Theological Seminary who had studied seriously had already been ordained as priests several years ago.
“I thought you would have accepted it.”
“There is also the problem of succession within the family.”
“Oh, you had that problem again.”
Gaston spoke as if he understood, but he was not convinced at all.
Raphael de Baldessar had secretly transferred to the seminary with the courage to not care about the family succession. It was a famous story among his classmates.
“I also came down here suddenly on the orders of the Archbishop. I never imagined it would be San Carlo.”
Unlike Raphael, Gaston graduated from the seminary and was ordained a priest right away.
He returned to his native Gallico and worked under the archbishop there.
He got straight to the point, not even wasting time holding the cup of hot tea left by the Baldessar family's maid.
“Archbishop Guerin is looking for someone to work with him.”
Archbishop Guerin was a powerful figure in the Kingdom of Gallico. He was also someone everyone was looking to promote when the position of cardinal became vacant.
“The young investigator will assist the Archbishop mainly in theological studies.”
It was a place that young people dream of.
When a junior priest was appointed, he was often sent off to do menial tasks for several years, such as copying old books or even tending the monastery's vineyards.
Starting right after receiving ordination in the central office, and especially in the preferred field of theological studies, is a great position that only comes once every few years.
But Raphael answered right away without thinking much about it.
“I haven’t been ordained a deacon yet.”
It was strange that such an offer was made to a civilian who was not even qualified to enter the monastery when many people had been ordained as priests and completed all their training but were unable to find a suitable position and were stuck in a corner of a monastery copying old books.
The two weren't that close for Gaston to have taken special care of him.
“No, you haven’t received it yet?”
Gaston was genuinely surprised.
This was because all of his friends from the same class at the Padua Theological Seminary who had studied seriously had already been ordained as priests several years ago.
“I thought you would have accepted it.”
“There is also the problem of succession within the family.”
“Oh, you had that problem again.”
Gaston spoke as if he understood, but he was not convinced at all.
Raphael de Baldessar had secretly transferred to the seminary with the courage to not care about the family succession. It was a famous story among his classmates.
“But you know... this is a very precious opportunity.”
He was thirsty for tea. There was a reason why he would bring up the seats that everyone wanted to go to and cling to the friends who said they didn't want to go.
“In fact, Archbishop Guerin personally pointed you out.”
"Me?"
Raphael's red eyes widened like a rabbit's. This was a development he had not expected.
“Why on earth?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask. Do you have any idea?”
Positions like this were usually created for the second or third children of high-ranking families, or the illegitimate children of Cardinals.
Gaston decided to keep jokes like, "Have you got something against your parents? Are they going to kick you out of the family?" to himself.
Because they weren't that close. What if the Marquis Baldessar and his wife really asked Archbishop Guerin to get rid of Raphael?
Raphael himself couldn't understand why this had come to him. He blinked.
“Archbishop Guerin? Are you sure?”
“Then how could I possibly get the names of the people I serve mixed up? He asked me to ask Raphael of the Etruscan Marquis Baldessar if he would be willing to write them in large letters next to me.”
Gaston emphasized this several times.
This is a stroke of luck for a young man determined to become a priest. The Baldessar family is great, but not one that would have the power to influence the Archbishop of Gallico. It seems Archbishop Guerin really likes Raphael, so you can't afford to miss this opportunity.
He pulled out his last card of persuasion.
“Even, you're promised a position as a deputy superintendent in half a year.”
“Deputy Superintendent...?”
Raphael was also quite surprised by this offer.
Although the vicar was not the official of the district to which he had been formally granted a parish, he was free to exercise pastoral care and supervise the district that comprised several parishes.
In short, it was a position where there was no responsibility and one could freely lecture others.
It was also the most preferred position for those who wanted to become corrupt priests. The work was easy, it was fun to mess around with, and if you just threw away your conscience, you could become very rich.
“If you refuse this, you are a fool, Raphael.”
Raphael answered slowly.
"...Surely, any would-be priest who refuses that would be the most foolish and ignorant person in the world.”
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