The Holy See Council was usually held once every hundred years to resolve doctrinal conflicts.
Even without such pressing doctrinal issues, the meeting would not have been possible had Pope Louis XIV not been the absolute ruler who had led the Crusades to success.
The high priests sitting below the podium exchanged opinions among themselves.
“Even without that, it would be too much to just pass the Alemand Law and go back...”
“Right? There wasn’t enough justification.”
Everyone gathered here today probably knew that the introduction of the Alemand amnesty at this council was due to the influence of King Philip of Gallico.
In a way, it was a shameful thing. Someone said something that others could not bring themselves to say.
“The Council is not an institution that serves worldly powers.”
That was the starting point. Pride and elation spread like the warmth of a spark among the bishops.
“We are the people who serve the representatives of the heavenly gods.”
“It’s my mission to spread his word. We shouldn’t bring dirty power struggles here!”
One of the people present unwittingly praised Raphael for first suggesting a proposal to strengthen the document.
“Young people really have a different perspective.”
“That... Was that Bishop Calienda’s acting representative?”
“He has the drive. He’s already noticeable and has the potential to become something big.”
Raphael's argument made them very emotionally satisfied today.
He was a truly wonderful young man. In addition, there was discussion about the ripple effect of the document-reinforcement plan.
“Will this increase the influence of the Holy See?”
“As the credibility of registration becomes more important, wouldn’t the power of the Holy See Document Repository, which manages registration, grow?”
It was fundamentally a happy thing when the organization they were a part of became stronger.
But although they were members of the organization, they were also conservatives due to their age-old religious and scholarly nature.
It was not pleasant to have something change so drastically.
“Well, it’s not necessarily the case. That young man has struck a golden balance. If only we had conducted a full-scale re-investigation of the authenticity of the document from the very beginning...”
The faces of some of the priests turned pale. This was mainly the case with those who were not greedy and worked diligently.
“A corruption scandal is about to break out.”
“Look at this, put this in a new one, oh my, just thinking about it...”
This group actively pushed Raphael's insides.
“I think it’s a really good idea to fix a specific point in time like now and call it ‘the truth from today.’”
“There should never be any room for messing around, that’s for sure.”
These good people did not even consider that the people who made that proposal had already manipulated what needed to be manipulated and eliminated what needed to be eliminated.
“Today is the first year of the Central Continent records!”
An old bishop with a naive scholarly style shouted loudly. He was a man who had neglected politics and failed to get promoted because he was too focused on studying.
“Finally, the records are becoming credible!”
A kind of gentle emotion shared only by the ink spread throughout the room.
If you had asked the people outside, they would have asked you why those people were smiling with such a deeply moved expression.
“I will put it to a vote!”
The powerful voice of Cardinal de Mare, presiding over the proceedings, rang out from within the Basilica of Saint Ercole.
“Please prepare your ballot!”
When Leticia said, "Ask your father about Ippolito's situation," she wasn't just giving a vague answer because it was someone else's business.
She said that because she thought it was the best option.
After several days of Isabella being frustrated and not asking Cardinal de Mare directly, Leticia became furious and asked Isabella why she did not ask her father.
Isabella, annoyed, threw up her pack.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ll take care of it!”
“Aren’t you worried about your brother?!”
Isabella was dumbfounded. She didn't think Leticia had a say.
“He’s my brother, not yours?! Why are you calling me that?”
Leticia was outraged at being told that she was being rude.
“Is that all you can say? After all I’ve done for you!”
Leticia has been a supporting character in Isabella's life so far.
Becoming the leader of the action team and harassing Ariadne, becoming the person in charge of revealing the passionate time with Duke Cesare to everyone, etc.
It was certainly useful in twists and turns, but Isabella did not acknowledge it.
Because none of the things Leticia was involved in had a good outcome. Naturally, she had no gratitude.
“You’re just being yourself. Hey, who are you to worry about brother Ippolito?”
As she said this, Isabella suddenly realized something and opened her eyes wide.
“No, wait. Are you sure you really mean brother Ippolito...”
Isabella had been linking Leticia to Ippolito in various ways, but she didn't really think they would become a couple.
It was simply the easiest way for Ippolito, who had no title, to attend various events by using Leticia as his entry pass.
“Brother Ippolito is...”
Isabella was about to say, “Ippolito is two ranks above you,” but swallowed her words. The basis for her judgment was simple.
It wasn't because Ippolito could boast about something artificial compared to Leticia. It was simply because Leticia was so ugly.
Isabella was a bitch, but she wasn't a reality-unaware bitch.
When dealing with a man, the thing you should never touch is his financial power and sexual ability, and when dealing with a woman, the thing you should never do is degrade her sexual attractiveness.
If she were to say those words now, she would most likely get stabbed.
However, Leticia seemed to have quickly figured out what Isabella was trying to say.
She's always been terrible at listening to people, but she's quick to catch on at times like this.
“This bitch...!”
Leticia, her face flushed, stood up and shouted something incomprehensible.
Half of it was profanity, half was slurred and unintelligible, but her last word was clear.
“You bitch!”
Leticia shouted and ran out of Isabella's drawing room, or, more precisely, Isabella's sister-in-law Clemente's drawing room.
Isabella opened her eyes wide and stared at Leticia's back. It was true, so there was no sense of shock, but it was an absurd situation.
“She... liked brother Ippolito?”
The pain that a woman gave was best healed by a man.
“Does this make sense?”
“I don’t even know the real topic.”
Count Andrea DiPascal chimed in with Isabella from inside the carriage.
Although he objectively found it laughable that the young lady of the Viscountess Letizia de Leonati had such a wild dream, he would have wholeheartedly agreed with Isabella's words even if he had not agreed with them at all.
Only recently had Count DiPascal finally found comfort in speaking to Isabella.
It was touching to hear Isabella's small lips babble human language. It was even more touching to hear his own name come out of her mouth.
“Andrea, I’m so mad!”
Isabella lamented her situation without reserve.
From her perspective, Count Andrea DiPascal was a man chosen purely for his good looks and kindness.
If he were a man chosen for his level of big shot or for his ability to open his pockets, she would have chosen at least a Marquis or higher among the great lords.
If not, Count DiPascal had a job to do for Isabella.
That is, it was like a faithful trash can that held all of her emotional dregs.
“There’s nothing normal about my sister-in-law! Even Clemente’s maid is stupid!”
When the name of his former lover was mentioned, Count DiPascal flinched, but soon regained his composure.
He shouldn't have reacted. He couldn't let a perfect woman like Isabella find out about his sordid past.
“Oh? Is Countess Bartolini’s house uncomfortable?”
“It’s horrible, nothing is right!”
Isabella was furious at Clemente's maid, who had sent her a ducato coin but returned without being able to recruit anyone from the list she had given her.
“Why on earth did she get caught by Nicolo on her way in? She shouldn’t have told him that I sent her! How can she just tell him her rank and name straight there?! Damn it!”
“Do you want to know what happened at home right now?”
“That’s right! Nicolo is really going too far. I’m not trying to sell any land deeds or anything. I’m just trying to find out what happened to my family. Why won’t you let me come near you? I’m not even your daughter?!”
Isabella burst into tears after saying that.
It was so heartbreaking to hear Clemente say something so meaningful when she heard the news at dinner a few days ago.
“...Just my brother?”
It would have been rude to say anything more there.
Ottavio seemed to fully agree, although he could not bring himself to say this or that in front of Count Bartolini for that very reason.
Count Bartolini, who loved his younger sister-in-law Isabella, scolded his wife, and Clemente became so angry that he tried to kill her.
Seeing that made her feel a little better, but it was so hard to be caught in this trap. Nothing good had happened in her life.
As Isabella wept with her pretty face, Count DiPascal put his arm around her shoulder.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry, poor Isabella.”
His eyes were rolled back now, and he couldn't see anything.
“I understand that my wife’s maternal nanny is friendly with your family.”
In order to help Isabella, he could mobilize all his connections that he shouldn't have. Isabella asked in a trembling voice.
“...Who?”
“Luisa? Ruda? Something like that, I think?”
He wasn't sure about his voice. He would have been sure if he had asked his wife, but he was a bit cautious about doing so. It was his last sense of danger.
But the urge to brag was too great. He recalled everything he could remember about his wife's nanny's friendship.
“I heard there was a high-ranking person among your servants? She’s from the south. She’s a bit old. I heard that my wife’s nanny is also from that region... She’s a bit big and has a loud voice...”
“Are you Louisa?!”
It was a familiar name. Count DiPascal's eyes widened at Isabella's call.
“Does this sound right?”
“That’s Butler Nicolo’s wife’s name!”
Isabella cried out in excitement. Count DiPascal also cried out in excitement.
“I think it’s true that my wife’s nanny was the wife of a housekeeper I know!”
Count DiPascal applauded.
“I’ll find out right away. Don’t worry, dear Isabella. Your husband must be an idiot for you to be worrying about something like that.”
He came here today intending to steal Isabella's lips, but decided not to.
It was not a gentlemanly thing to sexually assault a poor little bird who was sobbing. No, of course not.
What the gentleman did was love.
Even without such pressing doctrinal issues, the meeting would not have been possible had Pope Louis XIV not been the absolute ruler who had led the Crusades to success.
The high priests sitting below the podium exchanged opinions among themselves.
“Even without that, it would be too much to just pass the Alemand Law and go back...”
“Right? There wasn’t enough justification.”
Everyone gathered here today probably knew that the introduction of the Alemand amnesty at this council was due to the influence of King Philip of Gallico.
In a way, it was a shameful thing. Someone said something that others could not bring themselves to say.
“The Council is not an institution that serves worldly powers.”
That was the starting point. Pride and elation spread like the warmth of a spark among the bishops.
“We are the people who serve the representatives of the heavenly gods.”
“It’s my mission to spread his word. We shouldn’t bring dirty power struggles here!”
One of the people present unwittingly praised Raphael for first suggesting a proposal to strengthen the document.
“Young people really have a different perspective.”
“That... Was that Bishop Calienda’s acting representative?”
“He has the drive. He’s already noticeable and has the potential to become something big.”
Raphael's argument made them very emotionally satisfied today.
He was a truly wonderful young man. In addition, there was discussion about the ripple effect of the document-reinforcement plan.
“Will this increase the influence of the Holy See?”
“As the credibility of registration becomes more important, wouldn’t the power of the Holy See Document Repository, which manages registration, grow?”
It was fundamentally a happy thing when the organization they were a part of became stronger.
But although they were members of the organization, they were also conservatives due to their age-old religious and scholarly nature.
It was not pleasant to have something change so drastically.
“Well, it’s not necessarily the case. That young man has struck a golden balance. If only we had conducted a full-scale re-investigation of the authenticity of the document from the very beginning...”
The faces of some of the priests turned pale. This was mainly the case with those who were not greedy and worked diligently.
“A corruption scandal is about to break out.”
“Look at this, put this in a new one, oh my, just thinking about it...”
This group actively pushed Raphael's insides.
“I think it’s a really good idea to fix a specific point in time like now and call it ‘the truth from today.’”
“There should never be any room for messing around, that’s for sure.”
These good people did not even consider that the people who made that proposal had already manipulated what needed to be manipulated and eliminated what needed to be eliminated.
“Today is the first year of the Central Continent records!”
An old bishop with a naive scholarly style shouted loudly. He was a man who had neglected politics and failed to get promoted because he was too focused on studying.
“Finally, the records are becoming credible!”
A kind of gentle emotion shared only by the ink spread throughout the room.
If you had asked the people outside, they would have asked you why those people were smiling with such a deeply moved expression.
“I will put it to a vote!”
The powerful voice of Cardinal de Mare, presiding over the proceedings, rang out from within the Basilica of Saint Ercole.
“Please prepare your ballot!”
***
When Leticia said, "Ask your father about Ippolito's situation," she wasn't just giving a vague answer because it was someone else's business.
She said that because she thought it was the best option.
After several days of Isabella being frustrated and not asking Cardinal de Mare directly, Leticia became furious and asked Isabella why she did not ask her father.
Isabella, annoyed, threw up her pack.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ll take care of it!”
“Aren’t you worried about your brother?!”
Isabella was dumbfounded. She didn't think Leticia had a say.
“He’s my brother, not yours?! Why are you calling me that?”
Leticia was outraged at being told that she was being rude.
“Is that all you can say? After all I’ve done for you!”
Leticia has been a supporting character in Isabella's life so far.
Becoming the leader of the action team and harassing Ariadne, becoming the person in charge of revealing the passionate time with Duke Cesare to everyone, etc.
It was certainly useful in twists and turns, but Isabella did not acknowledge it.
Because none of the things Leticia was involved in had a good outcome. Naturally, she had no gratitude.
“You’re just being yourself. Hey, who are you to worry about brother Ippolito?”
As she said this, Isabella suddenly realized something and opened her eyes wide.
“No, wait. Are you sure you really mean brother Ippolito...”
Isabella had been linking Leticia to Ippolito in various ways, but she didn't really think they would become a couple.
It was simply the easiest way for Ippolito, who had no title, to attend various events by using Leticia as his entry pass.
“Brother Ippolito is...”
Isabella was about to say, “Ippolito is two ranks above you,” but swallowed her words. The basis for her judgment was simple.
It wasn't because Ippolito could boast about something artificial compared to Leticia. It was simply because Leticia was so ugly.
Isabella was a bitch, but she wasn't a reality-unaware bitch.
When dealing with a man, the thing you should never touch is his financial power and sexual ability, and when dealing with a woman, the thing you should never do is degrade her sexual attractiveness.
If she were to say those words now, she would most likely get stabbed.
However, Leticia seemed to have quickly figured out what Isabella was trying to say.
She's always been terrible at listening to people, but she's quick to catch on at times like this.
“This bitch...!”
Leticia, her face flushed, stood up and shouted something incomprehensible.
Half of it was profanity, half was slurred and unintelligible, but her last word was clear.
“You bitch!”
Leticia shouted and ran out of Isabella's drawing room, or, more precisely, Isabella's sister-in-law Clemente's drawing room.
Isabella opened her eyes wide and stared at Leticia's back. It was true, so there was no sense of shock, but it was an absurd situation.
“She... liked brother Ippolito?”
***
The pain that a woman gave was best healed by a man.
“Does this make sense?”
“I don’t even know the real topic.”
Count Andrea DiPascal chimed in with Isabella from inside the carriage.
Although he objectively found it laughable that the young lady of the Viscountess Letizia de Leonati had such a wild dream, he would have wholeheartedly agreed with Isabella's words even if he had not agreed with them at all.
Only recently had Count DiPascal finally found comfort in speaking to Isabella.
It was touching to hear Isabella's small lips babble human language. It was even more touching to hear his own name come out of her mouth.
“Andrea, I’m so mad!”
Isabella lamented her situation without reserve.
From her perspective, Count Andrea DiPascal was a man chosen purely for his good looks and kindness.
If he were a man chosen for his level of big shot or for his ability to open his pockets, she would have chosen at least a Marquis or higher among the great lords.
If not, Count DiPascal had a job to do for Isabella.
That is, it was like a faithful trash can that held all of her emotional dregs.
“There’s nothing normal about my sister-in-law! Even Clemente’s maid is stupid!”
When the name of his former lover was mentioned, Count DiPascal flinched, but soon regained his composure.
He shouldn't have reacted. He couldn't let a perfect woman like Isabella find out about his sordid past.
“Oh? Is Countess Bartolini’s house uncomfortable?”
“It’s horrible, nothing is right!”
Isabella was furious at Clemente's maid, who had sent her a ducato coin but returned without being able to recruit anyone from the list she had given her.
“Why on earth did she get caught by Nicolo on her way in? She shouldn’t have told him that I sent her! How can she just tell him her rank and name straight there?! Damn it!”
“Do you want to know what happened at home right now?”
“That’s right! Nicolo is really going too far. I’m not trying to sell any land deeds or anything. I’m just trying to find out what happened to my family. Why won’t you let me come near you? I’m not even your daughter?!”
Isabella burst into tears after saying that.
It was so heartbreaking to hear Clemente say something so meaningful when she heard the news at dinner a few days ago.
“...Just my brother?”
It would have been rude to say anything more there.
Ottavio seemed to fully agree, although he could not bring himself to say this or that in front of Count Bartolini for that very reason.
Count Bartolini, who loved his younger sister-in-law Isabella, scolded his wife, and Clemente became so angry that he tried to kill her.
Seeing that made her feel a little better, but it was so hard to be caught in this trap. Nothing good had happened in her life.
As Isabella wept with her pretty face, Count DiPascal put his arm around her shoulder.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry, poor Isabella.”
His eyes were rolled back now, and he couldn't see anything.
“I understand that my wife’s maternal nanny is friendly with your family.”
In order to help Isabella, he could mobilize all his connections that he shouldn't have. Isabella asked in a trembling voice.
“...Who?”
“Luisa? Ruda? Something like that, I think?”
He wasn't sure about his voice. He would have been sure if he had asked his wife, but he was a bit cautious about doing so. It was his last sense of danger.
But the urge to brag was too great. He recalled everything he could remember about his wife's nanny's friendship.
“I heard there was a high-ranking person among your servants? She’s from the south. She’s a bit old. I heard that my wife’s nanny is also from that region... She’s a bit big and has a loud voice...”
“Are you Louisa?!”
It was a familiar name. Count DiPascal's eyes widened at Isabella's call.
“Does this sound right?”
“That’s Butler Nicolo’s wife’s name!”
Isabella cried out in excitement. Count DiPascal also cried out in excitement.
“I think it’s true that my wife’s nanny was the wife of a housekeeper I know!”
Count DiPascal applauded.
“I’ll find out right away. Don’t worry, dear Isabella. Your husband must be an idiot for you to be worrying about something like that.”
He came here today intending to steal Isabella's lips, but decided not to.
It was not a gentlemanly thing to sexually assault a poor little bird who was sobbing. No, of course not.
What the gentleman did was love.
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