The Reversed Hierophant
Chapter 7: Meeting in the Library

Julius withdrew his hand, pulling down Rafael’s robe to cover his legs. He placed a warm leather waterbag on his knees and finally covered him with the silver ermine blanket.

Rafael watched him slowly turn down his rolled-up sleeves and smooth out the wrinkles on his clothes. When he was done, the Portia Patriarch picked up the cane that was leaning against the table.

“Empty assumptions are meaningless fantasies.” Julius did not make any definitive denials or promises, but said matter-of-factly, “What kind of answer do you want from me? That I will never betray you? That I will always be loyal to you?”

He suddenly smiled, and his tone became softer than ever before.

“Rafa, you are my student. I taught you politics, history, literature, how to seize the greatest benefits in a struggle… and I also taught you to trust no one.”

Julius looked at the young Pope with a complicated expression, and his voice was as soft as a feather brushing past: “Have you forgotten?”

Such a cold yet realistic warning was almost equivalent to declaring that he was not entirely loyal to Rafael, but this answer, paradoxically, made Rafael feel much more relaxed.

When someone truly wanted to betray, they wouldn’t be so blatant. Julius would certainly use sweet words to seduce his prey. This lord, who had grown up in the intricate intrigues of a great family, had a habit of resorting to any means necessary. Because of this, Rafael was certain that, at least for now, Julius had no intention of harming him.

To people like them, a hurtful truth was far more beautiful than a moving lie.

Julius didn’t leave. Leaning against the edge of the oak table, he caught sight of the parchment under Rafael’s hand.

It was a funding approval request initiated by the Florence City Guard, asking the Pope to settle the unpaid salaries dating back to the reign of Pope Leo VI, totaling 1,260 gold florins.

This amount was a mere drop in the bucket for the Papacy, but this application shouldn’t have appeared here.

The Florence City Guard was directly under the jurisdiction of the Gonfaloniere of Justice¹ and was responsible for the security of the entire city. Their salaries were paid by the Florence Administrative Office. The Pope actually ruled over the entire Papal States and Florence, but nominally, he could only be the leader of faith and religion. These secular matters were handled by the Administrative Office and should not have been presented to the Pope at all.

It was like the minister of spiritual and cultural affairs suddenly receiving an application from a clerk in the finance department. Not only did he replace the wrong superior, he had also crossed several levels of authority.

Julius knew the Captain of the Florence City Guard. He was the son of a minor noble family. He had invested a great deal of money and effort to obtain this lucrative position. Similarly, he was also a smooth and flexible person, otherwise he would not have been able to stay in this position that was easy to offend people for several years.

Such a person would never make such a low-level mistake.

Since it wasn’t a mistake, it must have been intentional.

They were testing the new pope.

Julius thought for a moment and realized which families might be behind this. His eyes darkened slightly.

“They’re targeting Portia,” Julius took the parchment from Rafael’s and read it from beginning to end. “I will handle this matter. The Portia Bank will send 50,000 gold florins to the Papal Palace. You can use this money as you see fit. Afterwards, the bills from the Papal Palace will be sent to the Rhine Palace–“

The Duke of Rhine paused, took off the signet ring from his right thumb and placed it on the table, bent his knuckles and pushed it towards Rafael: “If I’m not around, you can use this to sign the bill at Portia Bank first.”

Rafael lowered his eyes to look at the ring. The bronze ring surface was adorned with intricate patterns, a variation of the Portia’s sword and staff emblem. At the top was a crown shaped by water droplets – symbolizing that the bearer of this ring was the head of the Portia family. Countless people would have fought for this ring, but now it was casually placed in front of him.

——A scene similar to his previous life.

In his previous life, the salary approval application for the Florence City Guard had also been placed on his desk. He had trusted Julius immensely at that time, so he had asked Julius about the relevant matters. The patriarch of Portia had said exactly the same thing, taking full responsibility for solving all his problems and promising to bear all the future expenses of the Papal Palace.

He wasn’t lying. After Rafael handed over the financial authority of the Papal Palace to him, the Secretary General of the Papal Office solved all his problems perfectly. Rafael never worried about money, and similar malicious probes never appeared in front of him again.

There was only one difference: Julius in his previous life had never taken off his ring and given it to him.

The things behind this ring were enough to make anyone covetous. The Portia Bank, which spanned half a continent and controlled the economic lifelines of several countries, only recognized this signet ring. Members of the Portia family were willing to give up everything they had to obtain this ring, yet the true owner handed it over to another person so lightly.

The process was almost casual.

Rafael stared at the signet ring for a moment. During this time, Julius was also carefully examining his student, his eyes full of inquiry.

Both men, each with their own thoughts, remained silent. Finally, Rafael also reached out his hand, but instead of picking up the ring that symbolized authority and immense wealth, he gently pushed it away — the posture was exactly the same as Julius.

“No need,” he said softly, collecting all his emotions. “Thank you very much for your sponsorship, but the Papal Palace will soon have income. The current difficulties are only temporary—as long as this month passes.”

“If that bothers you, then 50,000 gold florins will be enough.”

Rafael continued.

He wasn’t a fool. Why would he refuse free money? But it’s the same principle: there are free pies in the world, but there’s never a free grand feast.

Fifty thousand gold florins was neither too much nor too little, just enough to help the Papal Palace overcome its current difficulties and get rid of the prying eyes caused by Portia. Any more, and it would be too much.

As the Pope supported by the Portia family, it was understandable that people with ulterior motives would try to test Portia by probing him. But if the Papal Palace was tied to Portia – just like in his previous life, he would completely become Julius’s puppet.

He might even become Portia’s target.

And he might die a meaningless death.

Rafael’s fingers stroked the ermine blanket on his knees which had been warmed by the water bag. The soft touch calmed him down a lot.

His refusal obviously caught Julius off guard. For a moment he even bent down slightly, wanting to get a closer look at Rafael’s expression.

“What did you say?” Julius’ voice was so soft that Rafael could hardly hear it.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” Julius looked at the young Pope. The golden long hair of the other seemed to be enveloped in a thin layer of light, a clear and hazy lustre that embraced Rafael, making him as holy as the legendary archangel with the same name.

“I know very well.” Rafael did not avoid his scrutiny.

Rejecting the goodwill and help of the Portias at a time when things were still unstable was equivalent to facing all the malice and temptation alone – the enemies of the Portia family would gather around like hyenas smelling blood.

He would no longer have Julius’s meticulous protection, nor would he have the leisurely and comfortable life he had in his previous life.

But if the ending was such a tragic death, what was the point of a beautiful journey?

The determination in Rafael’s eyes made Julius purse his lips. The patriarch of the Portia family felt as if he could no longer understand his student since the day Rafael took the throne – he had been away from him for just a day! The dependence and trust in Rafael’s eyes had completely turned into a thick, impenetrable defense, and this unknown change made Julius deeply irritated. He couldn’t replace the source of this change, nor did he know how to get everything back on track.

Julius’s life in the past had been smooth sailing. His talent and background were enough to get him everything he wanted. But facing Rafael, he suddenly found that all his previous methods were useless.

He couldn’t use force against the noble Pope, nor could he buy the answers he wanted with money, nor could he speak ill of his student.

Such a dilemma was unprecedented in his life.

Julius stood up abruptly, his lips pressed into a thin line, while his deep purple eyes darkened. He turned his ebony and silver-inlaid cane, its tip pressing deeply into the carpet. In the silent confrontation, the Portia Patriarch said nothing, throwing the parchment back on the table, before turning around and leaving.

Rafael silently exhaled and summoned the deacon, placing the untouched signet ring in a box and handing it to the deacon: “Give it to Julius in person and have him sign for it.”

The deacon bowed respectfully, took the box and left.

Rafael, sitting alone behind the desk, remained motionless in that position for a long time. He slowly lowered his head and began to deal with other documents without any change in expression, as if the person who had just uttered words that severed ties with his mentor was not him.

Signing his name, Rafael looked at the next document and paused for a moment.

It was a list of members for the Papal Guard and the captain’s appointment letter.

The Papal Guard belonged only to the Pope himself and existed solely to protect the Pope. They were only loyal to the position of ‘Pope’ rather than the Pope himself. Every captain of the Papal Guard had to be personally appointed by the Pope himself and swear allegiance to the Pope, even if it was just a formality.

The name of the captain of the Papal Guard had been written on the document in sharp, slender letters: Bonn Tillet. In his previous life, he had also served as the captain of Rafael’s Papal Guard. He could be considered loyal and dutiful. During the time he guarded the Pope, there had never been any incidents in the Papal Palace.

A man who could be trusted, if Rafael hadn’t died so quietly.

The Pope had been murdered, and there was no guard on duty outside the door. Whether he truly didn’t know or was involved, Bonn Tillet could no longer be trusted.

Rafael crossed out Bonn Tillet’s name without any hesitation.

But who to appoint…

Rafael suddenly realized that he couldn’t think of a person worthy of entrusting his life to.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly and threw down his quill. There was no need to rush. Rather than hastily selecting a new captain, it would be better to simply choose a new batch of members from various churches to join the Papal Guard. At least, he could ensure that some people would be loyal to him.

The next day, the financial officer from the Bank of Portia arrived with a thick stack of documents. A total of 50,000 gold florins were transported by carriage into the Papal Palace’s treasury, temporarily alleviating Rafael’s financial difficulties. However, this was only temporary; with so many expenses for the Pope, money never stayed for long.

The Papal Palace was once again filled with luxurious decorations. Servants and priests moved silently to and fro. Unlike the courts of secular monarchs, there were rarely any brightly dressed women to be seen here. People primarily dressed in black monastic robes, holding short wooden plaques adorned with thorn motifs, as they came and went. Occasionally, there would be bishops in purple robes and cardinals in red, but as for white and gold… that signified that the master of this palace had rarely come out.

Of course, nuns would also come in and out. They followed the church rules, wearing solemn black clothes and triangular hats connected to long white head coverings, serving as “exemplars of pure women” in the Holy Father’s residence.

So, when a bright and lively sapphire blue appeared in this uniform sea of black and white, even the most ascetic monks couldn’t help but turn their gaze towards it.

Princess Sancha, under the guidance of a nun, was touring the artworks in the Papal Palace gallery. These magnificent oil paintings were priceless treasures of the Church, and even Sancha, who was accustomed to fine things, couldn’t help but stop and admire them.

“The Holy Father is waiting for you in the library.” Another deacon approached Sancha and whispered softly.

Princess Sancha turned around, reluctantly tearing her gaze away from the painting “Raphael Before the Flood”, nodded politely, and then, under the guidance of the nun, took a detour, passing through the garden, the sun room, the reliquary, and the fountain, before arriving at a separate two-story building.

Although it was called a “Library”, it was more than just one room. The Holy See’s collection of books was enormous, dating back to stone tablets with carved letters when writing was just invented. The Papal Palace library houses the crème de la crème of the Holy See’s collection of books for the Pope to read in his spare time.

This “library” was two stories high. Instead of the conventional rectangular bookshelves lining the walls, the shelves here were arranged in a unique spiral shape that rose from the center of the building, creating a dense, towering helix of books reaching all the way to the dome. A staircase winds its way alongside the bookshelves, allowing easy access to any book.

The surrounding walls were predominantly made of glass, ensuring optimal natural light at all times. Outside, a fountain was gently burbling, creating a serene atmosphere, which was enough to make people imagine how pleasant it would be to read here.

Several nuns were adjusting the flower arrangements in the marble vases. Freshly picked lilacs, lavender, and wormwood leaves still glistened with dew. A monk walked around the room, carrying a censer to ward off insects. The library placed a great emphasis on pest control and moisture prevention, which meant that most incense could not be used here. Some poorly tanned animal skins emitted an unpleasant odor, so they had to rely on this method to mask the smell.

Upon seeing the visitor, the monks and nuns quickly finished their tasks and bowed to Princess Sancha before exiting the library one by one. The nun who had accompanied Sancha returned with a tray containing gloves, a magnifying glass, a page turner, and a copper bell for summoning servants. She placed the tray on a nearby wooden table and bowed before leaving.

Only the faint scent of incense remained in the library, accompanied by the sound of the fountain from outside. Princess Sancha curiously walked around the magnificent, towering bookshelf for a while until a young man’s voice called out from a distance, “Good day, Your Highness. You can read the books here at will.”

Sancha followed the sound and found the young Pope sitting on the stairs near the dome, his elbows resting on the stained glass window, his feet dangling in the air. Below him was a void seven or eight meters high. If he were to fall, the consequences would be disastrous.

But the young Pope seemed completely unconcerned about his safety. He was not wearing the ornate robes Sancha had seen on him on the day of his coronation. A simple white robe with gold edging trailed down the stairs, its hem like drooping wings, fluttering in the wind at his feet. His long golden hair cascaded down his back, and the sunlight filtering through the window cast a fragrant halo around his profile. His beauty was almost unreal, like an elf who had stepped out of a forest painting.

Sancha’s heart skipped a beat.

Oh, great Queen Amandra of Assyria… it seems that she’s truly fallen in love. Should we have the Assyrian cavalry attack the Papal States now and snatch the Pope away?

Translator’s Note

1 Gonfaloniere of Justice – In Florence the gonfaloniers originated during the 1250s as commanders of the people’s militia. In the 1280s a new office called the gonfalonier of justice was instituted to protect the interests of the people against the dominant magnate class. The holder of this office subsequently became the most prominent member of the Signoria (supreme executive council of Florence) and formal head of the civil administration.