Chapter 485

“First, if we want to draw out Fabiola Orsini, the prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, the best way is to send a letter requesting the beatification under the Caetani family’s name. But with Duke Caetani away, we’ve lost our chance to somehow talk our way into getting a letter sent.”

If Narke, disguised as Duke Caetani of Pisa as originally planned, had suggested to Duke Caetani of Rome that they summon the members of both families for a meeting today to discuss matters concerning the Orsini and foreign affairs, things would have gone smoothly. But now there was no way to persuade the head of the household—with dazzling rhetoric, or at least as much of it as I could manage—to let us send the letter ourselves. It would have been the most satisfactory way to minimize our use of divine power, so it was a shame.

I started speaking off the cuff.

“I think the best way is simply to put the seal on it. How would anyone know that the person staying in Pisa as Duke Caetani came here? You’re going to erase all the servants’ memories before you leave anyway, aren’t you? So the easiest thing would be to just put the seal on a fake letter.”

Gabriele readily nodded.

“I think so too.”

“…….”

I was trying to come up with a clever solution so things wouldn’t become troublesome for him, and he thinks so too? Should I just push ahead and tell him to put the seal on it?

I resisted the temptation.

“…Since you said you’d rather we didn’t do that, let’s think about it a little more. As for meeting the cardinal from the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life… honestly, I don’t know what excuse we could use. Should we write to a cardinal asking to meet because we want to join a religious order? Even if we did, there’s no way a busy cardinal would readily make time for every letter he receives, so we wouldn’t be able to meet him today.”

“Exactly. That’s why we needed the Caetani name. If the cardinals would meet us today just because we gave them some random name, why would we be here at the Caetani residence in the first place?”

Elias spoke in his usual blunt manner. He seemed to be subtly shooting Gabriele a look, as if hoping he would just let us write a fake letter in the Caetani name and stamp it.

I nodded.

“Let’s rule out the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life for now. Since Matteo Orsini isn’t an option either, the only Orsini we can approach is Fabiola Orsini, the prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. But we can’t go around abusing the seal. A third party would be posing as Duke Caetani to meet with the Orsini, and once it comes to light that the security of the Caetani residence was breached and an unknown person impersonated the head of the family to interfere in its diplomatic affairs, the damage to the family’s honor and security will be far greater than you might think. It would also seriously inconvenience Lord Gabriele Caetani. This will inevitably spread to Germany as well, so we might as well keep things as peaceful as possible. Ah, this is why convincing the owner of the house to act of his own accord would’ve been the best option. And of all days, he had to go to Milan today. It’s a shame, even now that I think about it.”

“You’ve mentioned it twice now. I suppose you really are disappointed. It’s interesting that you consider lying to the owner of the house the peaceful option.”

Gabriele said it in the same dry manner. He might think that way, but we certainly didn’t. Compared to the alternatives, this was practically harmless. I turned slightly toward my friends and slapped my left hand down on the table.

“This isn’t something we need to drag out. Let’s think this through.”

“Sure.”

“In short, the key point here is that, for the sake of the family’s honor, the blame cannot fall on the Caetani, while for the sake of security and the repercussions that follow, the blame cannot fall on us. Correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Then it’s simple. We put all the blame on the Orsini.”

For a moment, a flicker of doubt appeared beneath Gabriele’s otherwise indifferent expression. He stared at me for a moment, then relaxed and leaned back against the chair. He had read my thoughts with Insight. Narke had done the same.

I felt a little awkward under four eyes staring intently at me. Having someone read thoughts I hadn’t even revealed was already enough with Narke. I had never expected two people with the same ability to do it at the same time.

Without changing my expression, I stared into empty space and snapped my fingers.

“From this point on, let’s write a letter that the Orsini supposedly ‘sent’ to the Caetani family in an emergency this morning.”

“Oh, that sounds fun.”

I couldn’t help laughing at Elias’s enthusiastic response. I looked at Gabriele and jerked my chin toward the door.

“Lord Gabriele Caetani, gather every piece of correspondence you’ve exchanged with the Orsini so far. And bring us some suitable paper, pens, and ink.”

Gabriele brought over a box without a word and set it down in front of us. He then folded his arms and watched us work. He neither made eye contact with Narke nor spoke to him. He treated Narke as though he didn’t exist in this room. Narke remained silent as well.

It seemed the rift in Gabriele’s feelings toward Narke ran deeper than I had thought. Why did Matteo Orsini follow Narke so devotedly? Why would the Vatican clergy who ran Rome pour such overwhelming attention into Narke’s return if they learned that he had come back to Rome—in other words, why would Rome itself grind to a halt? Why did Gabriele hate Narke so particularly? And why had Ismailov called the two of them brothers…?

I had a hypothesis, but I wasn’t going to take anything as certain just yet. Instead, I opened my mouth.

“Right. Let’s begin.”

So what did we need to do now? Obviously, we had to imitate Orsini’s handwriting. I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that I was barely competent enough to handle my own share of manual work, so I wouldn’t be doing it myself. Then who should I leave it to?

Narke’s handwriting was mature and elegant, but I had no idea whether he was any good at imitating someone else’s. There was one thing I did know.

I dipped the quill in just the right amount of ink and placed it in Elias’s hand.

“Can you do it?”

“Of course!”

Elias took the pen with a click of his tongue. After taking a deep breath, he alternated between looking at Orsini’s letter spread out on his left and the blank practice sheet before asking me, “But have I ever shown you that I can copy someone’s handwriting?”

“Not that I remember. But I feel like you’ll be good at it.”

Elias smiled and began copying Orsini’s handwriting across the practice sheet without hesitation. Then he lifted the sheet and showed us the result. Sunlight caught faintly on the still-wet ink, making the letters glimmer.

“Whoa~”

Narke finally reacted with genuine surprise when he saw the writing. I nodded beside him, equally impressed.

“That’s amazing. It’s different, of course, but… with a little more practice, it’ll be nearly impossible to tell the difference.”

“Hahaha! I knew it. You two really know how to appreciate my talents.”

I gave Elias’s shoulder a pat without saying much. Gabriele, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke up.

“It’s remarkable that you can imitate handwriting you’ve only just seen so well.”

“Well, you have to be able to forge documents if you want to break into the Imperial Palace archives and keep Federal Council members from attending the assembly on the day of a vote, don’t you?”

“Then why didn’t you imitate Duke Caetani’s handwriting?”

“How am I supposed to know what the duke’s handwriting looks like? Or that of his personal scribe? Either way, to get a sample, wouldn’t we still have to break into your estate, and into one of the important rooms where you keep your letters? Besides… it takes more than a day to imitate someone’s handwriting perfectly.”

Gabriele nodded as though he had expected that. Elias’s words were true. He had practiced the Emperor’s handwriting relentlessly since he was young—even though his small, clumsy hands back then could hardly keep up with his determination. At the time, he had thought that if he could freely circulate the Emperor’s edicts, perhaps he could give himself and his father a little more freedom. He had never actually forged an imperial edict, but in the novel I’d read, he had forged all sorts of documents whenever the opportunity arose. And now, right before my eyes, his skill was finally proving useful for the first time in any real sense.

Fortunately, Elias knew very well that a long tail would eventually get caught, so he didn’t forge documents over trivial matters and instead went along with the way things were. If we hadn’t had such a difficult time getting to Rome today, he probably wouldn’t have tried to imitate Orsini’s handwriting either.

After that, Elias spent nearly an hour filling page after page with writing without taking a break. He’d said he just needed a little more practice, but since it was someone else’s handwriting, it still took practice to get rid of the lingering awkwardness. Narke quietly looked over his writing from beside him and offered some advice.

“The end of the D should come up a little sharper.”

“But it still looks similar, right?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing.”

Narke answered with a smile. It seemed like his imitation was getting convincing enough, so I cleared my throat and said, “All right, let’s start. I’ll dictate it, so write it down on the practice paper first.”

“Wait, Luka! What about the envelope?”

“We don’t need it.”

I gently rolled up a long strip of off-white paper, cut to a suitable height, then unrolled it and wrapped it around the end of a thin pen shaft, pressing it down with my hand. Elias’s eyes widened when he saw the paper tied around the end of the pen.

“Ah. Don’t tell me…”

“Yeah, that’s it. Exactly what you’re thinking. Lord Gabriele Caetani, what is the name of the Caetani cardinal being considered for beatification?”

“Elda Caetani.”

“Good. Then who knows that ‘Duke Caetani of Rome’ is not in Milan right now, but in this building?”

“The lower-ranking servants. I came in disguised as someone else right after the duke left for Milan and pretended to be the duke. I told them I’d be leaving again shortly.”

“But you didn’t leave shortly after all. It’s about time, so please erase those people’s memories completely.”

Gabriele nodded and rose from his seat. I turned toward Elias.

“Eli, I’ll dictate. ‘To His Grace Duke Caetani, my dearest regards. His Holiness the Pope has rejected the beatification of the late Cardinal Elda Caetani.’”

The moment the words ‘His Holiness the Pope’ came out of my mouth, Gabriele Caetani turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“Lord Longhi.”

Matthias Longhi, a distant branch of the Longhi family and the Chief Seneschal of the House of Caetani, lowered his glasses slightly. One of his subordinates entered the room and handed him a note rolled up to about the width of a finger, his face pale.

“Servants at the observatory received this letter from the Orsini by carrier pigeon and brought it here. The contents are rather serious. You should read it.”

Longhi unfolded the letter and froze. Of all times, the Orsini had chosen to deliver such shocking news while His Grace was away.

‘His Holiness rejected Cardinal Elda Caetani’s beatification?’

The Duke had gone to such lengths to have his ancestor beatified. No—before even getting to that, they hadn’t even received word from Fabiola Orsini, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, that the review of whether Cardinal Elda Caetani was suitable for beatification had been completed.

And it hadn’t even been stopped at Prefect Fabiola Orsini’s level. His Holiness himself had rejected Cardinal Elda Caetani’s beatification by his own authority? How? Why? Was this paltry result what they had gotten after waiting more than a month for the beatification of their ancestor?

Longhi quickly gathered his outer coat and adjusted his glasses. He had to request an audience with the Pope.

There might have been some mistake in the way the message had been passed along. Even if it was true that His Holiness had said this, and even if His Holiness refused to see him right away, Longhi had to meet with one of the Pope’s close aides, hear enough to explain the situation to His Grace, and make the Caetani family’s position known.

That was his duty as Chief Seneschal.

‘Then what does His Eminence Cardinal Fabiola Orsini think about Cardinal Elda Caetani’s beatification?’

He needed to find out whether he thought His Holiness had exercised excessive authority too soon, or whether he shared His Holiness’s opinion. If it was the former, they could try joining forces with Cardinal Fabiola Orsini. If it was the latter, then before confronting the Pope, they would first have to change the mind of Orsini, one of His Holiness’s close aides.

Even if they did not begin serious negotiations right away, it was only right to understand the situation before His Grace returned.

Longhi took out a piece of paper cut for carrier-pigeon messages and wrote a letter saying that he was heading there immediately. On another letter, he briefly described the contents of the note he had just received to Duke Caetani, who was currently in Milan, and wrote that he would investigate the matter in detail. He took both letters and headed down to the communication post inside the mansion, where the carrier pigeons were kept.

Less than twenty minutes later, Longhi set out for the Orsini family’s residence with several of his aides. Since he was making an unannounced visit, he refrained from warping there and took a carriage instead, out of basic courtesy. But since they were already in the same part of the city, it wasn’t long before he arrived.

The Orsini had several residences, but Longhi arrived at the one where the family’s most important members lived. He gave the guard stationed outside the Orsini residence in Monterotondo a nod and spoke.

“I have come on behalf of Duke Caetani. It concerns an order from His Holiness.”

The guard recognized Longhi and stepped aside with a bow. Once inside the foyer, Longhi explained the situation to the attendant who came to receive him. Before long, Longhi and the Caetani aides were ushered into the office of the Orsini heir.

It was hardly a pleasant subject, so there was no reason to waste time on small talk. After exchanging brief greetings, they got straight to the matter at hand.

Annunziata Orsini, the eldest child and heir of the Orsini family, was a middle-aged mage. Whether he was truly as serious as he appeared, Longhi couldn’t tell, but Annunziata read the note with a grave expression before shaking his head.

“As you know, the Papal See is under lockdown, so the only way for us to meet any of the clergy inside is to enter ourselves. But even getting that far is difficult. They are reluctant to let anyone in unless absolutely necessary. And the inspection itself is quite insulting. What right do they have to make me empty everything from my pockets and leave it outside? I was rather taken aback by the way they treated me, as though I were some beggar living in a ghetto.”

“What does that have to do with this note? We want to hear House Orsini’s position on this matter.”

“First of all, we have no way of knowing when His Holiness supposedly said this. The Papal See even purifies every carrier pigeon with divine power before allowing it through, and they inspect every written message, so they generally neither let information out nor allow it in. I believe there must have been some mistake. Even if it came from His Holiness himself, it would be absurd to prohibit the beatification preemptively when the Sacred Congregation of Rites has not even sent the documents to the Apostolic See yet. And besides, the late Cardinal Elda Caetani spent his entire life doing everything in his power to help hundreds of wounded Catholic children live under God’s grace. Why would His Holiness prohibit his beatification?”

“That is precisely what I am saying, Your Excellency. We Caetani cannot accept this decision.”

“I agree. If this is true, then His Holiness must have had some personal grudge against Cardinal Elda Caetani. We cannot accept His Holiness’s decision on such a personal matter, either… Rest assured. We will do everything we can to help. But one thing is certain: this was not sent by any of us Orsini.”

“Is that so? But as I recall, the handwriting is identical to that of His Grace Duke Orsini.”

“That…”

Annunziata Orsini narrowed his eyes, looking as though even thinking about it was tiring, then pulled down his lips.

“I can only say it was a coincidence. As far as I can tell, they are by no means identical, merely similar. His Grace the Duke has been ill recently and has not been taking part in affairs of state. He is still asleep, recovering from his illness.”

“Then is it possible that this letter was sent from another Orsini residence…?”

“I cannot say for certain, but I doubt it. As you know, the Orsini living at our other residences are not in positions where they would hear news from the Papal See.”

“I suppose we will have to look into it, at least.”

“Well, do as you see fit. I cannot say for certain whether this was truly correspondence from one of the Orsini, but since our name was involved, I am troubled that something so concerning has happened to House Caetani. We will also make inquiries to see if anyone who obtained this news in advance sent a message to Caetani.”

— [Nothing unusual. That Annunziata-or-whatever guy did send letters to the other Orsini asking whether they’d received any news from the Papal See about the beatification, but that’s all.]

Elias’s voice came through the artifact we had shared just before parting.

We didn’t take a carriage. Narke was not inexperienced at controlling his power, as Gabriele had suggested—if anything, the opposite was true. We decided to travel with him, but in case anything went wrong, Elias and I would take the lead whenever we had to enter the same space as powerful mages.

As soon as Chief Seneschal Longhi left the Caetani residence, the three of us warped, under Narke’s direction, to a road near the Orsini residence in Monterotondo. After waiting there for a while, we were able to spot Chief Seneschal Longhi and his attendants arriving by carriage.

It helped that the people working as guards at the residence were generally not particularly powerful mages, and that, quite naturally, the main gate opened on both sides. We cast concealment on Elias and had him follow behind Chief Seneschal Longhi and his attendants.

There would be powerful mages moving around inside, so we could not get as far as the study where Annunziata Orsini was. Instead, we sent Elias to the mailroom—the residence’s post office, where all correspondence arriving at the residence was received and all outgoing letters were sent.

Elias would stay in the mailroom until we gave him the signal to leave. The reason was simple: if the news eventually spread among the Orsini family, one of them might sense that something was wrong and try to dig up information that would reassure themselves of their own safety. As we could tell from everything that had happened so far and Einsiedel’s testimony, the traitor within the Papal See wasn’t exactly a particularly bold person. If he realized that his family had a way to contact the Papal See, he would likely scrutinize the situation carefully and weigh his options. The culprit would be either an Orsini who later sent a letter to the Monterotondo residence asking questions, or someone at the Monterotondo residence who secretly sent a letter outside.

Only when we gave him the signal would Elias leave the mailroom and wait near the back entrance. When guests came and went, he would run out of the residence at full speed. We had no way of knowing when someone would come or go, so he might have to wait there for quite a while, but there was nothing we could do about it. In truth, there was no need to worry about Elias escaping. Narke and I simply had to do our part.

I whispered, “There wasn’t any cipher worth trying to crack?”

— [Nope. It’s only one sentence. And the carrier pigeon cages are packed, too.]

Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, the fact that Annunziata Orsini hadn’t sent any warning to the other Orsini meant he had absolutely nothing to do with the Papal See’s spy. I crossed his name off the list in my head.

“Stay there and make sure you don’t get caught.”

— [Ah~ This is difficult.]

Elias answered in his usual unhurried, teasing tone. Meanwhile, Narke wrapped a hand around my wrist and warped us somewhere else.

Rome had the Theatre of Marcellus. The ancient semicircular theater, shaped somewhat like the Colosseum, was being used as an Orsini residence. You might wonder how anyone could possibly live in a theater, but they had expanded it by adding Renaissance-style buildings behind the ancient two-tiered arcade. Savelli, the theater’s former owner, and the current owners, the Orsini, may have wanted to grasp the hazy dust and sunset that once drifted through ancient Rome, but it scattered instead beneath the rear walls that had never quite escaped the influence of medieval fortress architecture—not nearly as dramatically as the people of the Renaissance might have imagined such a transformation.

An unpleasant sense of wonder rose from the incongruity between antiquity and the modern age. It wasn’t the kind of wonder that came from beauty or aesthetics. It was the shock of realizing, for the first time, that architecture could lay bare human greed so plainly.

Before long, a Caetani carriage pulled up in front of the theater. I cast concealment on myself and followed Chief Seneschal Longhi inside. Narke dropped himself down in the park outside the theater instead of keeping concealment active, taking on someone else’s appearance. If we were going to wait for a long time, keeping concealment active would actually make him more likely to be discovered.

The interior of the residence was more ordinary than the exterior. I followed quietly, holding my breath. So far, everyone we had encountered inside the residence had been Old Humans. This time, I decided to wait near the study so I could watch the expression of the Orsini living in this building when the door opened. It was rare, but he might have a private warp mailbox, so I also needed to get a good look at the layout of the rooms.

If there was no one here who had been in contact with the Vatican spy, that meant the culprit had broken through the Vatican’s surveillance entirely on his own and sent the mail to France. He hadn’t passed the information safely through a member of his own family first. Even if communicating with family members was permitted, sending a letter directly to France was an enormous risk. So, ideally, the culprit had to come from this building. Otherwise, we would have to go looking for the condottiero who had left Rome.

Chief Seneschal Longhi entered the study. I leaned against the wall at the end of the corridor. How much time had passed? I stared at the door, listening to the sounds of wind and everyday life transmitted by Narke and Elias. Then I heard something being grabbed, followed by a human voice close by.

— [Your Eminence?]

For a moment, my mind went blank at the unfamiliar voice coming through the artifact. Your Eminence? How? Now… Even as the unfamiliar pronunciation faded and the silence stretched by a moment, I instinctively knew who it was. Tens of thousands of thoughts swept through my mind. I needed a way out of this. The risks and worst possible outcomes flashed through my head, and I came to one conclusion. Even so, there was no other choice.

I cast soundproofing and shouted, “Narke, give me the coordinates of your location!”