Chapter 26: The Baths
Rafael stormed up the carriage steps, his movements as swift as a gust of wind. His servants ran after him at a trot, their faces filled with suppressed panic and bewilderment.
The carriage started moving as soon as the Pope got in. The servants hurriedly chased after it, forming a comical long line.
Everything that had happened today was too strange. As they ran, they exchanged glances secretly, and then retracted their gazes after seeing each other’s equally confused and surprised expressions.
The servants living in the Papal Palace all had the same instinct for self-preservation. They knew very well that no matter what had happened today, they couldn’t discuss it openly.
Inside the carriage, Rafael revealed a pained expression as soon as the vehicle started moving. He bent down and carefully examined his right leg, from his fragile ankle to his more shattered knee. The kick he had landed on Carlos just now was too strong, and the way of exerting force was a bit awkward. The knee, which already had a serious old injury, began to ache slightly, announcing its existence with an unmistakable sharp pain.
The Pope sighed softly, squeezing out the turbid air in his lungs, calming his overly racing heart before slowly beginning to tidy up his disheveled appearance.
In order to express his anger, he had rushed out without straightening his disheveled clothes or hair. Taking advantage of this little time, he finally pulled out the slightly curled long hair hidden under his cloak. The pale golden strands, looking like a handful of cruelly crushed gold, were roughly pulled out and tossed behind him. His pale purple eyes were devoid of emotion.
Choosing Carlos had been the result of careful consideration. After ‘drunkenly’ walking into the building, he had chosen an empty room and waited quietly. As the banquet progressed, there would inevitably be people who couldn’t resist coming here to have fun. His guess was correct. Gradually, nobles came from the end of the path, and after waiting for a while, he set his eyes on Carlos who was alone.
Looking at his face, there was no impression of him at all. He was just a minor noble without any qualifications to meet the Pope. The family crest on his clothing is very simple. His family roots weren’t deep and wouldn’t cause any turmoil in Florence.