The Reversed Hierophant

Chapter 84: The Banquet

Belem was a small city, situated on a turbulent border, and nobles were unwilling to live there. Apart from the local gentry and a few minor lords, it was impossible to find gentlemen of sufficient status to act as escorts for guests. Hosting the kind of luxurious, fashionable, high-society banquets seen in the capital was completely out of the question, and Anthony, a connoisseur of pleasure, knew this very well.

Rather than forcing the crude, uncultured daughters of those gentry and minor lords into elegant, sophisticated gowns and making them to pretend to be noble ladies, it was better to embrace vulgarity entirely. After all, every banquet was meant to please people, and Anthony… he knew very well what men liked.

So, he simply dispatched every carriage from the Town Hall to round up all the known courtesans in Belem.

He sent them jewels and exquisite clothes, instructing them to imitate the attire of noble ladies in Dudley, staging a medieval Calais version of role-playing.

He believed the officers would love this: the elegant appearance of noble ladies coupled with the soul of debauched courtesans. This would give them a sense of conquest, a perverse pleasure that men enjoyed in such games.

The first carriage stopped in front of the Town Hall. A woman in a goose-yellow silk gown stepped out, affectedly fanning herself twice with a feather fan. After peering around the entrance for a moment, the attendants immediately stepped forward, respectfully offering their arms. The lady, feeling both novelty and nervousness, placed her hand on one, raised her chin haughtily, and was guided into the hall under their direction.

Carriages converged from all directions. The ladies, colorful as butterflies, lightly flitted into the meticulously decorated hall. Anthony stood concealed on the second floor, watching as the crowd below grew. The orchestra played lively music at the appropriate moment, and the carefully selected, beauties unabashedly released their charm. Although their guests had not yet arrived, out of professional instinct, facing so many competitors in the same industry, they were already consciously beginning to show off their advantages.

Anthony watched the atmosphere below gradually heat up with satisfaction, then turned his head again to ask, “Where are our guests?”

Before his voice faded, alongside the rumble of carriage wheels, came the urgent sound of several galloping horses from outside.

“Ah, it’s our honored guests for tonight! Have the ladies prepare themselves!” Anthony’s spirit lifted. He hastily straightened his coat tails, adjusted his tie, stretched his neck, and ran down the stairs with a briskness completely disproportionate to his bulk, his belly preceding him.As he rushed out the door with a carefully maintained dignified demeanor, he saw the leading knight dismounting from his horse.

The man had a long, fluffy mane of hair like sheep’s wool. His features were delicate and gentle, and his light brown eyes were kind, almost soft. Paired with his smiling face, he looked like someone anyone could easily bully.

Anthony was stunned. He felt this person looked familiar, but for a moment he couldn’t exactly recall where he had seen him. So, he stood there hesitantly: “My lord…”

The knight was wearing a Guard’s officer uniform, with a gold medal pinned to his chest. He folded his riding crop, tapping the side of his cowhide long boots with the wooden handle to knock off the dust and mud, and smiled at Anthony. “Good evening, Mayor. I am the new officer in charge of the Guard, freshly transferred from Dudley. His Majesty hopes to find the person as soon as possible, so he dispatched more personnel. I am temporarily in charge of the search in Belem.”

Anthony was still a bit confused, secretly regretting that the money he had spent on the previous officer was wasted when the man left before he saw any results. However, this was not the time for that thought. He quickly stepped forward, smiling genially. “It seems His Majesty is truly very concerned about his ‘Queen.’ Will that person really appear in Belem?”

The knight paused, as if suddenly delighted, and nodded solemnly. “You are right. Actually, I’m not entirely sure either, so until we find them, we won’t lift the blockade.”

Anthony leaned closer. The mayor found this young officer very amiable and seemingly approachable. If he could build a good relationship with him, he might have a better chance of returning to Dudley later. Thus, the smile on his face became much more sincere: “Regardless, before completing His Majesty’s mission, you can certainly relax a little. Today, I have prepared a unique banquet for you. Even in Dudley, you would absolutely never see such an interesting party.”

He meaningfully emphasised the word “interesting,” deliberately winking at the officer. A portly man with a large belly making such an expression was somewhat frightening. Surprisingly, the officer maintained a kindly smile throughout, as if such a scene was nothing in his eyes.

“Then I shall look forward to it.” The Guard Captain cooperated with a smile, his light brown eyes curving. In the bright light of the gas lamp, his pupils had a unique color, like amber gold.

“The Town Hall is holding a banquet tonight,” Rafael sat at the table, stirring the mashed potatoes on his plate with a fork, his gaze through the window resting on the bustling marketplace below. “The landlady told me it’s being held to entertain the Captain of the Guards. The Mayor of Belem will obviously be there. To get into the Town Hall and obtain the mayor’s seal, this is the only opportunity.”

Leshert sat on the edge of the bed, holding a cup of hot milk, thinking with difficulty. “…How am I supposed to infiltrate it?”

Rafael looked at him and shook his head: “Not you, me.”

Leshert’s expression instantly tightened.

The Pope ignored the Knight Commander’s instantly sinking face and continued: “The landlady said many of Belem’s courtesans have received invitations to the banquet. This indirectly became an opportunity for intermediaries to prove their capabilities. That’s why she told me this news—she hopes to act as my introducer so I can attend this banquet.”

“Absolutely not!” Leshert blurted out.

The upright Knight Commander’s face turned ashen. “You are the esteemed Holy See of Florence! How can you—how can you, in that capacity…”

Rafael cut him off: “If this seal cannot be obtained, whether it’s the Holy See or anything else, it will quietly disappear in Calais.”

His pale violet eyes looked at Leshert without any emotion; the look hard and cold. After meeting that gaze, Leshert flinched, then slowly lowered his head. “…As you command, Your Holiness.”

“Good. You can pretend to be my coachman then.” Rafael withdrew his gaze, scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, and struggled to swallow the mixture containing who-knows-what. He muttered to himself, “At least I won’t have to eat this tonight.”

As the sun was about to set, a light, single-horse carriage passed through the crowded market stalls and stopped in front of the shabby inn. The carriage was simply decorated, equipped with shock-absorbing spring chassis, and the steps and carriage body were high—designed to prevent water from entering the compartment on rainy days. The Belem Town Hall crest was branded onto the body of the carriage.

The shop to the left of the inn sold leather goods, the strong stench of tanning making the horse uncomfortable. It threw its head up and snorted, calmed down only after the coachman pulled the reins twice. The docile animal lowered its head, sniffing repeatedly.

The large window of the inn facing outward always had mulled mead warming on the stove year-round. The blackened red copper pot was as thick as a child’s waist, puffing steam and making the lid jiggle. The attendant minding the pot stood up, staring blankly at the carriage.

“I’m here to pick up—” The coachman paused, retrieving the name from memory. “—Miss Eulalia. And these are things prepared by the Mayor for Miss Eulalia here.”

He turned and pulled a leather case from the carriage compartment, intending to hand it to the attendant.

The attendant took the case, secretly surprised by its weight, and began guessing its contents.

“It’s clothes and jewelry,” the coachman saw his thoughts and said with a grin. “I saw one of these boxes on every carriage. You know, we’re picking up the ladies, and they might need something better, clothes more suitable for the Town Hall.”

Here, the coachman adopted an arrogant expression, befitting a member of the “Town Hall” staff.

The attendant carefully carried the trunk into the inn. The coachman soon heard a middle-aged woman’s joyful scream from inside, followed by the thumping sound of heavy footsteps on the floorboards.

“Just a courtesan, hmph,” the coachman muttered to himself.

After more than half an hour, a light-footed lady emerged, wrapped in a large black cloak that covered her head and face. She kept her head down, her features obscured. She wore an amber-colored gown, its full, voluminous skirt cascading like a waterfall. A large decoration made of organza was attached to her lower back, an embellishment meant to shape the silhouette and emphasize the curves—clearly quite striking. Although her legs were completely hidden, her excellent figure was evident from her proportions alone.

Before the coachman could even get down, the lady had already stepped onto the simple footstep on the side of the carriage and slipped inside with a whoosh. After a moment, a hand wearing a long silk glove reached out from within, calmly pulling the entire voluminous skirt that was hanging outside the compartment back in.

This series of actions was dazzlingly fast. Before the coachman could react, a light tapping sound came from the iron carriage wall: “Please depart.”

The coachman cracked his whip, urging the horse forward. At the same time, he thought to himself that although she looked to have a good figure, was this lady’s voice perhaps a little… too deep?

Inside the carriage, Rafael sat bolt upright, trying to create some breathing space. After all, he was a man. No matter how slender, fitting into a lady’s gown was somewhat difficult. Fortunately, the dress wasn’t shoulder-binding, but precisely because of that, he had to stuff some auxiliary padding into his chest to avoid immediate exposure.

Rafael closed his eyes, maintaining steady breathing. He felt the carriage suddenly stop, and the coachman’s puzzled voice came from outside. After a while, the carriage started again, this time moving much more steadily.

Before darkness fully fell, Rafael arrived at the town hall. Servants were lighting the gas lamps everywhere. He took off his cloak, using his hair to cover his face as much as possible, and discreetly entered the hall along the corridor, quickly finding the most inconspicuous corner.

The orchestra began to play a lively tune. He watched the Mayor of Belem rush down the stairs, seemingly heading out to greet someone, but Rafael wasn’t concerned with that. He was looking for an opportunity to get to the second floor.

This wouldn’t be easy; the second floor was the Town Hall’s office area, strictly off-limits to guests. However, Rafael didn’t believe the servants at the Belem Town Hall would be that scrupulous.

He casually spilled a cup of mead on his dress, then lifted the skirt and sought out a maid standing nearby. The maid froze the moment she saw him, only snapping back to attention after a long while, her face flushed red down to her neck. Her tone was exceedingly gentle and overly enthusiastic: “Do you need to change your dress, Madam? I know where there are extra dresses. Perhaps I could find you a new one. What color would you prefer?”

Rafael was a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm and hastily diverted her attention: “No, I want to go freshen up first.”

“Oh,” seemingly startled by his voice, the maid blinked and pointed him in a direction. “There’s a lounge over there, with clean water and towels.”

Rafael nodded politely and walked in the direction she indicated.

It must be noted here that Rafael’s voice wasn’t particularly rough, and he had deliberately altered his tone. But he wasn’t a skilled voice actor, and the results were clearly less than satisfactory.

He would just have to speak less.

Rafael thought as he walked. He had no psychological barrier about pitching his voice to impersonate a woman; he just felt a bit sorry for those who had to listen to him.

Next to the lounge was the washroom. Rafael heard faint sounds from inside the lounge, so he lightened his steps, passed the door, and entered the washroom, quickly wiping the moisture from the hem of his skirt. He heard the lounge door opening and closing; the people inside seemed to have left. He waited a moment, pushed the door ajar, and found the corridor empty.

The amber-colored gown sketched a full circle on the floor. The beautiful lady with the graceful back bent down and, with a ferocious movement inconsistent with her elegant appearance, fiercely lifted the wide skirt from the floor with both arms, holding it all against his chest like a bundle, and began to sprint down the corridor.

As he had expected, the servants guarding the stairs weren’t very diligent. The staircase in the remote area was completely unattended. Rafael almost effortlessly reached the second floor, found the mayor’s office, and began rummaging through it.

To leave Belem, one either had to use influence or bribe their way through. However, Rafael doubted whether the Royal Guards transferred from Dudley could be swayed by money. So he decided to choose a legal path—to swagger out of Besser with a travel pass signed and sealed by the mayor.

As for how to obtain that signature and seal…

Well, that had to rely on personal wisdom.

Rafael searched all over Anthony’s desk but couldn’t find the most crucial seal. He did find a few blank official documents. He casually picked up two and stuffed them into his bodice, also retrieving a discarded letter from Anthony that was thrown in a corner. It had the mayor’s signature on it; he needed to learn to forge an identical one.

But there was no seal. Nowhere to be found.

Rafael’s heart gradually sank. Could this mayor actually be a dedicated fellow who liked to carry his seal with him?

He couldn’t stay here too long. Regardless of where it was, he needed to search the mayor to find out.

Rafael made up his mind, quickly returned the items to their original positions, and, hugging his skirt, returned the way he came. He waited briefly in the washroom before slowly wiping his hands dry and returning to the ballroom.

The ballroom was already a lively scene of noise and excitement.

The experienced girls knew best how to liven up the atmosphere. Like graceful butterflies, they fluttered around every worthwhile guest, their laughter like blooming flowers, delighting every gentleman with timely smiles and perfectly measured coyness. Anthony had, of course, invited more than just the guard officers; he had also invited local gentry and lords with whom he was on good terms with. Amidst the melodious music, several couples quickly “fell in love,” leaning close to each other and whispering intimately.

Rafael noticed that the secluded corner he had chosen earlier was already occupied, so he quietly moved to a spot behind the curtain of a bay window, where he sat down to wait for the right opportunity.

That opportunity soon arrived. He saw Mayor Anthony’s signature big belly appear in his field of vision, but standing with him was—

Rafael heard his heart thump loudly against his chest, making a deafening noise.

Why was the young Emperor here?!

The young man standing beside the Mayor of Belem held a glass of wine, looking down at the liquid as if in a daze, letting the mayor chatter incessantly in his ear. He wore a Guard uniform, a gold medal pinned to his chest. His thick, curly, wool-like long hair cascaded down his back. Those light brown eyes were hidden under his eyelashes, their expression unclear, and a mask-like, gentle smile always hung on his lips.

He looked easy to get along with, but Rafael knew this was merely a facade.

This perpetually smiling Emperor had used gentleness and timidity to disguise himself for so many years, but now there wasn’t a single person in Dudley who didn’t fear him. He was a capricious madman, and no one could guess what a madman would do.

Rafael had never considered him a rival. Even until his death in his previous life, he hadn’t thought that Calais was the root cause of all the upheaval, which was why he now found himself in such a predicament.

So now, was Francois IV’s presence here a coincidence, or had he learned something?

Rafael didn’t dare gamble on the possibilities; it was simply too much of a coincidence.

The Pope anxiously brought his fingers to his mouth and bit them lightly twice. The slight sting pricked his nerves, forcing him to calm down and sort through his thoughts.

Firstly, he couldn’t leave easily now; that would be too conspicuous. Secondly, he absolutely had to get Anthony’s seal. This task had become even more urgent with François’s presence in Belem.

A cold, sharp light appeared in Rafael’s eyes. After the initial panic and unease faded, another emotion began to ferment within him: excitement surged through his veins. When two hunters meet, there must always be one victor.

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