PASP Chapter 22

Knock knock.

At the sudden knocking sound, D’Élysée turned towards the door.

A map with a single blinking green dot was spread wide on the desk. D’Élysée first hid the map in a drawer before heading to the door.

“Did you have any remaining business, Your Holiness?”

“Pardon?”

The Pope, startled like a snow rabbit, covered his mouth with his hand.

“Was there a mistake? The vice commander said you had something to tell me…”

“Ah.”

After a moment’s thought, D’Élysée smiled and replied.

“That’s right. I must be accumulating fatigue from the inauguration ceremony. How dare I forget a meeting with Your Holiness.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I might be interrupting your rest time.”

“A visit from Your Holiness is always welcome, even during rest hours. Please come in.”

D’Élysée kissed the back of the Pope’s hand. The Pope, shyly blushing, took the seat of honor as guided by the commander.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Ah, no thank you.”

The Pope laughed, patting his flat stomach. It meant he was full. D’Élysée smiled back and sat diagonally across from the Pope.

‘…This worked out well.’

He had planned to take custody of the holy knights disciplined today anyway.

‘Gavin probably intended to minimize the punishment…’

D’Élysée recalled his brother’s darkened neck. But that probably wouldn’t happen.

“Your Holiness. Actually, I had one matter to request. Regarding the custody of the holy knights disciplined this afternoon…”

As soon as he respectfully conveyed his intention, permission was granted immediately.

“Of course. In fact, it’s right for the commander to handle internal affairs of the Holy Knights Order.”

The Pope said shyly, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I appreciate your consideration, Your Holiness.”

D’Élysée expressed his gratitude with a refreshing smile.

“By the way, has the little believer already left?”

The Pope asked, looking around the office.

“It’s a shame. I wanted to see him a bit longer.”

“Little believer…”

D’Élysée’s eyebrow twitched once. Suddenly, he recalled the nickname his brother had arbitrarily blurted out.

‘Was it Salvanel?’

He calls anyone familiarly. There’s a limit to insufficient conduct. He drips sentiment towards everyone.

Despite his burning feelings, D’Élysée put on a light smile.

“That’s quite a special nickname. Not just ‘believer’.”

“Of course. He’s an acquaintance of our dear commander. And honestly…”

The Pope smiled, fiddling with something inside his long sleeve.

“Isn’t he rather cute in some ways?”

“I’m not sure. With his emaciated appearance, clumsy actions, and gloomy atmosphere. Personally, I think he’s far from cute.”

“Then is he beautiful?”

“I feel he’s a person unrelated to beauty in the first place. There won’t be any occasion to bring him into the Papal Headquarters in the future, so you don’t need to worry much about it.”

“But for that to be the case, he seemed to possess extremely excellent beauty.”

“…Did you see his face?”

“What do you think?”

It was an ambiguous response. D’Élysée’s hand gripping the sofa armrest tensed slightly. But he soon lowered his platinum eyelashes nonchalantly.

“…I’m disappointed. I thought I had a longer relationship with Your Holiness.”

“Then will you give me a nickname?”

The Pope said, gently folding his hands on his lap.

“We’ll give each other nicknames. To make it even more special.”

“An excellent decision.”

Despite the occasional incomprehensible proposal, D’Élysée matched the rhythm without hesitation.

“Rather, I’m honored. I thought it would be impolite to give a nickname to someone without an official name.”

“How could any nickname from the commander not be good?”

“Haha…”

For a moment, D’Élysée’s mouth closed. Contrary to his confident words, no words came to mind. It was originally outside his area of interest.

“If I may be so bold, could I receive a title from Your Holiness first?”

“Oh, I thought I had already given you one. Though it’s not a title…”

The Pope tapped his porcelain-white cheek with his index finger.

“Belered. Sir D’Élysée Belered.”

A fresh smile bloomed across the Pope’s face.

“I think it’s the most perfect name encompassing both sky and earth. Please accept the nickname I’ve given you.”

“Of course, Your Holiness. I’m at a loss for words, being granted such an excessive surname.”

D’Élysée’s lips moved once.

“I see. As for the name I’ll offer you…”

He couldn’t remain silent any longer. In the end, only one person came to mind again.

“How about… Salvanel?”

“?”

“How about calling you Lord Salvanel? It sounds like it might be from the former imperial language, judging by the pronunciation.”

D’Élysée smiled coolly.

“Regrettably, it seems I didn’t properly attend language classes. I don’t know the most important meaning. Perhaps Your Holiness knows?”

It was the moment D’Élysée faced the Pope. Like a marble statue in the front yard, the Pope’s expression was frozen. His purple eyes, forgetting even to blink, stared intently at D’Élysée.

“Your Holiness?”

The incomprehensible silence stretched on. D’Élysée glanced at the desk drawer containing the map.

“Are you alright, Your Holiness?”

“Ah…”

The Pope, startled, withdrew the hand he had unconsciously extended. It was a gesture as if to caress D’Élysée’s cheek.

“…It’s not from the former imperial language.”

The Pope tightly clasped his hands together, trying to hide the trembling. But he couldn’t quite conceal the tremor in his voice.

“It’s an ancient word meaning ‘arrogance’.”

“I’ve unintentionally committed a rudeness, Your Holiness. I never imagined it had such a meaning…”

D’Élysée paused.

‘How…’

Did his brother know ancient language? It’s an old study that only appears in advanced language courses. His brother hadn’t even received basic education. It was uncertain whether he could even read and write properly.

“Oh, my.”

The budding doubt was cut off at once. The moment the Pope covered his face with both hands, D’Élysée stood up without hesitation. The heavy sofa was pushed back with a thud.

“Could you give me a moment?”

D’Élysée knelt on one knee beside the Pope. The Pope was sobbing silently. His delicate shoulders shook finely, pitifully.

“I’ll consider it more deeply this time. I feel terrible for unintentionally offering you a curse.”

“No, it’s not that. I just…”

The Pope slowly raised his head. Tears beautiful as jewels flowed down his cheeks.

“I’m just so happy beyond words…”

It was joy, not sorrow. As if deeply moved by a once-in-a-lifetime experience, the Pope shed tears endlessly.

“Oh, it’s gotten quite late…”

The Pope rose unsteadily. The tears still hadn’t stopped.

“If you have no other business, I should be going…”

“You don’t look well, Your Holiness. Will you be alright like this?”

D’Élysée asked, quickly supporting the Pope. The Pope responded with a small smile instead of words. Understanding the implicit meaning, D’Élysée immediately stepped back.

“I’ve kept a busy person late. Have a good night, Your Holiness.”

“You too, Commander.”

After receiving a final kiss on the back of his hand from the commander, the Pope left the office. With an unsteady gait as if he might collapse at any moment.

***

The place the Pope headed without delay was the stone staircase leading underground. He hurried his steps, not even having sorted out his overwhelming emotions. Passing through the corridor devoid of human presence, he fiddled with the silver ring on his left middle finger.

“D’Élysée, Sir D’Élysée Belered…”

The Pope murmured.

The underground of the Papal Headquarters was restricted. Only the Pope alone was allowed passage.

Finally arriving at a certain door, the Pope took out a key.

“Ah…”

Even the hand inserting the key into the hole trembled. Click. After a moment, the door opened and the Pope entered the laboratory.

He passed through facilities lined with flasks of various colors and went through several iron doors. There was a greenhouse that was all red, and a darkroom that was all black. There was also a space where screams of something echoed.

The place he finally reached was filled with densely displayed communication devices. The Pope picked up the most insignificant and cheapest one among them.

Click.

The monotone signal didn’t even ring three times.

-Y-Your Holiness! W-what brings you at this hour of the night!

“Emperor of the Empire.”

-Y-yes! I’m listening!

For the voice of an old emperor, it lacked both dignity and gravitas. Rather, it was a terrified tone.

“I’ll convey my business briefly. From this moment on, any massacres led by the imperial family have no connection to our order.”

-Pardon? W-what are you…

“Declare martial law.”

The Pope smiled brightly while wiping away flowing tears.

“The day of the great cleaning has dawned.”