How to Survive as the Second Son of a Mage Family - Chapter 474

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“First, to call out Fabiola Orsini, the Minister of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, it would be best to send a beatification request letter in the name of the Caetani family. But with the Duke of Caetani away from his seat, we’ve lost the opportunity to send a letter by lying somehow.”

If Narke, who had originally planned to act as the Duke of Caetani from Pisa, had proposed to the Duke of Caetani in Rome that ‘we have matters to discuss with the Orsini regarding external issues, so let’s immediately convene people from each family for a meeting today,’ things would have gone smoothly. We could have persuaded the landlord with eloquent words—though we don’t have such skills, we were planning to try our best—to send a letter, but that became impossible. That would have been the most satisfactory method to minimize divine power usage, which was regrettable. I began speaking as best I could.

“The best method I can think of is simply stamping a seal. How would anyone know that the person from the Caetani in Pisa came here? You’re going to erase all the servants’ memories here before returning anyway. So the easiest method is just stamping a seal on a fake letter.”

Gabrielle readily nodded and said.

“I think so too.”

“…”

I’m thinking of a clever plan because I’m worried about your troubles, and you think so too? Should I just push forward and tell you to stamp the seal? I dismissed such temptation and said.

“…Since you said you’d prefer not to do that if possible, let’s think about it. Setting aside the Congregation for the Causes of Saints for now, meeting with a cardinal from the Congregation for Religious… honestly, I don’t know what excuse we should make. Should we send a letter to the cardinal saying we want to join a religious order? No matter how we do it, a busy cardinal wouldn’t readily make time for every letter, so we couldn’t meet today immediately.”

“Right. That’s why we needed the Caetani name. If cardinals would meet us today just by mentioning any random name, why would we be at the Caetani mansion right now?”

Elias said with his usual blunt attitude. Elias was subtly glaring at Gabrielle with his eyes, hoping we’d just write a fake letter in the Caetani name and stamp a seal. I nodded.

“First, we’ll eliminate the Congregation for Religious. Since we can’t consider Matteo Orsini as an option either, the only Orsini clergyman we can approach is Fabiola Orsini, the Minister of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints. But we cannot abuse the seal. Since a third party would be impersonating the Duke of Caetani to meet with the Orsini, it would be a bigger problem than expected in terms of honor and safety, as the Caetani mansion’s security would be breached while an unknown person acts as the family head and interferes with the family’s diplomacy. It would seriously cause trouble for His Excellency Gabrielle Caetani as well. This fact would spread to Germany too, so let’s be moderate if possible. Ah, that’s why persuading the landlord to act voluntarily would be best, but it’s regrettable that he went to Milan today.”

“Seeing you mention it twice, you must really regret it. It’s strange that lying to the landlord is considered moderate.”

Gabrielle said this with a dry attitude. He might think so, but we didn’t. This was quite moderate by our standards. I turned slightly toward my friends and slammed my left hand on the table with a sound.

“This isn’t a matter to drag out. Let’s try thinking.”

“Right.”

“In short, the core of the current situation is that considering honor, the responsibility shouldn’t lie with the Caetani, and considering security and the resulting repercussions, the responsibility shouldn’t lie with us. Is that correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Then it’s simple. We solve it by putting all responsibility on the Orsini.”

For a moment, Gabrielle, who had been showing doubt within his indifference, quietly looked at me and then relaxed his body and leaned back against the chair. He had read my thoughts through insight. Narke was the same. I felt somewhat bewildered as I sensed four eyes staring intently at my eyes alone. After all, having Narke read my unspoken thoughts was enough, and I had never expected two people with the same ability to do such a thing simultaneously. I looked at the air expressionlessly and snapped my fingers with a sound.

“From now on, let’s compose a letter that the Orsini side urgently ‘sent’ to the Caetani family this morning.”

“Ah, this should be interesting.”

Elias’s generous reaction made me laugh. I looked at Gabrielle and gestured toward the door with my chin.

“Your Excellency Gabrielle Caetani, please gather all the correspondence exchanged with the Orsini so far. Also bring suitable paper, pen, and ink.”

* * *

Gabrielle silently brought a box and set it down in front of us. Then he crossed his arms and watched what we were doing. He neither made eye contact nor conversed with Narke. He treated Narke as if he didn’t exist in this space. Narke also remained silent.

It seems Gabrielle’s emotional rift toward Narke runs deeper than I thought. Why does Matteo Orsini follow Narke, and why did he say that if Narke’s return to Rome became known, the Vatican clergy who control Rome would pour overwhelming interest into Narke’s return—meaning Rome would stop? Why does Gabrielle particularly dislike Narke? Why did Ishmailov call them brothers…? I have hypotheses, but I won’t confirm anything yet. Instead, I opened my mouth.

“Right. Let’s begin.”

So what should we do now? Naturally, we need to imitate the Orsini’s handwriting. Since I’m gradually admitting that I’m barely capable of doing my share when it comes to manual work, I won’t do it. Then who should I entrust it to? Narke’s handwriting is mature and elegant, but I don’t know if he can imitate other people’s writing well. But I know one thing.

I dipped the quill pen in an appropriate amount of ink and placed it in Elias’s hand.

“Can you do it?”

“Of course!”

Elias clicked his tongue and took the pen. After taking a deep breath and alternately looking at the Orsini letter spread on the left and the blank practice sheet, he asked me.

“But have I ever shown you copying handwriting in front of you before?”

“I wonder. You seem like you’d be good at it.”

Elias smiled broadly and unhesitatingly began writing the Orsini’s handwriting on the practice sheet. Then he lifted the practice sheet to show us the result. Sunlight gently reflected off the not-yet-dry ink tips, making them sparkle.

“Wow~”

Narke, who had checked the letters, finally reacted greatly. I also nodded with a surprised face beside him.

“Amazing. Of course it’s different, but… with a bit more practice, it’ll be truly perfect.”

“Hahaha! As expected. You guys recognize my true worth.”

I patted Elias’s shoulder without saying much. Gabrielle, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke.

“It’s curious how you can imitate handwriting you’re seeing for the first time so well.”

“Well, you need to be able to forge documents to rob the imperial document storage and prevent federal council members from attending parliament on voting day.”

“Then why didn’t you just imitate the Duke of Caetani’s handwriting instead?”

“How would I know what the duke’s or his dedicated scribe’s handwriting looks like? Anyway, to get the source, we’d have to break into your mansion, specifically into a room important enough to store letters. Besides… one day isn’t enough to imitate it perfectly.”

Gabrielle nodded as if he had expected as much. Elias’s words were true. He had practiced the emperor’s handwriting painstakingly since childhood—though his young, clumsy hands didn’t easily follow Elias’s will back then, he thought that if he could freely distribute the emperor’s edicts as he pleased, he might be able to free himself and his father more. Though he never actually distributed false edicts, in the novels I read, he had been forging various documents whenever the opportunity arose, and today, practically for the first time before my eyes, his skills shone. Fortunately, Elias knew very well that long tails always get caught eventually, so he didn’t forge documents for trivial matters and accepted the flow of events. If he hadn’t arrived in Rome with such difficulty today, he wouldn’t have tried to imitate the Orsini’s handwriting.

After that, Elias spent almost an hour continuously filling paper densely with writing. Though I said more practice would do it, since it was someone else’s handwriting, practice was needed to eliminate the remaining sense of incongruity. Narke quietly advised while looking at the writing beside Elias.

“The end of the D should come up more sharply.”

“But the feeling is similar, right?”

“Yes. It’s amazing.”

Narke answered with a smile. It seemed sufficient to deceive at this point, so I cleared my throat and said.

“Right, let’s begin. I’ll dictate, so write it on the practice sheet first.”

“Wait, Luca! What about letter paper?”

“We don’t need it.”

I gently rolled and unrolled cream-colored paper cut to an appropriate length, then rolled the paper around the thin pen shaft and pressed it with my hand. Elias’s eyes widened as he saw the paper tied to the pen shaft.

“Ah. Don’t tell me…”

“Right, that’s it. What you’re thinking. Your Excellency Gabrielle Caetani, what is the name of the Caetani cardinal considering beatification?”

“Elda Caetani.”

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

“The lower servants know. Since someone disguised as another person entered immediately after the duke left for Milan and then acted as the duke. I told them he would leave again soon.”

“But he didn’t leave soon. Since it’s about time, please cleanly erase those people’s memories.”

Gabrielle nodded and stood up from his seat. I turned my head toward Elias.

“Elias, I’ll dictate. ‘To His Excellency the beloved Duke of Caetani. His Holiness the Pope has refused the beatification of the late Cardinal Elda Caetani.'”

The moment “His Holiness the Pope” was dragged from my mouth, Gabrielle Caetani turned around and raised his eyebrows.

* * *

“Your Excellency Longi.”

Matias Longi, a distant branch member of the Longi family and chamberlain of the Caetani family, slightly lowered his glasses. His subordinate who entered the room handed him a note rolled into a circle about the height of a finger joint, his face pale.

“The servants at the observatory received and brought a letter sent by the Orsini through carrier pigeon, but the content is serious. Your Excellency Longi must read it.”

Longi unfolded the letter and froze. At the very time His Grace the Duke was away, the Orsini had delivered shocking news.

‘His Holiness the Pope refused Cardinal Elda Caetani’s beatification?’

How much effort has His Grace been putting into beatifying his ancestor? No, before that, we haven’t even received word from Minister Fabiola Orsini of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints that they’ve finished reviewing whether Cardinal Elda Caetani is suitable as a beatification candidate. But it wasn’t rejected at Minister Fabiola Orsini’s level—His Holiness the Pope directly refused Cardinal Elda Caetani’s beatification? How, why? Is this pitiful result what we got after waiting over a month for our predecessor’s beatification? Longi quickly grabbed his outer garment and adjusted his glasses. He had to go see the Pope. There might have been some error in the delivery process. Even if it were true that His Holiness said such things, and even if His Holiness wouldn’t meet him right away, he had to meet the Pope’s close associates to hear stories that could explain the situation to His Grace the Duke and express the Caetani side’s intentions. That was his job as chamberlain.

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

He needed to find out whether she thought His Holiness had abused excessive authority too early, or if she shared the same thoughts as His Holiness. If the former, he could try joining forces with Cardinal Fabiola Orsini; if the latter, he would have to try changing the mind of the Orsini, who were the Pope’s close associates, before confronting His Holiness. Even if he didn’t enter into full-scale negotiations right away, it was right to assess the situation before His Grace the Duke returned.

Longi took out paper cut for carrier pigeon communication and wrote a letter saying he would go there immediately. In another letter, he briefly wrote the contents of the note he had just received to the Duke of Caetani, who was currently in Milan, and wrote that he would find out what had happened in detail, then took it down to the communication office inside the mansion where the carrier pigeons were.

Less than 20 minutes later, Longi headed to the Orsini family with his close associates. Since he was visiting suddenly, he took a carriage instead of warping to maintain minimum courtesy, but since they were in the same city anyway, he soon had to get off after riding the carriage for only a short time. The Orsini had several residences, but arriving at the building where the most core personnel lived, Longi waved his hand to greet the guard in front of the Orsini’s Monterotondo mansion and said.

“I’ve come as the Duke of Caetani’s representative. It’s about matters related to His Holiness the Pope’s orders.”

The guard knew Longi’s face, so he bowed his head and stepped aside. Entering the lobby, Longi explained the situation to the servant who came out to greet him. Before long, Longi and the Caetani associates were called to the office of the Orsini’s next heir. Since it wasn’t a pleasant topic, there was no reason for long small talk, so they exchanged simple greetings and then entered into serious discussion. The eldest son and heir of the Orsini, the middle-aged mage Annunziata Orsini, read through the note with what appeared to be—though I don’t know if it was genuine—a serious and grave face, then shook his head.

“As you know, there’s a blockade on the Papal States, so to meet the clergy inside, we have no choice but to enter directly ourselves. But actually, even going that far is difficult. They try not to let just anyone in. Moreover, those inspections are truly humiliating. What wrong have I done to give them the right to tell me to empty everything in my pockets? I was greatly shocked by such treatment, as if they were treating me like a beggar living in a ghetto.”

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

“First, we have no way of knowing when His Holiness said such things. The Papal States wash even carrier pigeons with divine power each time and censor all writing, so they usually neither send information out nor let it in. I think there must have been some mistake. No matter how much His Holiness might be, prohibiting beatification so preemptively when the Congregation for the Causes of Saints hasn’t even sent materials to the Apostolic See yet is an unreasonable action. Moreover, the late Cardinal Elda Caetani spent his life helping hundreds of wounded Catholic children live under God’s grace both materially and spiritually—why would His Holiness prohibit his beatification?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Your Excellency. We Caetani cannot agree with this decision.”

“I feel the same way. If this is true, His Holiness must have had personal ill feelings toward Cardinal Elda Caetani. We cannot accept His Holiness’s decision based on such private reasons either… We will help sufficiently, so don’t worry. One thing that’s certain is that this wasn’t sent by us Orsini.”

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

“That is…”

Annunziata Orsini frowned with a face that said thinking was tiresome, then pursed his lips.

“I can only say it’s a coincidence. In my view, it’s never identical, just similar. His Grace the Duke has been ill recently and hasn’t participated in government affairs. He’s still sleeping for recovery even now.”

“Then is there a possibility that this letter was sent from another Orsini mansion…”

“I’m not certain, but probably not. As you know, the Orsini residing in other mansions aren’t in positions to hear news from the Papal States.”

“We should investigate anyway.”

“Well, do as you wish. We can’t know for certain whether it’s correspondence from us Orsini or not, but since our name is involved, I feel bad that we seem to have created something troubling for the Caetani family. We’ll also inquire whether there’s anyone who obtained this news in advance and sent a note to the Caetani.”

* * *

[Nothing wrong. That person called Annunziata or whatever did send letters to other Orsini asking if they’d received any beatification-related news from the Papal States, but that’s all.]

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

We didn’t take a carriage. Since Narke wasn’t inexperienced with control as Gabrielle had pointed out—rather the opposite—we decided that I and Elias would step forward when staying in the same space as powerful mages, in case any problems arose, even while traveling with him. The three of us warped to the road near the Monterotondo Orsini mansion under Narke’s lead as Chamberlain Longi left the Caetani mansion, and after waiting there briefly, we were able to encounter Chamberlain Longi and his associates who came by carriage.

The fact that people working as mansion guards are usually not very powerful mages and are often even humans, plus the obvious fact that gates open both ways, helped us greatly. We cast invisibility magic on Elias and had him follow behind Chamberlain Longi and his associates. Since there would be powerful mages moving around inside, we couldn’t enter all the way to the office where Annunziata Orsini was, so we sent Elias to the mail room instead. The mansion’s post office where all correspondence arrives and goes out, that is.

And Elias would guard the mail room until we sent a signal to come out, because if news later spread among the Orsini family, some Orsini who felt something was strange might try to get their family members to dig up information to ensure their safety. As we can tell from experience so far and Ainsiedel’s testimony, the traitor in the Papal States isn’t very bold, so if their family and the Papal States were connected, there’s a possibility they’d carefully examine the situation. Anyone who later sends letters to the Monterotondo mansion asking various questions, or anyone who secretly sends letters from the Monterotondo mansion to the outside, is the culprit.

Elias would only leave the mail room when we sent a signal, wait by the back gate, and then run at full speed to escape the mansion when guests came and went. Since we don’t know when guests will come and go, he might have to wait a long time, but it can’t be helped. Actually, we don’t need to worry about Elias’s escape—Narke and I just need to do well. I whispered.

“Were there any codes worth deciphering?”

[No. It’s just one line. And the carrier pigeon cages are packed full too.]

Fortunately or unfortunately, seeing that he’s not sending warnings to other Orsini, Annunziata Orsini has absolutely nothing to do with the Papal States spy. I crossed names off the list in my head.

“Stay hidden well.”

[Ah~ this is difficult.]

Elias speaks with a leisurely tone, acting nonchalant. Meanwhile, Narke grabs my wrist and warps us somewhere.

Rome has the Theater of Marcellus. The ancient semicircular theater that resembles the Colosseum is used as the Orsini residence. You might wonder how people could possibly live in a theater, but through extensions, they built Renaissance-style buildings connected to the ancient two-story arcade. The Sabelli, who were the theater’s previous owners, and the Orsini, who are the current owners, may have wanted to grasp the pale sand dust and sunset that wandered through ancient Rome, but that—not as dramatically as the Renaissance people thought it was a upheaval—scatters beneath the back wall that couldn’t fully escape the influence of medieval fortress style. Under the discord between ancient and modern times, an unpleasant sense of wonder arose. This wasn’t the wonder that follows aesthetics, but amazement at learning for the first time that architecture could so nakedly reveal human greed.

After some time, Caetani’s carriage stopped in front of the theater. I cast invisibility magic and followed the path that Longi Chamberlain took. Narke, who sat down heavily in the park outside the theater, didn’t continue casting invisibility magic and instead wore the appearance of someone else. When waiting for long periods, staying invisible actually had a higher chance of being discovered.

The manor’s interior was more ordinary than the outside. I held my breath and followed behind. So far, the only people I’ve encountered inside the manor are humans. This time, I decided to wait around the study area with the intention of observing the expression of the Orsini who lives in this building when the door opens. Though very rare in such cases, they might have a personal warp mailbox, so I needed to properly check the room structure as well.

If there’s no one here who was in contact with Papal States spies either, it means the culprit sent mail to France by breaking through the Papal States’ surveillance purely through their own power. Not by safely receiving information through someone from their own family first. Even if exchanging with family is permitted, directly sending correspondence to France would be an extremely risky move. Therefore, the culprit really needed to come from this building. Otherwise, it looked like I’d have to go searching for condottieri who had left Rome.

Longi Chamberlain enters the study. I leaned against the wall at the end of the hallway. How much time had passed? I stared at the doorway while listening to the wind sounds and daily noises that Narke and Elias were transmitting. Then, there was a sound of something being grabbed, followed by a human voice heard nearby.

[Yeha?]

I felt my mind freeze momentarily at the unfamiliar voice that came through the artifact. Yeha? Yeha, they said. Right now… Even after the unfamiliar pronunciation ended and in the gradually widening moment of silence, I instinctively knew who that person was. Countless thoughts swept through my head. I needed a solution. Risks and worst-case scenarios flashed by, and my conclusion was, ‘Still, there’s no choice.’ I cast soundproofing magic and shouted.

“Narke, call out the coordinates of that location!”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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