Thought It Was 'The End', Only to Return to a Changed Genre - Chapter 213
The reprieve that seemed as though it might last forever finally came to an end.
Genevieve’s papal inauguration date was set.
Even without Genevieve’s request for her to attend, Adeline knew that using her health as an excuse to remain secluded was nearing its limit. She had no choice but to return to the Blanchard estate.
To attend the event, she needed a dress fitted, but it wasn’t feasible to summon Madame Harper, Rachel, or other designers to her retreat, no matter how much they were acquainted with Jeff.
No matter how comfortable her secluded residence was, its original purpose had been as a prison.
A luxurious and secure prison.
Is a prison still a prison if the person confined has no desire to leave?
For Adeline, the secluded retreat was akin to a resort on a remote island in the Maldives, accessible only by private plane.
Jeff grumbled about it.
“How am I supposed to explain why a suburban house has tighter security than the imperial palace? Unless Rachel’s an idiot, she won’t buy it.”
It was impossible to convincingly pass it off as just a normal health retreat.
While Adeline ran laps around the tiny garden, the seasons changed.
During that time, the founding festival successfully concluded, and the death of the pope was officially announced.
The next pope would be chosen by vote. Although there were no formally designated candidates, this rule existed more as a formality. Long ago, priests had locked themselves away for days or even weeks to cast their votes.
But now, even without speaking openly, everyone knew who the next pope would be long before voting began.
This time was no different.
Votes poured in for the saintess, not a cardinal, as if everyone had agreed on it beforehand.
It was announced that she had been unanimously chosen as the next pope.
Simultaneously, the late pope’s will was revealed. While his personal character and preferences were secondary, the revelation that a long-revered pope had wished for the saintess to succeed him created an overwhelmingly favorable atmosphere for Genevieve.
“At least he managed to be of some use after his death.”
Emma sipped her tea, her tone dripping with cynicism.
“A saintess becoming pope is a great example of how women can be leaders. Both I and Her Majesty the Empress have come to see him in a new light, just because of that will.”
There had never been a female pope in the history of this world.
For a religion centered on a goddess, Emma had always found it unfair that women were excluded from leadership roles.
Surely, the goddess never explicitly stated a preference for old men.
If Genevieve became pope, she would be incredibly busy with administrative duties and purifying the lands through her missions. However, her appointment would bring significant societal change.
“It took him until his death to gain any semblance of wisdom. During his prime, he was so reckless that it was unbearable to watch.”
“What was he like?”
“Every orphanage sponsored by the church was filled with his offspring.”
“…….”
“Not a single one was officially recognized, of course, but anyone could tell they were his. They all looked nothing like their mothers and exactly like him.”
By law, clergy were supposed to remain celibate.
While they couldn’t pass on their surnames, they could still provide financial support for their children. The pope, however, blatantly pretended not to notice, even when confronted with faces identical to his own.
At least six of these children had become members of the clergy themselves.
Both father and children were fully aware of their shared bloodline but pretended not to know, exchanging polite smiles as though nothing was amiss. The children had inherited not just their father’s face but also his peculiar temperament.
Not that they got along.
One of the church officials who had threatened Genevieve was the pope’s eldest son, while the leader of the faction pushing for Genevieve’s papacy was the pope’s youngest son.
What a mess.
The drama playing out in the church seemed like an endless series of interconnected soap operas.
“Even His Majesty the Emperor has at least provided financial support.”
“A pot calling the kettle black.”
To be precise, it was the difference between a dog that dirtied itself and another that didn’t bother to clean up.
“Exactly. Her Majesty the Empress nagged him so much about it that he moved to a provincial villa years ago and hasn’t returned since. From what I hear, he’s indulging in all kinds of disgraceful activities. What on earth is he thinking?”
Emma shook her head, her expression one of disbelief.
The empress’s push to hasten Edwin’s marriage and coronation was motivated by concerns over the emperor’s isolation and potential for scandal.
While it would be best if he stayed out of sight entirely, the worry was that he might be swayed by some nonsense and cause real trouble.
