Religious Journey part 2

[Wilhemia]

After speaking with the Harbor Master, the Cardinal made his way through the streets toward the Cathedral. He offered no side glance to people as he strode past them. He was not a welcoming sort of man. His job was the politics of the church. The common people were truly of little interest for him. However much that displeased his mentor.

The steps were taken and the door opened beneath the kid gloved hand. He stood for a long moment there within the doorway allowing his eyes to adjust before moving forward. He swept his way down the aisle toward the alter, only there did he pause. His head dipped low as the other lifted to cross himself as he took to a knee. The quiet prayer , pious and humbly given.

He rose again to turn and find himself being advanced on by the Father Donovan. He offered only a faint welcoming smile toward the man. " Good day to you, Father. I am apologize for my unannounced arrival. "He spoke quietly as the two men shook hands. Hortense couldn't help the faint twitch at an eye as the Good priest spoke of there being no need for apologies, when clearly there were.

No priest enjoyed another, least of all one from the Holy City to come unannounced. It tended to make one feel.. defensive. Odd how that made Hortense grin a bit more.

" What has brought you to our fair country? " Father Donovan inquired as he folded his hands before him, leading Hortense off toward the private chambers to speak. Hortense paused to look over the cathedral a long moment before walking slowly to catch up.

" I am here to locate a young woman, Wilhemia Schelitz. Her father was Odyses Schelitz, one of the Most Holy's guardsman. " He spoke quietly as the Father looked at him and nodded slowly.

" I believe I remember the man, he passed away a couple of years ago, did he not? " He questioned as he watched Hortense's expression darken just a touch.

" Indeed, he died in the services of the Chuch. Most Holy believes in ensuring his daughter did not suffer the loss too keenly , so I was sent to ensure her .. financial well being was provided for. " he spoke in the smooth rich tone.

Father Donovan lifted a brow but kept his own thoughts to himself. " That is most kind of his Worship. " he stated guardedly. " How is it that I may assist you in this? "he pushed this conversation right along. Somehow he felt.. oddly distrusting of this man from Rome.

The curls of black hair were tinged just lightly with gray as he looked to his companion priest. " I need the girl's location. Merely that, I will deliver the rest to her. " he stated quietly. The expression was blank and the dark eyes held no wavering of who would deliver the funds.

Father Donovan didn't hate anyone, but he was growing to dislike this man. " She has returned to her father's old farm. I can have a man show you the way , if it pleases you. "He spoke quietly.

" Yes.. I would appreciate that. But for now, a small cell that I may wash and rest after my journey. "He gave a nod and began walking again as if this was his cathedral. Hortense always was an arrogant bastard.

[Wilhemia]

The following morning the Cardinal woke and had breakfast with the Father Donovan. It was a simple fare, of which he was unaccustomed but he kept his silence. His distain however was evident upon his face. He had changed into the rich satin red robes, the small smile worn upon the trimmed and neat goatee. He kept his tone pleasureable and gentle as he listened and gave a nod to attend the services given that morning.

As they entered the cathedral he knelt once more, the soft latin passing his lips as he crossed himself. The rosary cross was lifted to his lips just as the prayer ended and he found himself escorted to a chair there upon the diaz as a guest.

While Father Donovan spoke, he found himself absently looking over the faces within the congregation. Some were rather homely , while others delicately beautiful. All in all it was a dull but well written sermon. He sang along with the songs as they had been written , though much to the credit of the arrogant priest, he needed no book to follow the words. He knew them by heart.

As the sermon came to a close he prayed with the rest and slowly rose, remaining there upon the diaz as people began to file out. The novice assigned to take him to the farm approached with a duck of his head.

" I've a carriage ready , your Eminence. "He promised as Hortense looked over the lad and gave a small nod.

" Very well. " He rose and began the path toward the doors where the carriage awaited to take him to the farm. He wanted nothing more currently then to finish this business, return to the ship and find his way back to his delightful home.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

No matter the irreverant variety of work laid out to be completed in fashions most grim, the Master was first and foremost a child of God. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost encompassed all and each a strange relationship with the odd creation of elegant darkness, but enjoyed to see it fostered for she was not alien to coming on her knees in reverent, ardent thanks. Attendance to the cathedral for Mass was a common practice in earlier years, and though her public sightings for months had been rare, her presence in the streets invoked the old round of salutations in voice. Presentation of bodies fell to bowing and curtsy. Peasents often paid homage to those above them though society touted equality among men for effort's sake. A sure way to be noticed was to be in the favor of the monied or the high born. From carriage's place across the street she walked across the thoroughfare to the grand door accompanied by no less that two men to serve as escort in. One walked before the party by a few cautious steps whilst the other took up residence beside the woman he served, allowed the privelege of lifting her delicate hand to the top of his own as they moved along. Along with this, two women walked but two steps behind her. The party then numbering five crossed the threshold with the parishoners, given leave to walk ahead of two other lords, one gentrymen, and a score of the simple stock.


She opened her purse in the instant before being swallowed up in the halls of God. Each movement between the women was a dance with the high borne offering alms to upstretched bowls, and instructing the youngest of the party to do the same before entering. While in all women the hair was covered, it was only on the high borne her face was behind a soft, clouded screen. The illusion of their silence was impeccable so it proved false only to those within the party:

"It would seem the nobility has increased in issue within the realm since last we noticed Master Volatire."

"Yes, and the newly monied in merchant, those who have inherited a familial title. New faces splashed among the old peerage. Not everything has changed, look, two Counts there. A Countess. An Earl. They seem to be keen to acknowledge the party though they can not see your face."

"Quite, their eyes were transfixed by the heraldry under which we traveled. What is Northampton they think, why did the King grant such magnificent land with such glorious architecture to one of them. Why not among the old of the blue bloods? They have not been to Parliment, either, or they would have heard who with their own ears. It is alright."


It was alright to be pushed aside for awhile in the mind, her obscurity since her return from England allowed the household a chance to settle in peace. Why, the return had been so quiet rumor abounded that the Lady Govenor, her esteemed Grace, sacrificed herself! The story was touching. Salutations to God came first for allowing her life to go on, for success of household members in Spain, and in rememberance of those who had gone on beyond. Seating would go first a gentlemen for the benefit of hosting the ladies in between them, where in the highborn was the center of all, a strange little collect of noble born and only slightly lesser, a little family off to Mass.

Printing press granted the Cathedral prayer books to distribute of the latin rite but it seemed rather useless when one compared it to the number of illiterate. It would take more than a simplistic five years to educate a populace, though the city itself hosted a more literate population than the likes of Edinburgh or even London. People were content before God to keep their place, and even with those that lifted the books to follow the language dutifully broken down she needn't the laymens device. She gave responsa when it was needed, recited when it was required, and sang of hymn in reverance. Nothing distracted the eye of Laurence from the Holiest of Holy. Not until after the event had passed, when Father Donovan gave his humble blessings for all to go out in to the world did the spiritual manifest to one of material gain.

From the view of his place before the altar in the seats of the ordained did he appear to her, crystal to her set of eyes despite a sea of vestments. It was his eyes that did it, the banal curvature of his mouth in route recitation of 'amen'. Leaving the pew was longer than enterting, as all not only stopped to pay homage to the crucified Christ with bent knee and crossing themselves, but as the Prince of the Church passed by they would lower themselves. In the end people would move out of the doors. At the very least, his holiness would not have to wade through a sea of the lesser-than-worthy or be bothered with giving a blessing. It would be interesting to see if he would,though. She, from her vantage point, settled to be one of the lasts to depart this day. As he moved by she bid in proper tones of reverance, "Good day to you, your Eminence." By then her guard had come to either side of her, and the women all fell with her in the lead to curtsy, the men to bow. In all the greetings he'd recieved would this voice rise above the others? She was certainly not lacking in the social graces, and seemed to exonerate them merely by executing the act.

[Wilhemia]

The dark eyes watched over congregation, he had not missed the five that had entered. However he did not allow his eyes to linger long. The steps down from the diaz taken as he began to walk. It was not the words so fairly spoken, nor the respect that was shown by the group, it was their Lady's own voice that brought the man to a halt.

He turned slowly, the red robes turned as he did, as he watched for a long moment. " Good day to you, My lady. "he spoke quietly. He , himself offered a half bow of sorts in return to the gracious greeting. He looked at the guazy veil that hid her face. He was fairly certain he had known the voice before, though it was a time ago.. and a meeting so very brief. Yet?

There were moments within a life time that even those sparce meetings , the few weeks of knowing, could not be erased so easily. Though dare he believe she had given up an opportunity to be here.. in this place? It seemed unlikely that two that were selected yet , two that declined the offer of the Church had come to reside here.. as some sort of coincidence.

He extended his hand toward the Lady with a half grin of that devilish charm that loomed around him as an aura. Had he not given his life and soul over to the church.. Only the heavens themselves knew how far that elegant charm could have taken him?

"Please allow me My Lady. " he offered giving the man next to her a glance and a quirked brow. He was a man of the church.. obviously no one to fear.. right? " But I can not help but feel.. I have been in the grace of your presence once before.. have I not? " He asked smoothly.

The novice stood waiting off to the side, all but ignored for now. Hortense was busy, the carriage and the farm girl would wait for a moment.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

There was no doubt in her mind that she had been made for moments such as this. Her last two commisions including her most recent position had put holes in her body that would forever more change the way it behaved. She had to reinvent herself. A phoenix risen from the ash, the traits of an old life followed to the new time. All things can't claim to grow better with age yet St. Laurence found a way to halt time in its tracks. Her body showed no signs of ever having borne a child, thus to the eye it was a pleasing shape enhanced by the cut of gown, the tightness of the hidden laces beneath the velvet, not so molded by it as to have inperfection to hide. A voice neither too light nor too deep. The veil hid the complex facts of the face but revealed the shape of the head, the height of the brow, and the lips that moved.

"Thank you, Eminence." Voltaire and Claudio allowed the Holy Prince to take the hand gloved in the skin of rabbit, lined by the same fur. He hardly felt her weight at all as she rose. How fitting that she wore the shade of sienna, for while it was a rich shade it would do nothing to contradict the briliance of the Holy one's red. Gentle lips kissed the air of his ring before she came to stand fully on two feet. "Yes, Eminence, it has been some time since last we met. All meetings I have heard are not without reason. The wisdom perhaps is given unto the time of now?" The little party held up the plans on which he was to embark. Father Donovan watched a distance, not needing to hear the words to know something ensnared the devil. He hoped the woman would have more sense than to become his concubine. As the veil was pulled back from the face, one of her maids reached up to take the chain that had held it the front to switch it to join the decoration of the back, so that the sheer fabric and golden chain preceeded the cascade of imported dark sienna cotton. Her gown was the one straight, slick shade of light sienna save where on the bodice a center pattern of swirled shapes were in gold thread, beading, and mother of pearl. A tasteful decadence, modest enough for church. His eyes of all eyes could pick the fortune from stem to stern.

With the revelation of face form became of secondary consequence. She had never been one to smile in the broad open, or if so, easily missed. A lowered eye, another shorter curtsy before they continued on." I do hope the Holy Father is in good health, all praise to him," she crossed herself, "And that you have come in the same, of good health and all deserving praise." Voltaire made the discrete introduction when given leave, "Your Eminence, may I present Her Grace, the Duchess of Northampton, the Lady Vincere - St. Laurence." For so many years it had remained in the singular, only, Madame denoted that she had been wed. Had he died? Her life no doubt as interesting as his reasons for a journey that would find each in a rain ridden little corner of the world exploding to life with things none would have thought it capable of.

[Wilhemia]

He only grinned as the eyes slid across her velvet wrapped body. There was no need to be concerned, he could admire and keep the thoughts buried so deeply within himself that only God himself knew. The brows lifted a bit as he listened to the woman be announced.

" Ah.. have we married since our last meeting , My Lady? " He spoke with an amused sort of growl to his voice. The servants in his eyes were all but dismissed as he glanced back toward Donovan. But he didn't spend more then a small departing nod and glance to the Father. He turned and began toward the door.

" And yes it seems most fortituious this meeting of ours. It seems the last I had the true honor and pleasure of your company , I had found myself in quiet a puzzle. It seems yet again I stand within the brink of such... " He paused to think the best way to put it. " despair as to find myself accompanied by the locals. " He wasn't ashamed to admit his own arrogance.

He kept his place slow, a mere stroll upon the polished cathedral floors. All the while he kept that gloved hand of hers so lovingly and light within his hand. Only once did he allow himself a passing of his thumb across her knuckles. Who could resist such a delicate and breathtaking beauty? Surely God himself would have given in to such weakness.

" Perhaps it may be that you will become my savior once more? " He lifted a brow then looked to the woman at his side. That grin again this time matched his eyes. " If you will allow, we were all quite crushed when you decided against the option remaining with us. " that was stated simply between the pair of them as the grand gesture with the other hand began. " As for the Most Holy , he has been in good health and remains as always a pillar of holiness and faith in which we all weigh ourselves against. "

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

He kept the thought to himself well enough but it was the subtle gestures that betrayed a man, not his mouth. A woman who could read them never announced it. He was good in every way of concealing himself if only for a tiny hint of attention paid to her hand too much? That too could easily be excused. Admittedly, she missed such times of concetrated study, but such was life when one turned youth to the world after age had taught it. There was no gray hair on her head though, so she still had some self-use yet. "Yes, Eminence, I have, for five years now." Had he only been five years sooner - or did it matter- it hadn't stopped him before. It wasn't too unheard of for a man to give his wife the posture of an elevated courtesan, a pretty jezebel at days end. Hortense had always been a collector of pretty things. Fortunes could be made as a mistress for a man of the Holy See but alas, here was one aspect of life never to be bent for. Due diligence and utmost respect for posistion paid meant that she could never submit herself to an advance. He'd never been..direct with her as he was with others. Maybe it was because he enjoyed being not so blatant for the thrill.

While she would never lay with him he was always so thrilling in the mental sense of the word. It must have been wealth beyond imagination and the security of absolution of sin that made him a Prince of the church instead of a prosperous Lord SomethingorOther. "Ah a puzzle it was but nothing can not be solved if it is meant to be solved it only requires the right manipulation of pieces to see the complete picture.." she listened them as he complained of his common place pleblian surroundings. A look of true sympath did appear on her features with a shake of head. While she could hold discourse with anyone, she was born baronial blooded with ties to ducal blood. She rose through the ranks of her own devices but not without due course if one based it on what flowed in the veins. She was a thoroughbred, one he didn't have in his stable of fine mares. Pity that. "How unfortunate for his Eminence. Still, but give it more time. There is a bastian of culture and refinement, even underfoot given the roads here are paved, not muddied. A theater, places of art and commerce. A lively little court. Certainly you do not work so that you can not find what would be suitable for your further accomadation?" As if he'd be here once. Knowing this man, if he found one fascinating inkling he'd find reason to have lodgings maintained even if he came only twice per year.

The smooth of thumb over knuckles, all the indication he would give of desiring a little more. Very subtle. She detested vagrant abuses of power in her clergymen but he was so worldly more of his desire in pretty things than in other ways. Really, some abuses you simply shrugged away as methods of practice in the faith. It wasn't as if he was selling indulgences at the present time. "His Eminence is too kind. You have always been such an ardentsupporter, when it was in the presence of my former party," She would not say Master in the open air, obviously he knew what she meant, "and then upon my own, you were one of esteem." Why he had never sought to sully her repute was beyond her. Aside from the obvious fear of losing fingers or an outright hand, had he actually respected her? Uncanny. "I beg your apologies for inflicting such pain upon the likes of you and his Holy's most humble servants. I am pleased to hear that his Holiness is well, for he is the descendent of St. Peter with the keys to the kingdom of Heaven." Or the Kingdom of whomever suited his interests at the time. Really, it still was of no small wonder that in the company of one local resident came the holiness himself to elevate then a common duchy to not only blessed, but that of Arch with the blessings of the former King. It was not uncommon though for his shadow walkers to have their own agendas. Whatever waited for him beyond the doors unknowing they would have thanked St.Laurence for being a distraction n an ongoing plot.

"Your savior? You are as much a poet as you are a prince of the Church, such praise. How might such a thing be possible now?" A rare gem appeared from the trove, the barest hint of a smile, the ghost that evaded him so often so many years ago. It gave light to a face that, thank God, seemed to have hardly changed a day. Where it had changed it was only for the best.

[Wilhemia]

Now now, to say he was a collector of fine and pretty things, was not as bad as it would seem. It would deem him one that could appreciate and admire such delicate beauty found within all Gods creation. Would it not? He listened to her and even allowed a faint dark rich chuckle to slip passed his lips.

Five years.. five years he had been remiss in his quest? No, while there were others that would seek to gain such, acquisitions against the will , Hortense did not believe in such. To give willingly was far more to his tastes. And his liked his hands and fingers where they were, properly attached.

" Forgive my words, my dear Lady. I do not wish to seem, so down trodden upon my surroundings, only that I miss the familiarity of my own home. " he allowed himself a brief , frank statement. He allowed the comments and pleasantries of the Pope and his health to go without further comment.

He gave his respect to very few, the lady who graciously allowed his company, currently, had one that respect. Again as a collector of the refined, she had a mind. She was far more interested in the expanse of it , then station found staring at a ceiling. That in itself demanded respect.

" Indeed a puzzle.. for I have not yet come to fully comprehend the denial of position among the faithful. " he spoke in a vague terms. Surely she would understand what he spoke about. The elevated station to being a courtsean within Rome was not as lowly or common place as a street whore. Yet it was a position of power, if one used it correctly, such as the Lady Malacov had.

There was a woman that if one could possess.. he would. To give up riches to lay reigns upon that woman? Though such thoughts were beneath him truly. His oath and services was to God. But again, a creation of God, though he was fairly certain the Lady Malacov had even the Devil himself beneath her thumb. Perhaps something to presue when he returned to Rome. Again that thought tucked away into the furtherest region of his mind.

" I am here to find a young woman that goes by the name Wilhemia Schelitz. Perhaps it is within your vast knowledge, to know her? " He inquired. Now mind there was not a word spoke at this point that would be misconstrude as anything other then respectful.

" I am told she has returned to her fathers...farm. " He did however speak that with an air of distaste. To choose a life such as that over the one offered? He simply couldn't fathom it.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

A woman of power was a joy forever, much to the bane of the men who oft had a hand in putting them there. If she were a crafty, intelligent woman who could out think, outsmart, outwit, and frankly out kill everyone around her she deserved to comfortably sit on a little throne on a beautiful little dias for the rest of her natural life. The Lady Malacov, though not one of her most favorite personages, had earned her respect long ago. It was not easy to be raised within, in service of, and ultimately living within the Church. While it paid for her title she earned it and now the two of them were in a comfortable relationship uncomfortably wondering when the stay of that relationship would expire. Use only went so far as utter ruin. Whispers teemed beyond her other affairs of those seeking to be rid of Malacov. She prefered her own interesting position within the curtains of the crowned heads of Europe: a courtier whom with tradition revealed unusual education to her advancement as an advisor, an ambassador in lands allowing of such, at any rate her words were heeded which summarily earned her title, land, riches, etcetera and so forth. The pair of them would have made quite the duo were she they both not so contradictory by some inborn nature they were better distanced. It came down to the simple fact each had a sense of being far too large for one room together, and Claramae could not bring herself to lay with a parade of men who would inspire her to kill them quicker than was conducive to ends justifying means.


It could also be, each woman so buried beneath piles of finery and armor, that the woman inside of them would only reveal itself now with the passing of so many years. The mention of the name Wilhemia though did peak a brow. Oh glory! Brittany had thought herself indisposable when all she was was spoiled, which left the girl's mother highly vunerable when she did what no woman should do of her lover's child unless desired: concieve. Being the courtesan of His Holiness, the man who passed as the girl's father, Odis Scheiltz, was left to love the woe-be-gotten Brittany and the girl she bore. He obviously never did a good job of keeping her from what Brittany missed but it would take up too much thought to consider it now. At any rate a great to-do ensued with a farm girl who was really the daughter of His Holiness and those Templars who sought to supress or express that idea.

So as it was she stood on an island with a Cardinal looking for a daughter she did not know had returned, let alone it meant that Malacov let her go freely (though what did she think of her returning to a form God only knew) which they were now looking for, and no reason to be presented could really be good. Jolly. Scotland had indeed become the center of the known universe these last handful of years. "No Eminence, on this I am sorry I can not save you. I am aware of whom they are, the girl being the daughter of a former Chief Baliff, much beloved of their majesties. His service must have been long indeed to require such a touch as your own to see all is well." No, not outloud to say he was once a guard for His Holiness. "A farm?" The idea of Cardinal Hortence standing on ground sodden with Autumn rain near pigs and chickens was as laughable as it actually was tragic. He just didn't belong there. "If I should come across such as would be benefitial to you however might I have leave to inform you?"

She lived in a cold place with rolling hills of green and overwhelming scores of commoners, an exceptionally curious rate of reviving artforms and inspiring new ones, and all the while getting itself in to trouble. The King and Queen kept quite a stable of inclined servants to boldly go toward the unseen.(God forbid Hortense fall in with the Gilded Lily's, as Shaden would distract him for days on end. Though that might prove useful at some later juncture) It was not the proximity of old ties that bothered her so much as every piece of trouble in the world fell around like iron fillings! Out of good taste it was simply not the place to mention her long list of political clout to move those with clout to make results. In her possession were items of incrimination from lax church authority figures who had to be dispelled whom Rome certainly hadn't missed. Oh dear. This would make her 'retirement' to the country all the more interesting. She did say she would not go to the continent on cases anymore. No one said anything of them falling in to her pretty little lap.

It was here she had the standing resources to web across both country and continent even better than she admittedly had living on it. He, Prince of the Church, was not without his same connections. While the era of militant force had come and gone, while she would not be found haunting the rooftops...it only meant she would be where she belonged. On marble floors, behind pillars and doors. Bowed in a dance as a room fell dead. It was as always to be a battle of wits. That said she respected Hortense for his wit. If he managed to emass a collection of beauty than he had the right to enjoy it if none took it from him.

"Given the morning's hour moving higher onward would you like to take a repast since the services have concluded?"

[Wilhemia]

He lifted a brow and shook his head. " I fear no, I have little will to remain here any longer then I must. " he explained quietly. The eyes finally lifted from the beauty beside him to look to the lad who had arranged the carriage.

Hortense was not here for political reasons, or well none that conspired against or for any throne. None that would be spoken of aloud. Instead he was asked by a friend to take care of a situation for him. While in the past there had been some situations that required no breath to remain within the ah.. subject matter. This was something completely different. It was odd, in his minds eye. The girl had turned her back upon a given opportunity, what happened to her from that point, should be left in the hands of God.

Yet, his Holiness could not leave it as such. While he had not mourned the loss of Brittany, she was one among many, false and eager to please. It left little room in the empty head of hers to be anything but accomidating. Which pleased His Holiness to no small end, until the child.

If the truth were known it was Hortense that pointed out Odyses for the task of protecting the woman and unborn child. He had seen the man watch her from afar, he had warned Odyses against this, yet he spoke as a man far to smitten to care. How abusive it must have been for him, to withstand the anger built within Brittany's small mind. For all he had heard, she often blamed Odyses for her exile. Not her own stupidity.

" Chief Baliff? " He lifted a brow and gave a small nod. " The man was stalwart and strong, excellent sense of duty in which has brought me here. His Holiness has sent me with a wage that would match what her Father earned while in the services of the Church, to see her provided for. " He spoke with a dry tone to his voice.

He had no doubts that the lovely Clarmae next to him would understand completely what was happening and why. Just as certainly she knew that this was.. priviledge to know such.. yet of all here he knew that she would be one to watch over the girl, perhaps? If one could ever really could. Willful girl..just as her Mother was.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

"That is generous, exceptionally so. May your endevors go well then. If I should learn anything I will tell you at once," with a delayed reaction but he had no reason to believe it wouldn't be forthwith. Not that he couldn't get what he wanted. She began to wonder if the girl then was in broad daylight. Young people were so terribly stubborn. "You are a man of the world yet the world arguably is Rome, where you are most at home. How long do you anticipate it to take? God forbid, it is already October." Inclimate weather increased in the autumn season, then followed by winter? What a foul time to make such a long voyage. "I hope you will do all you may within a time most fitting to the Lord's will, for all of your comfort too. If you will not to repast, we shall not keep you longer, my household and I." She entrusted her other hand atop of his for keeping,lowering her body in to a curtsy as did the rest of her guards and maids.

A pension equal to what he earned in the service of the papacy for the daughter of a beloved Guard? Story went he didn't pay very well to have Brittany taken off of his hands when she was sent in to exile, nor did word ever cross the road of the woman being called back after the child was born. Curioser and Curioser.

She saw his carriage being prepared, and her own was just perpendicular. Good shape instead of some odd angular box. Decorated, instead of merely studded outer wood. Carvings of ivy at the top and bottom, a coat of arms upon the door. The interior must have been lined with some sort of sinful, buttery something to sit on. Heated bricks waited, a fur as the wind did begin to pick up. "I look forward to at least one other interlude, your Eminence, before your depature to Rome. God go with you and we bid you good day." She stood, her hand slipping away. Of course he would pass them first, He was his Eminence. The question would be if he would let her pass by that easily. What did he remember? Her height hadn't changed, but the dress accented all that was good in the figure while exposing nothing improper, still. She was always the pinacle of fashion artfully altered to suit her taste. She showed far less skin than those in a Roman gathering, but what had been seen counted. The neckline, for once not as high as his memory could recollect showed the white column that consisted of a neck and throat. Amen no?

[Wilhemia]

It was not for the wanting to come back, however it was agreed upon that Brittany was not premitted back within Rome for her folly. Her anger had been what sparked off the initial hunt for her and her daughter. Thus putting Odis in a terrible position of continually moving them from place to place. Finally taking remote lodgings away from people entirely .. all due to Brittany's mouth. Not to put too find a point on it.

Hortense listened and gave a small nod. " I am grateful for your assistance. " He spoke softly as she and her company however dipped into a curtsy, he offered himself a slow bow to her as well. As for the wages, no, Odis was not given much to take Brittany away, given the circumstances , none would have veiwed it out of place for her to have simply.. disappeared permenatly. Her life was a parting gift from the Most Holy, yet she had refused believe that.

Yet the wages as a daughter? Were slightly more substancial. That was personal business however. " Then by all means My dear Lady, please.. allow me to no longer impede your meal. " he spoke gently and lifted her hand at this point to a fraction of an inch away from his lips. He did not kiss it, but merely allowed the warmth of his breath to pass across the gloved knuckles. He released her hand and looked to the novice that waited still.

" Let us go. "he stated as he paused a moment and looked back to Clamare. " I have hopes of spending only one more night here.. perhaps I can make it two.. and take the day tomorrow to speak with you.. meet the man that has so delightfully stolen the heart of such a proud beautiful woman. "He unabashfully complimented her. He quirked that grin again, before turning letting the red flare around him as he walked with his own importance.

Prince of the church.. he rather liked that. It had a delightful ring to it .. didn't it?

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

"I will make sure to return to the Cathedral for the pleasure of your audience, Eminence. Safe travels." One inch from the top of his hand with only his breath to do what mouth did not. One inch, but had it not been the same with only the air above his ring impacted in kiss-like gesture? What might have been if she were not a daughter of God strict in the morals of women's virtue? She was never the mistress of men of the church, princes or kings, chamberlains and stewards..but it never meant she had never consented to give herself when it was of her own desire. She had never been his mistress, but she had been a man's mistress as he had been her paramour. "The Duke will be most pleased to have such a wordly, yet godly man in company. Until then Eminence." Worldly yet Godly, perfectly fitting.

The party would do the same, assemble itself so that the senior most Voltaire was at the left to sheild her from the open street as they walked to where the carriage was, and Claudio Voltaire on the right. Just a step behind the Lady Bromheilde Voltaire (of some year or two now, at last) just behind left ear's shell with the younger girl her niece Gretchen on the right behind Claudio. Ever in the center was the Madame., nothing was something with them. For once all of them would embark in to the carriage, save his son whom had the honor of riding his horse alongside as the outer watch. His wife and niece on one side, he sat with Claramae on the other:

"You could leave it alone, Diamante. You are within your rights to do so. Lands beyond the city now, an estate on it and a large household within the city. With this and his majesty's generous contribution to your coffer, already running over, you are obligated to do very little save to watch and bring the others out to do for you. In fact you have not even made a return to parliment just yet, with your mending.."

"I intend to do just that, Master Voltaire," Lord was civic, they were at business after all. "My husband nor brother would be pleased if I delved too deeply."


"Yes. The Avarian would kill something and we need not the mess, and the Frenchmen would raise all matter of holy hell if but were harmed again. The recovery has not been easy for any of us. Yet you must still keep a close watch, to see his expectations are as he remembers if not better. You were very young then, Diamante," age granted him the privelege of affection. If any man could live to stand as a fatherly figure, it was Maxamillion Voltaire, more Italian than German, and German enough to become indignant when angered. "He no doubt has more reach as you have more reach. It is a worthy playing field. It has been a very long time since you could wage wits, not war. This end of the world is rife with more war than wit, but you have done more than enough wit to quantify a match with him. He is not looking for a match really, but you always end up crossing them. Some things never change." He grinned, rubbing his fingers over her hand as the carriage moved on its way out of the city on its return to Northampton, not far from the city at all.

Wit and not war. Wit was its own kind of war and it was because of her wit Hortense had a respect, if not burning flame of desire, for. "You are right, Maxamillion," she allowed herself his familiarity. Only with the closest, only the closest. "I do not know what it will bring but I know what we must begin to look for. A journeyman will do, to uncover this little mystery and where it is on this island, not if..where. Erstwhile not yet, but perhaps within range of this time with the cardinal, it is time I believe for the peerage to be reminded that I am quite delighted to be home."