Charlemagne's Delusion

An hour later.

Franz II knelt on one knee before Archbishop Chiaramonti, kissed the ring on his finger, and recited a prayer:

"My soul yearns for Your forgiveness and guidance. My life, thoughts, and deeds are all devoted to You... May all glory belong to God, now and forever, unto ages of ages..."

According to Catholic ritual, the one he knelt before was God.

Yet this also made his stance crystal clear.

In Schönbrunn Palace Square, Giacinto Reale stared at the palace gates before him, drawing several deep breaths while his hand trembled faintly.

He had received word that the Pope's envoy had already arrived in Vienna.

He should have gone to seek an audience with the Holy Roman Emperor before the envoy did, but his master, Muzarelli, had encountered a heavy snowstorm in Villach. By the itinerary, he would not be able to leave Austria until that afternoon.

For his master's absolute safety, he could only delay until now before coming to Schönbrunn Palace.

Yes, a week ago, a mysterious person had informed Muzarelli that the Pope had sent an envoy to Vienna—the messenger, too, had been caught in wind and snow. Otherwise, the message would have arrived several days earlier.

Muzarelli had immediately left Austria for the Papal States, leaving Reale behind to carry out an important task.

Reale was soon granted an audience with Franz II.

The Holy Roman Emperor's first words upon seeing him were, "Where is your master?"

"I believe he is nearly in Rome," Reale said with a bow.

"What?" Franz II was greatly alarmed. "Wasn't he giving a speech in Bratislava? Damn it!"

Reale's heart pounded wildly. Summoning his courage, he said, "Your Majesty, it seems you have already settled the terms with the Pope?"

Those familiar with his master all called him