Seeing that the Crown Prince of France was still staring at his teacup without a flicker of expression, Pius VI's voice began to tremble.
"At most, Ravenna as well."
He spread his hands. "This is the Holy See's bottom line, Your Highness."
Ferrara, Bologna, and Ravenna amounted to nearly seventy percent of the Papal States' territory north of the Apennine Mountains.
Together with 1.2 million Ducats—eleven million Francs—as "War Reparations," it was no small sum.
"This tea lacks flavor." Joseph suddenly swirled his teacup. "Eman, bring me the Black Tea Archbishop Muzarelli sent."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Joseph looked again at the Pope. "Would you like a fresh cup as well?
"Mm, although this tea is exceedingly precious, it is not irreplaceable."
Pius VI felt as though every word spoken by this young man weighed upon him like a mountain, crushing his back until he could no longer straighten it.
After a long while, he suddenly clenched his fists, raised his head, and cried out, "No one will support that traitor and conspirator!
"I alone represent the legitimate Holy See!
"If you continue to pressure me like this, France will incur the hostility of more than a hundred million Christians across Europe!"
Joseph smiled.
He leaned forward slightly and said calmly, "Your Holiness, may I ask how many divisions you have?"
"W-what?"
"Infantry, cavalry, artillery," Joseph said. "Including the Holy See's own Guard and any foreign forces willing to answer your call—how many divisions do you have?"
Pius VI was stunned by the bluntness of the question. He clenched his fists even harder, only to realize in astonishment that the Holy See could not raise even a single division...
Of the Roman Curia's three traditional pillars, Spain was allied with France and had only recently declared that it would never interfere