Isabella sat beside Duke Valerio—opposite her was Archduke Felix. They hadn’t been expecting this arrangement, but the archduke had been waiting outside of the estate when they left it. There was a matter that he wished to speak about, and so they had suggested that he ride along in their carriage as they journeyed to the archbishop’s cathedral.

  “I’m sorry to see that you’re unwell, Your Highness,” the archduke said. “Being ill is seldom a pleasant thing, and when it is, only because it allows us to shirk troublesome duties.”

  “Valerio has taken good care of me,” Isabella said. She was beginning to get better, but she still felt quite weak.

  “Valerio,” Felix repeated, looking at him. “You speak informally to one another already.”

  Isabella shifted in her seat, realizing that she’d grown very comfortable the past week or so in Valerio’s mansion. Beyond his home, the world would not be so forgiving of mistakes. The elites expected propriety of her, and if she couldn’t provide, she would suffer. A good reminder before meeting the archbishop.

  “What is this about?” Valerio asked, his arms crossed. He’d been quite angry since the Inquisitor had stopped by this morning.

  Felix looked between the two of them. “Duke Albert and Archbishop Pius have joined hands.”

  Isabella felt her stomach sink upon hearing that news. “You’re sure of that?”

  “Very sure. Though the two of you have received an Inquisition, I’ve received some vague threats from the archbishop. The short of it is this—either I cease supporting your auction house, or I’ll be subject to an Inquisition the same as you.” Felix shook his head. “The balance of power has shifted drastically. We’re not fighting with Duke Albert alone anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain of that, Your Grace,” Valerio said, giving a smile that showed his canines. “You’re the prime minister. And there are as many nobles that have disputes with the church as there are ones that have their favor. If the two of us—”

  “Why?” Felix interrupted, looking between them. “What’s in it for me?”

  Isabella and Valerio went silent, then glanced at one another. For a few moments, the only sound was the steady rumbling of the carriage.

  “Monopolizing the artistry of a new age isn’t sufficient?” Isabella questioned.

  “I’ve judged that the loss from engaging in a fight with Albert and Pius is less than the benefit received from the auction house,” Felix said. “It seems obvious to me that Duke Albert is throwing in with Pius only because of the two of you. I might pursue the matter of an auction house on my own…”

  Isabella took a deep breath when he said that.

  “…but I won’t,” Felix said. “I don’t want conflict with you, Duke Valerio, nor do I want any from the church. Thus, I’m afraid that this project of ours cannot go forward. It’s just not in my interests. I have enough of my hand as the prime minister, and head of the royal council.”

  Valerio looked as though he was going to say something, but Isabella put her hand on his arm so she could speak.

  “What if the church ceased to be a problem?” Isabella asked.

  “Then things would return to as they were before, Your Highness,” Felix said. “And I was an eager investor days ago.”

  Isabella glanced at Valerio, then back at Felix. “Given your unreliability, even if you intend to invest the same amount you do now, I have to insist upon a 60/40 ownership split when we renegotiate things.”

  Felix furrowed his brows, red eyes glinting. “When we renegotiate?”

  “Indeed. If you can’t carry your weight now, it’s only reasonable,” Isabella said.

  Felix laughed, and Valerio looked at her with a raised brow. Isabella held her stare firmly.

  “From where I’m sitting… it seems to me that you’ll have to do everything you can not to be buried alive. The church has a stranglehold on the people and the lesser nobles, and they’re the very foundation of the kingdom,” Felix said, a skeptical scorn in his tone.

  “We’ll see,” she said.

  The carriage came to a stop. Isabella looked outside to see the cathedral of the archbishop looming large. She opened the door.

  “Now, please be on your way,” she said. “I have some things to discuss with Valerio.”

  Felix didn’t say anything as he left. The moment he was outside, she shut the door back.

  “I quite like when you get like that,” Valerio said, looking at her. “Fire in your eyes, sparks on your tongue. Something very fun tends to happen.”

  Isabella shook her head tiredly. “I do have the beginnings of an idea, but… that was mostly just bluster,” she admitted. “This is bad. The church can subject you to heavy observation until we give them what they want. And if it’s Albert involved…” She glanced at him, an unspoken question in her gaze.

  If it’s Albert involved, there was only one thing that they really wanted: separating Isabella from him. Valerio now had an excellent reason to distance himself from her, and not a single good reason to stay. She had brought him one of the only things that he didn’t want: attention, close scrutiny. Duke Albert had chosen the most effective course of attack.

  “We can handle it,” Valerio said steadfastly.

  He sounded resolute. But as they got out of the carriage, Isabella couldn’t help but wonder if her only support was going to crumble beneath her feet as quickly as it had appeared. She supposed this would be the test.

  Isabella would place her trust in him.

  ***

  Archbishop Pius sat on a dais as he looked down upon Valerio and Isabella. He reviewed some documents that had been set before him.

  “As befits royalty, I’m going to involve myself personally to ensure the charges are fair and just for this initial hearing. Thereafter, Knight-Commander Gaspar will be conducting your Inquisition.” Pius looked between them. “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

  Isabella shook her head, but Valerio spoke up. “Can we delay this until Isabella feels well again? She’s currently going through a period of sickness,” he asked.

  Pius fixed his white eyes on Valerio. “I’m afraid not. The gods wait for no man. If there’s nothing else?” He looked between them for protest, then read his papers. “Very good. Given your close proximity, we’ve decided to try you together to ease the logistical burden placed upon the church. Then… let’s begin reviewing the justifications.” He read briefly. “For Duke Valerio, the most concerning matters for us is your lack of a bishop presiding over your domain.”

  Duke Valerio tried not to let his disbelief show, but he still scoffed somewhat. “My domain has no population to preside over. Why would we need a shepherd if there are no sheep? That’s simply—"

  “Speak when asked a question, Duke,” Pius said as if scolding a child. He stared for a while, as if daring Valerio to protest. “As I was saying… despite being a duke, you have not one bishop serving in your territory. Secular rulers cannot adequately address the theological needs of the laymen. This is an issue that needs to be rectified with the utmost speed. Our records display that you pay no tithes whatsoever. Despite this, you own several shipping vessels. How many ships do you own, Duke Valerio?”

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  “Twenty-two,” Valerio supplied.

  “Twenty-two,” marveled Pius. “Extraordinary. That’s rivalling the wealthiest merchant families in Ambrose. No other duke possesses as many ships as you do. I suspect the incomes from these ships must be substantial… not to mention your enterprises in Ambrose and elsewhere. Is the king aware of this?”

  “I pay my customs to the crown, same as any other merchant,” Valerio said.

  “Yet not a coin you earn comes to the church, in any fashion.” Pius shook his head. “Well, Gaspar will delve deeper into this matter.” He switched through various papers.

  “For Her Highness Isabella, we need to ensure that royal chastity is not being violated. This is a matter of great concern, as she’s currently living in an estate with another man who is not her direct relative.” The archbishop looked at her coldly. “For the next few months at least, our nuns will inspect you every day to be sure that you’re displaying no signs of pregnancy. Perhaps this sickness of yours has a source, Your Highness?”

  Isabella saw Valerio’s gloved hand clench in anger.

  “Beyond that, I leave the investigation of your moral character to Knight-Commander Gaspar,” Pius continued. “You are to comply with his requests, and give him free rein of your territory. He will assess both your moral and spiritual character, and seek to correct any deviations in your behavior.” He straightened his papers. “Except in the event of pressing circumstances, these conditions will come into effect on the morrow.”

  Pius looked between them, and he looked like he thought he’d already won. It was certainly a very heavy blow.

  “You are dismissed,” Pius said, waving his hand.

  Valerio looked furious as he turned, but was considerate enough to stay and help her walk. They did so in silence for a time, until Isabella said something to him.

  “Let’s find a place to talk,” she said decisively. “Except in the event of pressing circumstances, he said… and you know what that means?”

  ***

  They had naturally gone to the patissier where Valerio had brought her once before. This time, she ordered what he did—the chocolate cake. She viewed it as an incredibly pleasant treat after the bland yet healthy meals she’d been enduring while she was sick. She felt a great deal better already now that the morning had passed, yet still nevertheless drained.

  “The archduke is right,” Isabella said as she cut through the fragile cake with a fork. “This is more than just condemnation for the artwork. Albert and Pius are going to be coming for your head. They’re going to try and have you excommunicated by any means possible. Once it gets to that point, the king will have no choice but to put you on trial. Mandate from divinity is the very justification by which a king and their nobility rule—it’s incredibly important for harmony between church and crown.”

  “King Edgar I himself pardoned me,” Valerio said. “He’s the head of faith. There’s nothing I’ve done since then against the tenets of the faith.”

  “Nothing?” she asked pointedly.

  “Well…” Valerio toyed with his food. “Nothing that left evidence.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Isabella shook her head. “In matters of faith, the king is only a figurehead. In reality, the archbishop is at the top of the hierarchy—and as you’ve seen, the church has become more a political institution than a theocratic one. Pius himself has a bastard who he enriches with his position. The archbishopric might as well be considered an elective lordship.”

  Valerio listened. “So… what should I do?”

  Isabella blinked in surprise. “You’re leaving it to me?”

  “As I’ve said before, your political instincts put mine to shame,” Valerio said. “I trust your judgment. In this arena, you’re vastly superior to me.”

  “Abandon me.” Isabella said flatly. “Break the engagement, return me to the royal palace. That’s the cleanest way.”

  Valerio’s face grew serious. “No.”

  Isabella pushed aside her meal to lean in closer. “And what if Pius questions your claims about there being no population in your domain? What if he sends Gaspar to inspect your territory, and he finds that you’ve been using it as a departure point to ship goods to Roderick’s people?”

  Valerio held her gaze. “That stretch of sea? Shallow waters, unpredictable storms... no one asks too many questions when a ship goes under. Bad luck, they call it. Terrible, terrible luck.” He smiled. “Nature’s funny that way. Doesn’t leave much room for... investigations.”

  “And if Gaspar requests your personal escort to your territory?” Isabella asked. “Will you kill him, cast him overboard? No. I think not.”

  Valerio had no immediate response, but his gaze remained resolute. “We’ll find a way. I’m not throwing you to the sharks,” he said, perhaps the most irritated he’d ever been with her. “You must have another way.”

  Isabella couldn’t meet his gaze for a bit, and busied herself with her cake once more. Why would he do this? It was just… stupid. Logic told her that he was lying, that he was merely stringing her along until he could do it cleanly. But instinct told her to trust him. It felt very terrifying, extending this trust. But there was also hope—hope that this time would be different.

  “I do have another way.” It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. “The highest offices of the Eternal Church are corrupt. There’s no denying that. They act contrary to the Eternal Word in countless ways, Pius’ indiscretions among them. In the higher ranks, there is simony, pluralism, absenteeism, and a breakdown of celibacy.”

  “The breaks of celibacy are obvious, but…” Valerio leaned in, fascinated. “I’m lost, somewhat. Simony—sure, selling blessings for pocket change, I get it. But absenteeism, pluralism? You’ll have to dumb it down for me.”

  “In the context, pluralism refers to holding multiple bishoprics. Despite not being present to preside over these territories, they collect incomes from the title alone—and that ties into absenteeism. Countless bishops are paying educated men to preside over their bishoprics on their behalf, collecting the incomes from tithes all the same. As for celibacy… Pius himself instituted a ‘concubinage fee.’ An ordained priest need only pay a fee as recompense for breaking his vow of celibacy. Pay the fee, keep the concubine.”

  “Interesting.” Valerio thought for a moment. “I’d assumed the provinces were too poor for proper corruption. Shows what little imagination I have.”

  “You shouldn’t take what I say to mean that the faith itself is corrupt, top to bottom,” Isabella cautioned. “Indeed, those in the middle—the educated laypeople, and countless clergy throughout Dovhain— practice the faith well and true, and increasingly view the archbishop’s court with disdain. And therein lies our opportunity.”

  Valerio stared into her eyes. “How do you know all of this? You spoke of your isolation.”

  Isabella paused. She couldn’t say that she was describing the justification for a heretical uprising that received incredibly widespread support in her last life. It had weakened the ascendant theological faction which had seemed poised to utterly dominate the royal court and all within it. But there was one thing that she could point to—the spark of the fuse.

  “Do you have a pen and paper?” she asked.

  Valerio looked around. “I’m sure we can find one.”

  After a brief chat with the staff, a quill pen, ink, and paper were brought to her. Isabella wrote something down, and then slid it over to Valerio.

  Valerio studied it, and then looked up. “What’s this language?”

  “The liturgical language of the Eternal Church, Elestian,” Isabella explained, taking back the paper. She wrote the translation just beneath it in the Dovhain tongue. “Only the clergy learn it, generally. Translated… it means this.” Isabella slid the paper back over.

  Valerio took the paper. “Alistair of Veymont.” He looked back to her. “Is that a name? I’m unfamiliar.”

  “This bishop published a thesis called Hexas Veydrimor–the Six Errors—to address the moral failings of the church,” Isabella said. “Criticisms of the church are generally received, then widely discussed. His Six Errors in particular have received widespread discussion of late. The church prefers to handle criticism internally. Critiques are written and debated in Elestian to avoid airing the dirty laundry of the church to the laymen. The hierarchy receives them, debates them, and then reforms if necessary.” Isabella held up the paper with the translation. “If we translate his Six Errors, and then proliferate it using the printing houses…”

  Valerio smiled as he realized the implication. “You think this thesis is going to have an impact.”

  Frankly… she thought it might, but she wasn’t certain. It wasn’t as simple as one document. Alistair, in frustration with the church’s response to his thesis, had gradually escalated his views until Pius summoned him to stand trial. He was eventually excommunicated. Thereafter, the boy king’s regency council had burnt him at the stake. That was how things always were—the church condemned, but the nobility dirtied their hands with the execution. That time, however, Alistair’s proliferation of ideas beforehand made the Veymont Uprising begin after his death.

  Isabella didn’t want to cause an uprising, but she did want to shake the foundations of the church enough that Pius couldn’t afford to pick a fight. She could translate the Six Errors, but if she really wanted to cause lasting problems, she needed to see if Alistair was up to the task of being the powerful orator that she’d once known him as.

  Perhaps, by manipulating things in this fashion, she could prevent the bloodshed of her last life.

  “If the church wants to come for us… then we simply have to strike preemptively.” Isabella put a large slice of chocolate cake in her mouth.

  Valerio smiled proudly as Isabella chewed the cake. It tasted quite delicious.