No matter how much Redrick gritted his teeth, Rafael’s life continued to move on.

    Julius would come by every day at a set time to eat with him. Of course, sometimes there would be other important guests joining their meals. This kind of dining was more like a social event, and filling his stomach was the last thing on his mind.

    Rafael had long been accustomed to such an arrangement. His days were divided into segments of varying lengths, each precisely allocated to different activities, from regular church prayers and blessings to papal sermons, to receiving visitors, to social dining, to handling paperwork, and adjusting the following day’s schedule...

    Every night before bed, Julius would bring over the next day’s itinerary and read it aloud to Rafael. Rafael paid partial attention and frowned when he heard a certain item: “...Grand Prayer? It seems like we have a lot of blessings scheduled lately.”

    Julius nodded, “As the newly appointed pope, you need to show yourself to the public more often to cultivate a positive image and make them like you more—you’re naturally good at that.”

    This unnecessary remark made Rafael glance at him sharply, and his eyes clearly revealed a different meaning.

    He had never expected Julius to give him such an assessment: ‘good at making people like him’? Rafael almost laughed. In all his years, from his previous life to this one, he had never expected to receive such a compliment.

    Even when he was trying his best to disguise himself, even when he was on the verge of having his mask become a part of his face, he didn’t believe he was particularly likable.

    He was born into a lowly family, with a physical disability, and a cold heart. He had relied on his relatively attractive appearance to navigate the social scene, using the social skills he had learned to get along with everyone, and imitated Julius’s smile and demeanour. After pretending for a long time, he had almost convinced himself that he was just like everyone else.

    But he knew very well in his heart that a fake will always be a fake. His false sweet words and artificially disguised nobility would never be the same as the real ones. That was why; despite being surrounded by so many people, he could not count on even a single true friend at the end.

    This was nothing. Rafael was well aware of his true nature and had no complaints about it. Yet, when he heard Julius’s comments, he still felt a sense of absurdity from the bottom of his heart.

    The feeling was so absurd that for a moment, Rafael didn’t know what to say. He stared at Julius for two seconds before suddenly feeling a pain in his leg. Wincing and bending down, he complained, “...It hurts.”

    Unlike the coldness he showed when talking to Julius just now, his words were now as coquettish as a child.

    The young pope was currently seated on a long, soft chair, a type of reclining chair that had been popular since the ancient Roman era. It was paired with a short, intricately carved side table, perfect for nobles to recline and reach for food. The table was laden with an assortment of fresh fruits: olives, apricots, grapes, apples, oranges, and tangerines. With the advent of greenhouses and fruit conservatories, there were even a few slices of watermelon on porcelain platters.

    Rafael sat on the recliner, showing little interest in the dazzling array of expensive fruits. His clothes were pulled up, revealing his slender, pale calves. An old man with messy gray hair and a beard sat cross-legged on a thick Assyrian carpet, applying pressure to the pope’s leg in a rhythmic pattern.

    That was why Rafael had cried out in pain just now.

    “Please believe me, Your Holiness, this is necessary,” the white-bearded old man said with a stern expression. He showed no fear or respect for the pope, instead adopting a tone that seemed to scold a disobedient child. “If you had followed my medical advice and taken your medicine and massages regularly, or gotten enough rest, you wouldn’t be in this situation. But I expected as much. After all, young people will never take an old man’s words seriously.”

    Rafael offered a helpless smile: “Polly...”

    “Please call me dr. Polly, Your Holiness.” The stubborn old doctor was unwilling to accept the plea his disobedient patient.

    Rafael subconsciously turned to the only other person present, seeking help. Before he realized that his intimate behaviour was inappropriate, Julius gave him a helpless expression.

    The best doctor in the Portia family is Polly. This old man, who is already in his fifties, came from a family of doctors. He had a strong sense of adventure and innovation, and in his youth, he dreamed of being a pirate. So, he packed his bags and excitedly boarded a ship bound for the East, disappearing into the foreign lands for ten years. Everyone thought he had died at sea or in a foreign country, but unexpectedly he returned alive—and brought back medical skills from the mysterious East.

    After Rafael underwent bone-setting surgery, he was bedridden for a month, fainting and waking up in agony every day. The doctors were helpless about the condition of the Pope’s son. In the end, it was the experienced Polly who stepped forward. He performed a second surgery on Rafael and took on the subsequent care work, carefully protecting Rafael’s right leg using Eastern massage and rehabilitation techniques.

    It can be said that Rafael was still able to walk today, thanks in large part to Polly.

    For a long time, Rafael and Polly were almost inseparable. Rafael had no resistance to this old man who simply cared about him. The fearless wolf cub would only cry in pain in front of Polly.

    Polly still had an angry look on his face. While grumbling, he carefully searched for the acupoints on Rafael’s leg and pressed them with moderate force.

    The man who once sneaked out of his home and boarded a pirate ship under the pirates’ noses said proudly.

    Rafael looked at him helplessly, his lavender eyes blinking softly, his expression like an innocent and pitiful kitten, just waiting for the human to give in and surrender as he had done thousands of times before.

    Who could resist the attack of such beauty?

    Julius turned his face away without a trace, hearing Polly’s cold voice: “Starting tomorrow.”

    ——This man actually resisted!

    Rafael’s eyes changed, full of disbelief and incomprehension.

    Ah, to use an analogy, an invincible cat actually encountered a human who is indifferent to it acting cute. This can easily cause the kitten’s worldview to collapse, creating the illusion that ‘something must be wrong with this person’.

    Anyway, everyone can have problems, but cats can never have problems.

    Seeing that the method that had always worked before had lost its effect, the young Pope sighed helplessly, nodded and succumbed to the doctor’s intimidation: “Alright, I’ll remember it.”

    Polly packed up his medicine box, carried it and went out. After taking two steps in the corridor, he stood still as if struck by lightning. He took a few long, deep breaths and said to himself, “Incredible. I almost got fooled. It was so close...”

    The old man, full of relief, left along the corridor, his faltering figure slowly melting into the dim light.

    The two people in the room fell into a period of silence. In the end, it was Rafael who took a step back and extended his right hand to Julius.

    Perhaps because of Polly’s arrival just now, he was reminded of the time when he was taken care of by Julius, something he hadn’t thought about in a long time. For once, he didn’t want to think about those complicated things.

    Julius naturally grasped his hand and placed it on his shoulder, helping the young Pope walk slowly to the bed.

    Rafael’s long, satin-like golden hair, cascaded down his back, and the loose strands brushed against Julius’s neck, sending a cool tingle that made the Portia Patriarch momentarily distracted.

    When Rafael had just finished surgery, he was bedridden and had to rely on servants everywhere. Julius had carried him a few times. Back then, the young man was thin and frail, his golden hair soft, and he could feel his bony frame when he was nestled in his arms. But after Rafael recovered, they rarely had such intimacy.

    Lost in thought, Rafael had already reached the bedside and moved himself onto the bed.

    Julius looked around and saw that there was indeed nothing else he needed to do, so he said goodbye softly.

    “Goodnight, I wish you a wonderful dream.”

    Rafael looked at him. Julius’s meticulous iron-gray hair was slightly disheveled from his touch, and there were some wrinkles on his collar. Looking at the Portia Patriarch’s head, who was, for once, not so well- kempt, Rafael finally showed a slight but genuine smile.

    “Goodnight, Julius.”

    The Pope’s voice was very calm and gentle, and when he speaks without any negative emotion, it sounded like an angel whispering.

    Julius left the Pope’s bedchamber, closed the door himself, and casually instructed the guards on either side, “Be more vigilant tonight. If His Holiness has any problems, report to me immediately.”

    The guard nodded, and Julius stood facing the closed door for a while. After a long time, he suddenly felt that his behavior was quite foolish and inexplicable, so he quickly left.