Jeanne had no idea how Pope Yvangelista reacted after reading the materials she left behind. Over the next several days, the old man was nowhere to be seen, seemingly overwhelmed with endless duties.
While the Pope remained occupied out of sight, the shifts sweeping through the Holy City were obvious. Most noticeably, the sound of random explosions filling the air had dwindled significantly. Laterano officials had clearly put a temporary dampener on their citizens' explosive festivities—after all, causing an accidental injury during such a critical international gathering would turn into a diplomatic incident.
At the same time, the streets grew populated with foreign visitors. Their distinct garments and unique cultural flourishes quickly caught the eye of the local Sankta, influencing local artisans. Jeanne could tell just by looking at the shop displays filled with souvenirs designed in various foreign styles.
"This is crafted with remarkable detail," Logos observed, pausing beside a storefront, clearly intrigued by the merchandise. "I think I'll pick up a few for the young ones on Rhodes Island. I promised I'd bring them back souvenirs from Laterano."
Standing beside him, Jeanne pressed a hand to her forehead, utterly at a loss for words. Why on earth did I lose my mind and bring him to this specific store? What was I thinking?
Wait... coming to this shop hadn't even been her idea!
Jeanne glanced to her side, where a blue-haired Angel stood with a light, easygoing smile. If Jeanne wasn't mistaken, there was a subtle glint of satisfaction in Mostima's eyes, as though a mischievous plan had just succeeded.
"If you're interested, I can help you place a pre-order," Mostima offered, introducing local products with a polite smile while completely ignoring Jeanne's awkwardness over having her own likeness sold as a local souvenir. Jeanne would have much preferred her to recommend the fruit tarts instead. "Though scale models of the Saintess are always in high demand here. You might have to wait until right before we leave Laterano to collect them."
"If it isn't too much trouble, please have them delivered directly to the Rhodes Island landship. I'll file a transport contract with Penguin Logistics when the time comes," Logos replied smoothly. He was genuinely intent on buying a batch as keepsakes.
Jeanne could only turn her gaze toward the bustling crowd. The number of foreign visitors gathered in this sector was noticeably higher than elsewhere; it seemed this district had become one of Laterano's primary showcase hubs for international guests.
"I didn't expect to run into you here. It has been a while, Lady Jeanne," a familiar voice with a distinct Ursus accent called out from behind her.
Jeanne turned around at the sound.
Standing before her was an Ursus gentleman—Speaker Witte of the Ursus Council. Jeanne recognized him instantly, though she was genuinely surprised that Ursus had sent such a prominent political figure to this summit.
"I certainly didn't expect you to travel here in person," Jeanne remarked, caught off guard by the presence of a statesman who had taken time out of an intensely packed schedule. "I assumed Deity Grypherburg would send an ordinary councilor."
She knew full well that Speaker Witte rarely left the capital of Deity Grypherburg. As Tsar Fyodor's right-hand statesman, he had spent years striving to maintain political stability across Ursus. Unfortunately, simply keeping that fragile balance intact demanded every ounce of his energy and intellect.
"Thanks to your efforts, the situation within Ursus has stabilized considerably," Speaker Witte replied warmly. "And when facing a disaster of global proportions, Ursus must step forward and state its position as a major empire should."
"His Holiness the Pope will be delighted to know you've arrived in person," Jeanne noted. Sending Speaker Witte signaled that Ursus took this summit with utmost seriousness—or perhaps, that they intended to forge new alliances here.
"I believe both sides will be pleased," Speaker Witte said with a solemn nod. "Whether for Ursus or Laterano, cataclysms and crises are never absent from this land. If we can find allies to stand shoulder-to-shoulder against these threats, it will carry profound meaning for us—and for every nation across Terra!"
As he spoke, his conviction carried an almost tangible warmth. Jeanne could only nod in agreement; his words were unassailable.
After a brief conversation, Speaker Witte took his leave alongside his messengers, intending to use his remaining free time to tour the Holy City.
"That man is the Speaker of Ursus?" Mostima remarked, stepping back to Jeanne's side once he had walked away. "He doesn't fit the image I had of Ursus officials."
"And what image did you have in mind?" Jeanne asked with a light laugh.
"The type to slam a blade into the table halfway through a sentence?" Mostima replied, half-joking. "For an empire that built its power on expansion and warfare, I didn't expect their high leadership to look so refined."
Part of her comment was grounded in reality, though most of it was just dry humor. She knew better than to judge a statesman purely by his outward composure.
"Are you thinking of an Ursus Speaker or a Siracusan mob boss?" Jeanne chuckled, shaking her head at Mostima's dramatic impression. "That's a bit too stereotypical, don't you think?"
"That's why it was a joke," Mostima shrugged. "It's not like I've had many dealings with Ursus."
Just then, her communicator chimed. She picked up the call, and her relaxed expression quickly sharpened into seriousness.
"Latest update," Mostima reported, closing the channel. "Victoria has finally chosen its representative for the summit. They're sending the Speaker of Parliament to act as a mouthpiece for the Grand Dukes."
There was no surprise in her voice. Anyone familiar with Victoria's internal state could have guessed this outcome—the Victorian nobility simply took a long time to accept the compromise.
In an era where the throne stood vacant, which duke wouldn't want to strut onto the world stage and elevate their house's prestige before all of Terra?
"They spent nearly a full month bickering over this single seat," Mostima sighed, her tone laced with exasperation. "And now we have to wait another week for them to arrive before the summit can officially open. Seriously, couldn't they just make a swift decision or pick someone without all this drama? Time is far too precious when a crisis is knocking on our door!"
Her words laid bare the frustration many felt toward Victoria. That the Grand Dukes still refused to set aside their internal power struggles during a global emergency was beyond baffling.
"At least they managed to reach a conclusion," Jeanne offered mildly. "If they had ended up dragging themselves into a civil war over who gets to attend, they probably would have tried to blame Laterano for it."
Jeanne didn't dwell on Victorian politics. In truth, she felt the main reason Victoria bothered sending anyone at all was because nearly every major realm on Terra was attending—including several superpowers they couldn't afford to ignore.
Had those superpowers not participated, Victoria likely would have sent a minor noble from the fringes of court to serve as a mere hollow placeholder.
"Still... if Victoria is arriving soon, does that mean Pope Yvangelista will meet with Logos tomorrow?" Jeanne asked, turning toward the Banshee Lord beside her.
The calm composure on Logos's face had visibly faltered.
"Yes... I was informed that His Holiness wishes to speak with me the day after tomorrow," Logos admitted, having just received the update from a messenger. He looked slightly rigid, caught somewhat off-guard.
"Is there anything specific I should keep in mind when speaking to the Pope?" Logos asked, raising the question once again. Even though he had asked before, he wanted to ensure he didn't commit a diplomatic blunder.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Jeanne reassured him with a soft smile. "The old man is quite easygoing once you get talking. Just interact with him as an envoy representing your people. You've surely attended summits like this before... Ah, right. I forgot you haven't had many chances for formal diplomatic meetings yet."
Jeanne had assumed he would be familiar with high-level audiences, but remembering how recently he had taken up his mantle before conflicts broke out across Kazdel, it made sense that he felt uncertain.
"Just use the same tone you use when talking to Kal'tsit," Jeanne suggested cheerfully. "And if things get awkward, you can always tell him about the chair sliding race. I'm sure the old man will be thrilled to hear about it!"
Logos: "..."