The Girl He Dumped Becomes a Billionaire.

Chapter 28

"I didn't realize that Midairine of Solins is quite a good talker." Abigail couldn't help but sigh on the way back after Marianne ended her conversation with Midairine, "In that case, it's a sure thing that you'll inherit the title of the Duchy of Britannia."

"Don't speak too soon, my dear Abigail." Surprisingly, Marianne did not show the enthusiasm she deserved for her alliance with Midelyn, instead her smile dissipated as she parted ways with Midelyn, "A verbal agreement can be revoked at any time, that is, if someone wants to take advantage of it in the future, they won't be able to find any evidence."

Marianne also glanced back at Abigail, reminding her not to be so naive, "An alliance based on interest has to be determined on a case-by-case basis to determine if it's strong or not. Especially an ally with as many options as Midelyn would never put all their eggs in the same basket."

"But why would Midelyn betray you." Abigail was puzzled by this, "It's not like she has any other allies in the Grand Duchy of Norsca."

"Who says she has no allies? If Henry wants to team up with her to take the Duchy of Britannia, then it's not necessarily true that Midelyn won't sell me out." Marianne still had that suspicious look, "After all, Henry has bound conjugal interests with her, even if they haven't consummated their marriage yet, but it's only for one night."

"If Henry is willing to make the same offer as I did, plus a Duchess of the Duchy of Britannia, then Myrddelin will definitely be on his side." Marianne grunted coldly, "Besides, if Henry had a clever cousin-uncle to show him the ropes, then the advantage I have would be disintegrated to nothing in a matter of moments."

"So what do we do?" Abigail was incredibly agitated by Marianne's words, "If Henry really is in cahoots with Richard of Solins, then they can force this female Duke of the Duchy of Britannia to sign a series of documents against you."

"Calm yourself, Abigail. Why do you think Richard is trying to test the Pope? If he could coerce my aunt into signing papers against me, he wouldn't be thinking of ways to marry me or kick me out of the first heir position before the other man has even breathed his last." Marianne could see further ahead than Abigail, "A man's dying, and even Richard, with all his skill, can't threaten a man who doesn't have days to live, and besides, we have a rather useful helper."

"Who?"

"The Pope and his sweetheart." Back in her room Marianne closed the door and lifted her quill ready to write a letter of request to someone.

Seeing this, Abigail rushed to get Marianne's seal from her safe.

"No seals, you can't leave proof of identity on a letter like this." Marianne gently shook off the excess ink and drew an intricate symbol at the beginning of the letter, "The reason why Mother Superior didn't want Henry to inherit the Duchy of Bretonia was to bolt a layer of insurance on the Grand Duchy of Norsca."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that the Duchy of Britannia and the Grand Duchy of Norsca cannot be inherited by one person." Marianne stopped writing and said in a single word, "Why else do you think my maternal grandparents didn't have a son? The Duchy of Britannia had a military power that could compete with Solins a few decades ago, and the Grand Duchy of Norsca is the richest country in the South. Once the two become one, then the balance of the four southern kings' rivalry will be upset. Even worse, both the Duchy of Britannia and the Grand Duchy of Norsca are stuck in the center of the continent, so the northern side will also intervene."

Speaking of which, Marianne also pressed her index finger against Abigail's lips, then wandered down the seam to the center of the young witch's forehead.

"Never trust someone's promises so easily at any time."

Marianne intoned, "Especially if the other person is nice to talk to."

Abigail froze in place for a few seconds until Marianne had finished the letter and she snapped back to her senses, "Is this letter addressed to the Pope?"

"The Pope has the Mother Superior on his side to arrange everything." Marianne dripped fire paint where the mouth of the envelope was, but it was not accompanied by the fire paint seal of the Grand Duchy of Norsca.

"Give this to Lucius and have him deliver it to the young Emperor of Odin through the Temple's internal network."

"Wait, who did you say this letter was going to?" Abigail thought she had heard wrong, "Odin's little emperor? Are you kidding?"

"I never joke about anything serious." Marianne resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "I know what you're thinking. But Odin's little emperor should help me out on this one."

"Why?"

"It's too much trouble to explain, and anyway, he'll support me in becoming a female duke of the Duchy of Britannia." Marianne recalled as best she could every word that Mydalene had told her, pondering whether she would be able to take Henry and Mydalene down in one fell swoop if the other side were to preemptively tear up the agreement before Richard could do anything about it.

"Maybe I should train Snow up." Marianne stared at Abigail's back as the Doctor and Snow came to mind.

Central Powers, Papal States.

It's a city that wants to make an exact copy of the temple ruins in the far north.

From the spire of the bell tower down to the lowest level of stone steps, it was all monotonous to the point of being boringly white.

And in this pure white that is about to melt into the air, the only thing that breaks the visual monopoly is the red uniform of the clergy. It was as if the blood flowing in the body of the gods, channeling the energy to maintain the prosperity of the teaching authority.

"Ah uh ......"

Somewhere in a room filled with the aura of lust, a lean male body rolled off the snake-like, supple woman, and after taking a few breaths of ragged air freely, wrapped his arms around the object of his incessant moaning from a moment ago, and whispered in the latter's ear, "It's time for you to go."

The man curled the other woman's crumpled hair that fell down her chest before pinning a check to the woman's right ear.

"You are such a heartless man who flips out when he gets out of bed." Although the woman grumbled on her lips, she still very obediently got up and dressed, then carefully put the check into her handbag and threw a flying kiss at the man on the bed before leaving the room, "I hope I can still spend the night with you in the future."

"Go on!" The man responded gently, and when the woman left, the attendant who had been guarding the door threw in a light gray robe, signaling the man to collect himself for a moment or two.

"His Holiness the Pope wants to receive you in the evening." Compared to the man on the bed, the attendant could be described as a proper person whose collar could rest against his chin.

However, it was such a decent person who had to clean up the endless mess for the man in front of him after entering the Pope's country.

"Don't always have a dead face! To the beloved Father Xavier." The man on the bed was wearing a gray cassock, but it showed most of his chest.

He looked like a god of ecstasy stepping down from a fresco, tumbling over the soft fabric with depraved sounds.

Flirted with by the man, Father Xavier believed for a moment the rumor that the Pope's lover was a phantom.

Though no one knew who fathered the Pope's two illegitimate daughters, many suspected that the Pope had bonded with a humanoid, given his unique appearance. This accusation lost credibility, however, when the Pope's illegitimate son, Dancil, entered the Matar Squire Training Camp.

As for the Pope's illegitimate daughter ......

Bishop Xavier thought of the beautiful girl dressed like a saintly maiden and forced himself not to show contempt in front of Dancier.

Did the Pope really want his illegitimate daughter to serve the gods?

I also wonder if the consecrated king of the gods and the king of Canterlot, who is betrothed to the pope's illegitimate daughter, would vomit in disgust.

"The look on your face reminds me of those repulsive bastards." Dancil curled one leg and let his long flowing black hair slide over his pale to bloodless skin.

Dancil narrowed his iron-blue eyes and his upturned neck reminded Father Xavier of a dying swan.

"That barbarian from Canterlot wore a similar expression to the one you're wearing now when he first met me." Dancil licked his lips, tempted to plunge a knife into Father Xavier's throat.

"I know what you're thinking, dear Father Xavier." Rising from the bed Dancil dressed and patted Father Xavier on the shoulder before heading out the door, almost biting the other man's ear as he whispered, "It's never a pleasure to serve a bastard."

The knot in Father Xavier's throat rolled gently and he assumed a submissive demeanor with his eyes downcast, "You are overly concerned, I will be loyal to all the Pope's decisions."

"Just loyal to all the Pope's decisions?" Dancil scratched Father Xavier's right cheek, seemingly absentmindedly, "When my father handed over the portraits of his entourage, I took an instant liking to you."

Father Xavier boldly met Dancil's eyes, trying to make something out of the other man's face.

However Dancier, who had lived in the Papal States since he was a child, was not something that Father Xavier, who had not been in the Papal States for long, could see through.

"We're all the lowly sluts they look down on." Dancil's voice dripped with a seduction that Father Xavier could not resist.

"Wouldn't you like to stand tall and enjoy the humiliated looks of those people, as I do?"

For the moment, all Father Xavier could hear was the sound of sparrows outside the window and the fountain in the garden.

"Your Excellency, I will follow your wishes." When Dancier was on the wrong side of him, Father Xavier finally vocalized, "Only the path of standing tall is not in your bed."

"Indeed it is not here." Dancil looked back at the disheveled bedspread, a look of deep disgust in his eyes, "But I have to find a bride for my front."

Remembering that Saez of Canterlot had smashed the engagement ring Marianne had sent back after her alliance with the Pope, Dancier had suddenly taken a keen interest in the "Forsaken Lady" who was to inherit the Duchy of Britannia.

"A bride from the Grand Duchy of Norsca."