Chapter 442 The relationship between the two saints is a bit bad

Four chestnut horses pulled a black-painted four-wheeled carriage with white edges and white spots on it on the road in the field. In front, behind, on both sides of the carriage were Holy Gun Cavalry wearing short cloaks and gendarmes wearing leather spiked helmets.

This was the result of Horn outsourcing the production of the Boys' Brigade uniforms to Madame Isolde, a local in Jeanne d'Arc.

Lady Isolde followed the tradition of the ancient El Kingdom and used decorations on the tips of helmets to distinguish different subordinates.

For example, the tip of the gendarmerie's spiked helmet is in the shape of a vertical shield, the tip of the night watchman's spiked helmet is a hooked spear, and the Cheka's spiked helmet has a vertical eye, but they don't wear them often.

Sitting in this luxurious carriage are naturally the current big shots in Rapid City, two cardinal-level saints and the Pope's grandson himself.

However, the two saints' current appearance is not very decent.

Jeanne had a stern face and said nothing. There were several tiny purple and swollen scars on her white arms, and her tight white shirt was torn in several places.

Catherine and Jeanne sat diagonally opposite each other with their heads turned to the window. Their long, originally smooth and silky hair was burnt by electricity and smelled of rotten eggs.

Horn was originally sitting next to Jeanne, but Jeanne looked like she didn't want anyone to get close to him, so he didn't dare to go near her. Instead, Catherine waved at him.

"Your Majesty, please help me cut my hair. It's all stuck together."

Catherine deliberately cut the hair on the back with her backhand, completely exposing the curved shape of her chest.

Horn hesitated for a moment, then sat down, took a pair of small scissors, and began to cut off Catherine's burnt hair.

"How sweet." He crossed his legs, making Na Xiao's eyes invisible. "Is it disturbing to you? Then I'll leave?"

"No, no." Horn quickly put down the scissors, sat back next to Jeanne, and said with a smile, "What sweetness? It's just a small favor."

"Yeah, go help her, she's injured so many hairs."

Where did you learn these words? Why haven't you heard them before? Why can't you write such long and difficult sentences with complex grammar when you do your homework?
Because the weather was too hot, sweat beads appeared on Horn's nose and cheeks. He wiped the sweat from his nose and philtrum with the base of his palm: "It's a bit hot. I'll sit over here."

Sitting back next to Jeanne, Horn took out the herbs, forcibly pulled Jeanne's hand, and applied the green ointment on the red and swollen wound.

"How's it going? Does it still hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt. Seeing you guys being so sweet, my heart feels like it's filled with honey. I don't feel the pain anymore."

"It hurts, it hurts, okay?" Horn slowly applied the cooling ointment, thinking that he was unlucky.

"Mulier stulta et barbara [Old Aiel: stupid and barbaric woman]." Looking at the woods and wheat fields passing by quickly outside the window, Catherine hummed in a voice that was not loud enough for Jeanne to hear clearly.

The corners of her lips, which were originally slightly raised, instantly bent down along with her eyebrows. When Jeanna stood up, she hit her head on the roof of the carriage.

Gritting his teeth, Horn quickly grabbed Jeanna's sleeve and pulled her to sit down: "Do you know what she is saying? She didn't say it to you."

"A lady from a wealthy family..." Jeanne suffered a loss due to her lack of education and gritted her teeth and sat back in her seat.

These merchants were the people she hated second only to the nobles.

Look at the pretentious manner and the shameless flowery clothes they wear. They are no different from common people, yet they try to imitate the nobles.

Aren't they the lackeys of the nobles? If it were up to Jeanna, these merchants shouldn't exist. Why let the craftsmen and laborers sell their own goods? Why let them get involved?

"Do you know what she just said?" Jeanne pursed her lips tightly and stared at Horn with a smile.

"I don't know. How would I know?" In fact, Old El is one of the required courses for priests. Although Horn is not as proficient as Catherine, he can still understand such simple sentences.

But he couldn't just say it directly. The two men were still in the carriage. When they were at the test site, they almost got into a fight under the pretext of "error". If they started another conflict, they would have to blow up the carriage.

Horn really couldn't understand why the two were fine when they first met and introduced themselves to each other.

Although we didn't hit it off right away, how could our relationship deteriorate so much in just three to five days?

This might have something to do with the fact that he took the initiative to get closer to Catherine. The witch was a high-end combat force, and the two of them got along well for some reason. Uniting the decision-makers was what should be done.

"Stulta."

"You're still mumbling." Jeanne said coldly.

After applying the medicine to Jeanne, Horn sat back next to Catherine, picked up a pair of small scissors and started cutting her hair. He whispered, "Say less, we have to meet the Frans' envoy later."

The corners of Catherine's mouth curved up like rippling water waves. She turned around gently and took the scissors from Horn's hand: "Then you should rest more, otherwise the carriage will be so noisy that it will disturb the subsequent talks."

Jeanne stared at Catherine's face for a long time. Although she felt that Catherine was scolding her, she could not find any evidence.

She took out a feather folding fan from her waist, opened it quickly, and covered her laughing mouth. Catherine looked at Horn through her glasses with her watery eyes: "You are such a smart and knowledgeable person. It must be very hard for you to stay with stupid people, right?"

Leaning back, Jeanna looked at Horn with a smile.

"Serving the believers." Horn pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I'm hungry. I'm going to get some water to quench my thirst. You guys stay here and don't move."

"Wait a minute, I have some water. You don't have to get off the carriage." Catherine took out a water bag from somewhere and handed it to Horn.

The exquisite outer layer of the leather water bag is covered with silk embroidery, and there is a silver wire ring on the mouth of the pot. You can tell at a glance that it is very expensive.

Horn coughed, took the water bag, drank a full sip and gave it back to Catherine: "Thank you."

Looking straight at Jeanne, Catherine picked up the water bag and took a sip without even wiping it, staring at Jeanne's face.

"Sister Jeanna, what are you looking at me for? Do you want to drink?"

"Old woman! I won't drink."

Horn could clearly see the corners of Jeanna's mouth tremble, and from the stand of hair on his arms, he could see that lightning so tiny that it was invisible was appearing in the air.

Catherine on the side was no less shocked. The moment she uttered the word "old woman", several young sprouts of vampire vines emerged from between her fingers.

Just when the atmosphere in the carriage was extremely tense, the carriage finally stopped.

In the dead silence, Horn sat there with a forced smile.

"Dangdangdang——"

Armand knocked on the door outside the carriage. "Your Majesty, we have arrived at Rapid City. The Frankish envoy has just checked in."

"Great." Horn opened the carriage door violently and jumped down without even using a stool. "Where is the person?"

Horn's hurried look puzzled Armand. They were just a few French envoys, so why were they so anxious?

"They are currently staying in a country villa outside the city. You can summon them anytime you want to see them."

"It's better to do it today than today." Horn quickly decided on a date. "Invite them to a private dinner tonight. We can discuss anything at the dinner table."

(End of this chapter)