Chapter 1

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Betrayal, Hair-Pulling, Obsession, Affection, and a Meaningless Promise
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Thud. The blond crown prince collapsed limply to the floor. Just moments before, he had unsuspectingly taken a large bite of the sanguinaccio dolce, made from veal, that Ariadne had offered him. It was the price of trusting her. Ariadne nodded to the waiting soldiers, handing over Crown Prince Alfonso. And just like that, so anticlimactically, the master of the kingdom had changed.

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

Ariadne murmured softly. She knew what she had done was wrong. But she had someone she had to protect. Ariadne walked through the palace as if it were her own home and entered the king's bedchamber. No one stopped her as she swept through the palace. Inside the king's chambers, he was there. The object of her blind love and adoration, her perfect fiancé. Cesare de Como. The king's bastard. The king's son who could never be a prince.

“How did it go?!”

“...I’ve secured Crown Prince Alfonso. I handed him over to the Pisano soldiers.”

Upon hearing her words, the tension vanished from Cesare’s sculpted face, replaced by a radiant smile. It was as if all the candles in the room had been lit at once, brightening the world and warming the air. Yes. This is all I needed. Cesare leaped down from his father's throne, where he had been perched, and clasped Ariadne's hands. As his warmth spread to her, Ariadne trembled, feeling his joy and affection become her own.

“You did well. Once we take that bastard’s life, I will make you the noblest woman in the kingdom.”

“Cesare...”

“My father is on his deathbed. It wouldn't be strange if he passed away at any moment.”

With the old king bedridden and Prince Alfonso now deposed, there was no one left to stop Cesare de Como.

“And so, our era begins.”

She had no interest in a new era. If he was happy, and if she could be by his side, that was enough for her. * * * Cesare de Como, Margrave of the Kingdom of Etruscan and Prince Alfonso's 'cousin,' had raised an army from the borderlands and seized the royal castle the moment King Leo III fell ill. His pretext was that Prince Alfonso had attempted to poison Leo III. No one believed it, but with the castle filled with Cesare's private soldiers, none dared to voice their dissent. Then, swift as lightning, Prince Alfonso’s corpse was hung from the walls of the capital, San Carlo. Cesare's faction announced that he had been caught at the border while trying to defect to the enemy nation, the Kingdom of Gallico.

"Behold! Prince Alfonso was a vile traitor who conspired with our enemies to poison the king and seize the throne! I, Cesare de Como—no, Cesare de Carlo—shall protect the Kingdom of Etruscan and defend the king as Prince Regent! The people shall trust and follow me!"

* * * Even after the successful coup made him Prince Regent of Etruscan, Cesare spent nine years consolidating his power. During that time, Cesare needed a woman by his side to help rule the palace. Since King Leo III's queen had passed away long ago, the highest-ranking woman in the kingdom was Cesare's fiancée, Ariadne. When she had first entered the palace, Ariadne's reputation in society was abysmal.

“I heard she’s only twenty-two.”

“They say she grew up on a farm. She has no culture.”

“I saw her at a party, and she couldn't even dress properly. It's because she was raised with no breeding.”

Ariadne was a symbol of all that was unjust. The woman of the king's bastard who had ousted the rightful prince. Her own birth was that of a bastard to a Cardinal. She was not yet formally married to Prince Regent Cesare, and her own refinement was lacking. She devoted her entire being to Cesare, but even that was mocked, as if she were just a woman with nothing to offer, desperately clinging to a man. Naturally, the ridicule directed at the Prince Regent also grew. One day, when this insolent atmosphere reached its peak, an incident occurred at a regular tea party she was hosting. An elderly countess from a historic capital family began to speak loudly about the secret of Prince Regent Cesare's birth. While this was a well-known rumor among the central court nobles, it was not common knowledge among the provincial aristocrats from the borderlands.

“Is it true that Lord Cesare is not the prince's cousin, but actually Leo III's illegitimate son?”

The central nobles had long disapproved of Ariadne and Cesare. But to speak of Cesare so loudly, as if to ensure Ariadne heard, was crossing a line. Her hand, holding a fan, tightened.

“Is it true?”

“I’ve heard that story as well.”

“An illegitimate child is the product of an unholy union, unblessed by God...”

They went so far as to turn their bodies completely away from Ariadne, who sat at the head of the tea table. With the countess at the center, they formed a tableau that treated Ariadne as if she were invisible. Their attitude screamed. —What can a half-noble like you do, even if you don't like it? You, the Cardinal's bastard, propped up by this illegitimate power.

“Surely not. If that were true, how could we serve such a man as king?”

“But there’s a credible story... His mother was...”

He was the purpose of her life, the object of her worship. He was noble, strong, and enduring great pain. Ariadne could tolerate insults directed at herself, but she could not forgive slander against Cesare.

“One's birth records must be clean to prove royal lineage. Lord Cesare, it seems, has a tainted background, making him unfit to be king.”

At the end of the discussion, the countess who had started it all delivered her verdict as if she were a high judge. Her firm declaration echoed through Ariadne's drawing room. - Snap! Ariadne thought she heard the sound of her own patience snapping. In that instant, she leaped over the table like a wild beast and grabbed the countess by the hair.

“Take it back!”

Ariadne shook the countess by the hair, growling like an animal.

“You know nothing! You have no proof!”

There must have been a way to fight and win against the capital's jaded noblewomen on their own terms. But the young Ariadne, in her early twenties, who had grown up on a country farm among maids without a proper education, did not know how. Nevertheless, she had to do something. She could not bear to see her beloved Cesare become the butt of jokes for such pretentious trash.

“Take back what you said about Cesare with that flippant tongue of yours!”

“Aah!”

The countess screamed, her hair disheveled, as dessert trays and snacks went flying. The other noblewomen, delicate as hothouse flowers, could only stare at the scene, frozen like ice. Ariadne shook the countess's hair with both hands and screamed.

“Do you think you can just spew whatever you want from that mouth of yours? Retract it and apologize, now!”

“Good heavens! How uncivilized!”

Aside from the shrieks of the two women, an icy silence dominated the drawing room. A situation like this was unprecedented. The noblewomen milled about in confusion, not daring to intervene in a hair-pulling incident in the heart of palace society. At that moment, the heavy thud of men's military boots suddenly echoed through the room. - Thump, thump! Royal guards entered the drawing room with disciplined movements and came to a halt. Behind them, an exceptionally handsome man in a formal uniform strode in leisurely and stopped. He was tall and slender, his deliberate, almost lazy movements exuding a sensual charm. A man so striking he would stand out in a crowd of ten thousand. It was Cesare.

“Cesare!”

A smile spread across Ariadne's face. It felt as if a mighty army had appeared to save her.

‘You came to save me from this.’

Perfect timing. Her perfect prince, descended from the heavens, would surely rebuke her enemies for the sake of his devoted, delicate woman. He would bring down the hammer of justice on the vile crowd that had disrespected them both. She let go of the countess's hair and scurried up like a squirrel to stand behind Cesare.

“They were...!”

“What is going on here?”

Cesare swept his auburn hair back and turned to Ariadne. His voice was impossibly gentle and languid. But... the set of his mouth was terribly cold, and there was no affection in his eyes. A look that was, perhaps, tinged with weariness.

“Ariadne. Tell me. What is all this commotion?”

“It’s just, they were saying to you—!”

“Good heavens. Countess Marquez!”

He seemed to have no desire to speak with Ariadne. The fallen countess was an excellent excuse to avoid talking to her. He made no effort to hide his surprise as he quickly, yet gently, extended his hand.

“Countess, please take my hand and rise.”

Even the countess, whose hair had been pulled, seemed not to have expected the Prince Regent to take her side. But she did not miss the opportunity that had fallen into her lap, and her pride remained as high as the sky.

“Unlike that woman, the Prince Regent's etiquette was clearly learned in the royal court.”

After rising to her feet, the countess smoothed her hair and then brushed off the part of her dress that Ariadne had touched. Then she stared directly at Ariadne and scoffed.

“Hmph!”

The other central nobles flocked around the countess, asking after her well-being.

“Countess Marquez, are you all right?”

“You aren't hurt, are you?”

“The Prince Regent's fiancée has truly crossed the line!”

Ariadne wanted to retort, ‘Who do you think crossed the line first!’, but she bit her tongue at the sight of Cesare's irritated—no, furious—gaze.

“What do you think you're doing to a central noble?”

Cesare hissed at Ariadne through clenched teeth.

“Don't you know I need a base of support? Are you in your right mind, laying a hand on someone from House Marquez?”

‘Groveling before someone who treats me so poorly won't make them my friend, Cesare.’

Ariadne wanted to reply as such, but she was too intimidated by Cesare's demeanor to get the words out. In truth, if she talked back, he would undoubtedly fly into a rage. Ariadne never wanted to be seen arguing with Cesare—or rather, being treated condescendingly by him—in front of all the capital's noblewomen. But he mercilessly crushed that hope.

“That one countess is far more useful to me than you are.”

His low, teeth-gritted voice cut through the noise in the drawing room.