Chapter 100

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: A Tender Heart
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Ariadne recoiled as if burned, immediately straightening her posture. She had once experienced, all too vividly, what could happen when she satisfied a man's desires without any promises.

- “Ari, don’t you love me? Come here.”

- “Isabella will be queen.”

The ghost of Cesare's words ringing in her ears, Ariadne pushed away Alfonso's hand, which lingered heavily upon her.

“No!”

Ariadne looked Alfonso straight in the eye and repeated herself.

“I don’t like this.”

Ariadne's rejection surprised Alfonso, as if he’d been doused with cold water. But he was always a gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”

He lowered his hand to her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

“Is this okay?”

A smile curved her lips as she looked at Alfonso, who was waiting anxiously. Ariadne smiled happily and met Alfonso's lips with her own.

“This is good.”

A smile spread across Alfonso's face again. The young couple giggled, rubbing their noses together as their lips sought each other. Playful pecks naturally deepened into passionate kisses. They were lost in a long, breathless exploration of each other's lips when a rumbling stomach echoed through the sitting room, bringing them to a halt. Ariadne looked at Alfonso’s face, and he turned his reddened face away. It was only then that Ariadne had a chance to look him over properly. Alfonso's attire told the long and arduous tale of a prince who had urged his horse across snow-covered winter fields, day and night. She gently tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and said.

“You must have gone through so much to get here. You’re hungry, aren’t you? When was the last time you ate?”

“Last night? Some jerky?”

It was late afternoon, nearing evening. His words meant he had starved for nearly a full day. Ariadne shot up in surprise.

“This won’t do. Let’s get you something to eat right now! Wait here!”

Ariadne rushed into the kitchen connected to the dining hall. Ever since her return, she had compulsively avoided food. Her dietary restrictions had been so prolonged that the mere sight of food now made her nauseous. Yet, as the lady of the house, she faced the double burden of having to meticulously see to others' meals, and supervising the preparations was a task she particularly loathed. But if it was for Alfonso, she could handle it willingly. Between lunch and dinner, when the kitchen maids were all away, she entered the empty kitchen and indiscriminately piled bread and meat from the pantry onto a tray. Having come in from the cold winter, mulled wine and warm soup were essential. After filling a large tray with food, she hesitated for a moment before adding a dessert, then closed the pantry and returned to the sitting room beside the kitchen.

“Here! Let’s eat quickly!”

Ariadne had only brought one set of a spoon and fork. Alfonso raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I already ate.”

She answered coolly without a hint of hesitation, but he keenly scanned her from head to toe. Far from having had lunch, her face looked as if she hadn't eaten in three days. Instead of calling out her lie, Alfonso smiled at Ariadne and said.

“Then eat again.”

Alfonso pressed her again, asking if she was going to let him eat alone. Only then did Ariadne reluctantly fetch her own utensils, picking at her food and barely wetting her lips with a little soup. Thinking only of feeding the prince, she hadn't thought to bring anything like plain vegetables without sauce. The soup was the one thing that made her feel the least nauseous. Alfonso noticed Ariadne staring at her spoonful of soup as if performing a ritual and watched her intently. Ariadne eventually noticed his gaze and looked up to meet his eyes.

“What is it?”

“You don’t eat well, do you?”

His sharp gaze swept over her wrists, the nape of her neck, and her cheeks.

“I doubt your family would starve you at this point, so it must be you who isn’t eating, right?”

Ariadne avoided Alfonso’s gaze. But he wouldn’t let her go.

“Open up.”

Ariadne flinched. Just imagining the sensation of food in her mouth was sickening. If I eat, I’ll gain weight. If I gain weight…

- “They say embracing you is like holding a man.”

It was unthinkable. When Ariadne stubbornly kept her mouth shut before the spoon, Alfonso frowned. Seeing Alfonso’s frown, Ariadne pouted.

‘What, are you going to get angry because I won’t eat?’

But what pressed against her was not Alfonso's expressed disappointment, but his lips. The prince took a sip of warm milk with sugar and dried fruit, then opened her mouth and passed it down her throat. She couldn't tell if the sweetness was the warm milk or his kiss. It was the first time she had tasted something sweet in the ten months since her return. Normally, she would have recoiled and spat it out, or lashed out at the person who made her eat, but she surrendered to the sweetness she couldn't distinguish from his lips or the sugar.

“Hah…”

Alfonso pulled his lips away. A single, spiderweb-thin thread, evidence of their sweet kiss, hung between them. Ariadne wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Alfonso, what are you…!”

“Ari, I want you to be healthy.”

At his words, Ariadne had no choice but to halt the angry retort on the tip of her tongue.

“I don’t like seeing you waste away. If there’s something delicious, I want you to just eat it without thinking. I don’t want you to be darkened by complicated thoughts.”

He wiped her lips with his finger. The lips where milk, mixed with saliva, still lingered from her hasty wipe.

“You’re beautiful.”

Ariadne flinched. Sweet nothings a man only whispers right before bed. She had heard such things countless times in her past life. She spat out stubbornly.

“Saying that won’t make me permit you anything more here today.”

At Ariadne’s cruel words, Alfonso’s blue-gray eyes trembled slightly. But he didn’t get angry. Instead, he pressed very close and touched his lips to her forehead.

“Ari. Don’t say things like that. That’s not why I said it.”

He paused, choosing his words, then continued.

“In my eyes, you’re more beautiful than anyone in the world. You don’t need to be thinner, and you don’t need to adorn yourself with anything cumbersome. Just… I want you to do what you want, eat what you want, and live naturally and comfortably.”

It was a luxury that Prince Alfonso himself could not afford. But he intended to win it for himself as well. A natural, everyday life where I can be myself. And even more so for his lady. He was determined to make it happen for her, a hundred, a thousand times over. He fumbled for Ariadne’s hand, found it, and squeezed it tight.

“I was so worried about you, I had to come.”

He gently stroked her forehead and continued.

“It’s strange. You’re so sharp and good at everything, yet you seem like a child left by the water's edge. I can’t stop thinking about you, worrying about you, caring for you.”

When Prince Alfonso learned that the obituary was for Arabella, not Ariadne, he realized his reason for going to San Carlo had vanished, but he couldn't stop himself. The lingering worry and affection that occupied a corner of his heart propelled him toward San Carlo. Arabella was the youngest sister whom Ariadne adored, the only person she could truly connect with in a household teeming with inhuman creatures. Imagining how Ariadne must feel was like a knife stabbing into his heart. His dark-haired girl, pretending to be strong with her lips pressed tight, would have no one to lean on. He wanted to run to her and be the shoulder she could lean on. He was a boy prince with no real power, an only son who had yet to even become crown prince, but there were still things he could do. No, these were things even a common man on the street could do. To tell his girl that she was not alone, that she could take his hand when things were hard. That was why he had taken such an absurd risk, traveling for three days and nights through the snow to stand before her now.

“See, this is why I worry. You don’t even do the basics. Even children over four know how to eat by themselves. Since you can’t even do what a child can, I had to come all the way to San Carlo to feed you.”

Alfonso rubbed his nose against Ariadne's face.

“You’re worse than a child.”

“I am not!”

“Then eat with your own hands.”

He placed a spoon in Ariadne’s hand and pushed the soup bowl in front of her. Having come this far, she had no choice but to comply. She scooped up the clear mushroom and beef broth with her spoon but couldn't bring herself to put it in her mouth. Beside her, Alfonso leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Hurry, before I feed you like I did before.”

Startled by the low voice suddenly in her ear, Ariadne put the spoon in her mouth. The aroma of dried porcini mushrooms and the savory taste of beef moistened Ariadne’s throat. The taste of proper food, which she hadn't had in so long, was unfamiliar at first, even briefly nauseating. But as the soup slid down her esophagus, the pleasant taste she once knew faintly brushed against her senses. That’s right, this is what it tasted like… As Ariadne swallowed the first bite, Alfonso stroked her head and praised her.

“Go on, one more bite.”

At Alfonso’s urging, she took another spoonful of the mushroom and beef soup. This time, the joyful taste of food, which had only been a faint sensation at the very end before, burst forth the moment it touched her tongue. Ariadne voluntarily took a third spoonful. Alfonso watched all of this with a pleased smile, his chin resting on his hand. Ariadne finished all the mushroom and beef soup, and even ate some potato gnocchi and roasted lamb. She couldn't eat much of the meat, as the gamy smell was strong after so long, but it was still a huge improvement. Alfonso, too, heartily satisfied the craving built up over three days of eating nothing but frozen jerky. It was Prince Alfonso who had played the lead role in demolishing the food. The food that had filled an entire tray vanished in the blink of an eye once they started eating in earnest. Alfonso chewed and swallowed the last piece of lamb, looking somewhat regretful.

“Should I get you more?”

“No, this is enough. I only ate it because it was there.”

For a prince, his palate was unusually frugal. Ariadne smiled faintly. Then her eyes fell on the rice pudding at the corner of the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?”

Alfonso glanced at it and replied.

“I’m not a big fan of desserts. Besides, I don’t like pudding because of its mushy texture.”

Ariadne paused. Alfonso had definitely eaten the sanguinaccio dolce she had offered him without any sign of dislike. She asked indirectly.

“I’ve never seen you leave dessert at an official function.”

Alfonso smiled bitterly.

“That’s because if I leave food at an official function or in the palace, the kitchen staff gets hell for it.”

Queen Marguerite was particularly concerned with the prince eating well, and Alfonso’s wet nurse, eager to please the queen, would hysterically protest to the kitchen staff whenever Alfonso left food, demanding to know why the prince had no appetite and what the chef had done to cause the prince to not finish his meal. The prince’s wet nurse had far more say than the palace chef. Alfonso witnessed chefs being fired, pages dismissed, and maids being flogged whenever he left food on his plate.

“I have to force myself to eat it, even if I don’t like it.”

Ariadne’s heart sank. Did he eat all of that sanguinaccio dolce I gave him because he was afraid I’d be dragged off by Cesare and tormented? Ariadne found herself caressing Alfonso’s cheek. Even if she asked the Alfonso of today, he wouldn’t know. Some things are destined to remain unknown forever. But even without confirmation, she felt she knew. Alfonso seemed quite pleased that Ariadne had reached out to him first. A gentle smile on his lips, he spoke to Ariadne.

“Eat well, sleep well, and take care of yourself. I should get going now.”

Ariadne broke from her thoughts and chuckled at Alfonso’s changed tone.

“Your Highness. Such a sudden air of dignity?”

Alfonso looked at Ariadne fondly and smiled.

“There’s a difference between how I treat a friend and how I treat my woman.”

Ariadne blushed instantly. Not wanting to show her embarrassment, she countered playfully.

“Am I your woman?”

The old Alfonso would have turned beet red. This time, too, he couldn’t hide the slight reddening of his earlobes. But he nodded firmly.

“Yes.”

After his firm reply, Alfonso added another word.

“Just wait a little longer.”

Ariadne smiled bashfully. It felt like a warm breeze blowing through her heart. It was like a painkiller injected directly into a life riddled with misfortune and tragedy. She was always the one to take care of her men. Ariadne asked out of habit.

“How did you get away? It doesn’t seem like you came here officially.”

“That’s not for you to worry about.”

Prince Alfonso replied in a firm voice.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Ariadne was slightly surprised by his decisiveness, so unlike the usual Alfonso, and by his response, which was so different from Cesare’s. The output for her input was completely different from what she was used to. Cesare would have surely whined to her when she offered a caring hand, asking about his difficulties. He would have complained about how hard it was to get away, or demanded she listen to the brilliant scheme he’d used to do so. She was used to hours filled with boasting and pleading. Ariadne marveled at the difference for a moment, then nodded. Alfonso must have a plan. She decided to trust her prince.

“You, too. Be careful.”

She added another word.

“Don’t overdo it.”

If they just stayed still, did nothing, and held their breath in the shadows, the result they both desired would come. The marriage talks between the Prince of Etruscan and the Grand Duchess of Gallico would fall through, and Prince Alfonso would be commanded by the king to marry one of Cardinal de Mare’s daughters. But a burnt offering requires a sacrifice. None other than Queen Marguerite’s life was to be the offering upon the altar today, the white lamb.