Chapter 103

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: A Promise for the Future
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Alfonso had requested an audience with both his parents, but he was unable to meet Leo III that day. The king, he was told, was scheduled to spend the day with his beloved mistress, Countess Rubina, to celebrate her birthday.

“Even for Your Highness, the prince, today of all days…”

Sir Delpianosa, Leo III’s secretary, bowed his head low.

“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness.”

Alfonso sighed, tilting his head back.

“It’s hardly your fault. Very well. I shall consult with my mother first and speak to my father again later.”

*So, today is Countess Rubina’s birthday.*

Cesare would never have forgotten Queen Marguerite’s birthday, but Alfonso did not remember Countess Rubina’s. Such was the privilege of a legitimate son. Yet, being a prince who could not see his father while he was spending an intimate day with his mistress was an unavoidable limitation. Alfonso decided to visit his mother instead. It was a chance to spend time with the woman who had lost her husband to a mistress, and to discuss his own matters as well. He made his way to the queen’s temporary residence in the winter palace of Taranto.

“Mother.”

Unlike the king's quarters, Prince Alfonso could enter the queen’s palace whenever he wished, without a prior appointment. Such was the bond between the prince and his mother. Theirs was a relationship like any ordinary mother and son, where a mother would always take her child’s outstretched hand.

“My dear Alfonso, you’re here. I heard you were unwell. This mother of yours was quite worried.”

“It’s nothing, Mother. You needn’t have worried.”

Alfonso sank down beside Queen Marguerite, who was warming herself by the fireplace. As if her throat were parched, she kept sipping lukewarm water infused with slices of citron.

“Mother, I wasn’t ill. I went to San Carlo.”

“What? You?”

Queen Marguerite was taken aback. She mentally calculated the days her son had been absent and asked.

“Could you have possibly made the journey and returned so quickly?”

Alfonso grinned.

“Of course, Mother. Your son is the finest horseman in San Carlo, a fact not unbecoming of his station and responsibilities.”

“That’s incredible, Alfonso.”

Queen Marguerite had a vague inkling as to why her son had gone to San Carlo. It was a premonition similar to the one the prince’s secretary, Bernardino, had felt. But instead of speaking first, she waited for her son to broach the subject. It was a futile hope that he would find it difficult to speak, that he might give up before he even began. But her son spoke all too easily, with conviction and clarity.

“Mother. I wish to refuse the marriage proposal from the Kingdom of Gallico.”

Queen Marguerite remained silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, she asked.

“Is it because of that girl?”

Once again, her son answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Alfonso, we have already concluded our discussion on this matter—”

“It is true that I wish to make Ariadne my princess. But my desire to reject a marital alliance with Gallico is not solely because of her.”

“Then what is it?”

Alfonso took a deep breath and replied.

“Peace that is begged for is bound to be broken.”

Queen Marguerite, who had expected her son to rail against Grand Duchess Lariesa’s lack of virtue, looked at the prince in surprise. In truth, even to the queen, Lariesa was, contrary to her first impression, arrogant and insolent, as well as foolish and dull.

“Oh?”

“Even if we beg the Kingdom of Gallico for cannons and gunpowder, it will be nothing more than generosity bestowed at their whim. For instance, is the formula for the gunpowder not still a top secret?”

The prince looked his mother squarely in the eye.

“Should we ever attempt to turn those cannons against the Kingdom of Gallico, they would immediately cut off our gunpowder supply. Even with trained artillerymen, what good would they be if resupply is impossible? They would be nothing more than a costly, useless burden. And is that all?”

Alfonso continued.

“Even if we were to use those cannons in a war against Acereto instead of Gallico, they could cut off the gunpowder supply at any time if they disapprove of the situation or the tide of battle. Ultimately, we would still be in a position of having to rely on diplomacy without the backing of military might. Nothing would change.”

The prince declared to his mother.

“I do not doubt that you and Father have deliberated at length. However, in my view, this is merely swapping our dependence on the Condottieri for a dependence on the Kingdom of Gallico—a change of shell, nothing more. Etruscan must forge a path of self-reliance.”

“But Alfonso, self-reliance requires technology.”

These were the words Alfonso had been waiting for. The prince’s face lit up.

“I stopped in San Carlo to receive reports from my people on the results of the tasks I had assigned them.”

Alfonso pulled a bundle of parchments from his breast pocket and handed it to his mother. It was a detailed report. As Queen Marguerite took out a pair of reading glasses and began to peer at the document, the prince added his explanation.

“If we could reverse-engineer the Kingdom of Gallico’s gunpowder formula, all these problems would be solved at once, but with our current level of technology, that is impossible. In the long term, we need to invite alchemists from the Moorish Empire and invest in chemical research.”

She turned a page of the report.

“It would be a long-term project, one spanning twenty years or more. Since it is beyond our immediate capabilities and requires technicians from the Moorish Empire, we might as well start with their gunpowder formula. Gallico began the same way, and it is the consensus that for personal firearms, as opposed to siege warfare, the gunpowder of the Moorish Empire is superior to Gallico’s.”

He pointed to a section of the report with his finger.

“According to my men, small quantities of Moorish gunpowder can be acquired on the black market.”

Prince Alfonso waited patiently beside Queen Marguerite until she finished reading the report. Then, he looked at his mother and pleaded.

“Mother, please lend your son your support.”

Queen Marguerite looked at Prince Alfonso, her brow furrowed, and said.

“Alfonso. You have given this much thought. But even if everything you’ve investigated is true, this is a long and roundabout path.”

Queen Marguerite removed her reading glasses and set them on the side table—a clear gesture that she wished to end the conversation.

“I will not comment further on the practical details. Military affairs are a field I know little of, and it is right to leave such matters to experts. I will speak only of what I know. Inheriting the throne is a delicate matter. Even though you are the sole heir to the throne, there are many obstacles to overcome in the succession.”

Prince Alfonso was Leo III’s only legitimate child, but the king was an emotionally volatile man, always overflowing with peculiar ideas. Queen Marguerite believed that if her husband were sufficiently displeased, he was more than capable of doing something forbidden by the established rules of succession—for instance, legitimizing an illegitimate son and recognizing him as the firstborn. The superior strategy, in her mind, was for Alfonso to lie as low as possible and naturally ascend the throne upon his father’s death.

“This mother of yours wishes for you to take the main road, the safe road. Defying your father now with talk of national defense and the like is not a wise idea.”

Alfonso looked at his mother with pleading eyes.

“Mother. This is not a roundabout path; it is the only right path. The marriage with the Kingdom of Gallico is no shortcut. It is not a path at all. Even without Ariadne, it is a road the Kingdom of Etruscan must not take.”

Queen Marguerite gave her son a poignant smile. She hesitated for a moment, then finally whispered softly.

“But my son, this mother desires your honor and safety more than the prosperity of the Kingdom of Etruscan.”

Normally, Alfonso would have been startled by his mother’s words, which bordered on treason, and would have stared at her in shock. But today, Alfonso did not flinch. He stood before his mother and pressed his case. He had something more important to say.

“Mother. If I must lose Ari and live with Lariesa, I will be forever unhappy. For the sake of your son’s happiness, please support him.”

“Alfonso, if you truly wish to be with that girl, is it absolutely necessary to marry her? The illegitimate daughter of a cardinal is of a somewhat higher station than is desirable, but she is not of such a rank that she could not be taken as a mistress—”

“Mother!”

Alfonso’s voice rose sharply.

“Did the color not drain from your own life when Father brought that woman into his?”

Prince Alfonso glanced at the lukewarm citron water his mother was drinking. Queen Marguerite had recently become more sensitive to the cold, to the point that even her drinking water had to be warmed.

“And today, he left you alone in your poor health to spend time with his mistress.”

“…”

“I could never do such a thing to a woman’s life. Especially not to the woman I love.”

He had said it. The gaze of the boyish Alfonso, slightly startled at his own words, met that of his mother, Queen Marguerite, who was equally stunned by the declaration from the son she had raised so closely. The queen lifted her cup and took a sip. Her mouth was parched, and she needed a distraction.

“Alfonso. This is all too sudden. Grant your mother some time to think.”

She proposed a compromise.

“I will look into matters myself, based on the report you have given me. I will see if its contents are true, and whether the negotiations with the Kingdom of Gallico are proceeding well or are likely to conclude to our disadvantage. Once I have cross-referenced everything, we can speak again.”

She cautioned her son out of concern.

“And for the time being, it would be best to refrain from broaching this with your father. The acquisition of gunpowder from the Kingdom of Gallico is a key project he is promoting. For you, as the heir, to comment this way or that would be far from wise.”

To persuade Leo III, it would be more effective to plead with him as a fellow man to take pity on his poor son because Grand Duchess Lariesa was unappealing as a woman, rather than pointing out his policy failures. Or, Queen Marguerite thought, it would be a hundred times better to appeal to his vanity by asking since when the great Kingdom of Etruscan had become a beggar, using its handsome prince to plead for strategic weapons from the country bumpkins of Gallico.

“Promise me you will not speak to your father without consulting me first. In any case, the negotiations are likely to drag on, as the Grand Duchess de Valois’s side is proving difficult. Besides, even if an agreement were reached tomorrow, we would still need to receive the Holy See’s approval before signing the contract, so we have at least half a year.”

Alfonso had always been an obedient son. But today, Queen Marguerite felt, he was more stubborn than an ox.

“One month. Give me your answer within one month, Mother. I will wait for your word until then, but if you have nothing to say after that time, I will have no choice but to find another way.”

Queen Marguerite heaved a deep sigh.

“Very well.”

***

While one mother wrestled with her internal conflict, watching her son try to break free from her embrace, another mother chose to simply unleash her obsessions and anxieties outward.

*Thump, thump, thump, thump!*

The sound of heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs from the first floor echoed through the house.

“Ippolito! My de—ar son!”

The voice was a warning in itself. Ippolito and Maletta, who were lying in bed together completely naked, turned deathly pale.

“Is that Lady Lucrezia?!”

“Quick, quick, get in the wardrobe!”

Ippolito scrambled out of bed and frantically shoved his limbs into the clothes scattered around the bed like a shed skin.

*Slam!*

“My de—ar son! Good morning!”

“…”

Ippolito, still half-dressed and exposing a considerable amount of skin, made awkward eye contact with his mother, who had just kicked the door open.