Sister I am the Queen in This Life [Novel] Chapter 129

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: What is Your Love?
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Raphael was so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened, that Ariadne missed her chance to protest. The floor was abuzz anyway as partners began to change for the next dance.

“Brother!”

Just then, Giulia, having finished the first dance, approached and spoke to Raphael.

“Don’t just cling to the wall like a social outcast after one dance. The second one is with me.”

“You say that as if you’re bestowing a great favor upon me.”

“It’s true, isn’t it? I’m saving you.”

“It’s the other way around.”

“Whatever.”

At a ball, it was customary not to dance with the same partner for multiple consecutive songs. If one wished to do so, they would typically rest for a song or two, or dance with someone else before returning to ask the lady again. As his sister approached, Raphael asked for Ariadne’s understanding.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Giulia is being particularly insistent today.”

“Brother!”

“She makes a fuss even when I’m doing exactly what she wants!”

Ariadne smiled and let the Valdesal siblings go. She could have danced with Giulia’s partner if she had wanted to, but he was Baron Caseri, a man in his forties who had little interest in social dancing and was at an age where standing for too long brought on back pain. When Baron Caseri asked her to dance out of courtesy, Ariadne declined with a smile, subtly noting his relief before leaning against the wall, crossing her arms, and watching the floor.

*Alfonso is still on the floor.*

The promise between Alfonso and Ariadne had not been one-sided. While Alfonso had insisted that she not hold hands with Raphael without gloves and that they never be alone together, Ariadne had made him promise something in return.

‘You will dance only one song with Grand Princess Lariesa.’

As Alfonso persistently demanded she keep her distance from Raphael de Valdesal, Ariadne, who was already upset about him being with Lariesa, had added her own condition in a fit of pique. Prince Alfonso and Grand Princess Lariesa were the official couple chosen by Leo III to open the ball. There was no way to refuse the first dance. But after one dance, their duty to the King’s command would be fulfilled.

— “Alright!”

Alfonso had readily agreed. When Ariadne, showing her displeasure, told him he must not dance with the Grand Princess more than once, he had, strangely, looked delighted and showered her face with kisses. But something was wrong now. The second song was about to begin. He should have either handed Grand Princess Lariesa over to her next partner or, if she had none, escorted her back to her seat. Yet, Prince Alfonso and Grand Princess Lariesa were still standing in the very center of the floor.

***

As the final note of the waltz sounded, Alfonso bowed deeply to Lariesa.

“Thank you for the beautiful dance. Shall we return to our seats?”

“...do.”

Lariesa mumbled something, remaining motionless in the center of the dance floor. When she didn’t place her hand on the forearm he offered, Alfonso asked again.

“Is something the matter, Grand Princess Lariesa?”

“...I said I do.”

The surrounding area was noisy with partners changing, and the Grand Princess seemed to swallow her words.

“Pardon? I can’t hear you well, Grand Princess.”

“I said I love you!”

Her shrill voice soared through the crowded ballroom. Alfonso, caught completely off guard by the confession, furrowed his brow slightly. Whether by coincidence or because her voice had carried, nearby couples began to glance in their direction.

“This is not the place for such a conversation.”

Alfonso cut her off, his expression hardening.

“Let us return to the seats of honor, Grand Princess.”

“Prince Alfonso, do not change the subject.”

But Grand Princess Lariesa was adamant.

“I love you.”

Prince Alfonso let out a dry laugh at Grand Princess Lariesa’s outburst.

“Love?”

He questioned her.

“Do you know me well enough to love me?”

To Alfonso, love was the desire to cherish and care for another person. It wasn’t something that sparked at first sight, but something that grew as you spent time with someone, sharing experiences. It was human nature to be drawn to another’s exceptional qualities. That excellence could be beautiful features, a fine figure, or external things like status and fame. But for that simple interest to blossom into love, Alfonso believed one had to understand the other’s character, their way of handling situations, their composure, even their inner turmoil. Only when admiration turned to empathy, and that empathy to compassion, was the feeling reborn into something worthy of the name ‘love.’

“I do not believe that you love me.”

For him, love meant putting her before himself, wanting to see her smile, believing her tears were an absolute impossibility, and feeling that no effort was too great if it could bring her joy. This was Prince Alfonso’s definition of love.

At his words, Lariesa cried out.

“The moment I first saw you, I knew! You are my destiny!”

Grand Princess Lariesa was lingering on the floor for far too long. Others had finished changing partners and were taking their positions for the second dance. People began to murmur, casting occasional glances at the prince and the grand princess.

“Let us go, Grand Princess.”

“I won’t move an inch until you answer my heart!”

The orchestra’s prelude rang out. While Lariesa stood her ground, the orchestra began the second piece. In time with the music, the couples extended their joined hands and began to turn clockwise. Amid the hundreds of pairs spinning like the hands of a clock, only Prince Alfonso and Grand Princess Lariesa stood still as statues.

The furtive glances of the dancing couples fell upon them. The gazes of those further away, and most importantly, those of Leo III and Duke Mireille from their seats of honor, were also fixed on the center of the floor. Alfonso sighed and extended his hand. Grand Princess Lariesa immediately took it. He placed his other hand on her waist and began to step and twirl with the others.

*I promised Ari…*

He searched for any trace of his Ariadne somewhere in the crowd. But the nearly one thousand attendees of the ball filled every space like a surging tide, making it impossible to find his lady, who was surely shining somewhere, from his position in the center of the floor.

Noticing his lack of focus, Lariesa spoke as they turned.

“Your Highness. We are destined to be married. It is a fateful love!”

“Destiny? Is destiny so simple? I do not think so.”

“Both our kingdoms wish for this union, and I felt a tremor in my soul when I first saw you! Isn’t that enough?”

“What, precisely, is your love?”

They spun in a wide circle, their fingertips barely touching. As Lariesa moved away, Alfonso felt he could breathe again. It was always like this with her. He couldn’t breathe.

“I… I…”

Lariesa had never once considered the definition of love. All she knew was that her heart fluttered and her cheeks flushed whenever she saw Alfonso. For some time now, she had wanted him—badly. She wanted to know his every move, and even the slightest glance he gave another woman infuriated her. She even resented the time Prince Alfonso spent with his secretaries and knights. She wanted him to spend that time whispering sweet nothings to her, offering his worship to her and her alone.

“...I can give you everything.”

Unable to bring herself to say, ‘I want to possess you,’ Grand Princess Lariesa chose her words carefully.

“I look only at you, I think only of you. Every minute, every second of my day is yours alone. I will bear you children. I will place children who resemble you in your arms, be it eight or nine.”

They spun in another wide turn, in time with the music.

“...So.”

Lariesa said, her voice pleading.

“Please, look at me too.”

Alfonso gave no reply, simply moving to the music. With every beat, he executed each step and bow with perfect precision. Discouraged by his poor reaction, Lariesa hastily added.

“I know I was presumptuous in Taranto. Count Levien scolded me severely for it.”

She was referring to the incident in the corridor of the Taranto villa, where she had declared that he had better treat her, the Grand Princess of Gallico, well if he wanted to protect the weak kingdom of Etruscan.

“I will never speak like that again. For a woman to flaunt her authority over the husband she is meant to follow is to forsake the teachings of the Meditations.”

Lariesa was not the type of person to admit her faults. But her craving for Alfonso’s love was so desperate that she swallowed her pride and did things she normally never would.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just look at me.”

An apology and a confession. The first was something Lariesa never did, and the second was something no unmarried lady in the central continent ever did. Having done both in a single day, Lariesa looked up at Alfonso with the eyes of a puppy begging for affection.

*Please…!*

She was in a bind. First, the marriage negotiations led by Count Levien were dragging on tediously. Last week, the talks had nearly collapsed. When Etruscan persisted in demanding the formula for gunpowder, the Kingdom of Gallico had sent word for them to pack their bags and return home. Countess Marquez, acting as Leo III’s voice, had hastily withdrawn the demand, allowing the Gallican delegation to return to the negotiating table, but Lariesa had nearly fainted from shock.

Furthermore, Prince Alfonso’s attitude had grown noticeably colder with each passing day. The warmth he had shown when she first arrived in Etruscan was nowhere to be found. Her heart crumbled every time he spoke without looking her in the eye, every time he failed to schedule appointments outside of official duties, every time she saw the corners of his mouth turned down in anything but a smile. So she did everything she could. But a person’s heart cannot be won through effort, and certainly not through begging.

“Grand Princess. You are…”

Prince Alfonso opened his mouth to speak.

***

Ariadne clearly saw Prince Alfonso and Grand Princess Lariesa join hands and begin the second dance.

*Alfonso…!*

He promised! The disappointment she had been trying so hard to suppress came flooding back. She had acted composed for Raphael, but in truth, even the first waltz Alfonso had danced with Lariesa had made her insides twist. She had gritted her teeth and endured it with practiced patience. But a second waltz! As far as Ariadne was concerned, that dance was completely unnecessary.

*...If he was going to do this, he shouldn’t have made such a solemn promise. If he wasn’t going to give it back, he shouldn’t have whispered such sweet words, telling me I was the only one for him.*

Her thoughts were spiraling like an untamed colt. She stood amidst the swirling emotions, blankly staring at the dance floor where people spun rapidly under the dazzling lights.

*!*

Grand Princess Lariesa broke from the standard waltz form and moved far too close to Alfonso. Even when it was time to create distance, she pressed her upper body against his, pleading for something.

*What could she be saying…*

Alfonso sighed and whispered something in Grand Princess Lariesa’s ear. It felt as if blood was boiling in her chest, about to burst. What could he have said?

*It hurts…*

The alienation she felt in the beautiful ballroom and magnificent reception halls of Palazzo Carlo. The expectations and the disappointments. These were all painfully familiar feelings to Ariadne. She swallowed dryly, feeling the past closing in on her.

*Think of something else, something else.*

To control the vortex of emotions, Ariadne desperately tried to think of anything else. The thought that Alfonso must have had his reasons did little to stop the chain of gloomy imaginings. Instead, she thought of the weather she had seen from the carriage, the food she had eaten for lunch, and eventually, the ledgers that needed to be settled by tomorrow and the payments that had to be made. The thought of ledgers and money finally managed to divert her attention.

*Now that all the household ledgers are in my hands, I should start buying wheat this autumn to prepare for the plague…*

“Lady de Mare.”

A pleasant tenor voice cut through Ariadne’s thoughts. Huddled alone near a wall of the ballroom, her arms crossed, she snapped her head up. The voice was far too familiar. One she had heard tens of thousands of times.

“Cesare… Count.”

He was the man who had been the source of all her alienation at Palazzo Carlo. If she hadn’t been engaged to Cesare, she, a young lady of illegitimate birth, the match for a bastard, would never have set foot in Palazzo Carlo in the first place.

“A beautiful lady, why are you all alone in this corner? Would you grant me a dance?”

That very same man was now offering his left hand, as if to wash away all that past alienation.