Chapter 183

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 183
Chapter Title: A Calculated Outburst and an Impulsive Act
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With a heart full of displeasure, Leo III made his way to the Grand Mass of August.

Three months had passed since the death of his queen, and over two and a half months since he had sent his only son to the Kingdom of Gallico.

He had been blinded by the prospect of Gallican gunpowder.

But instead of gunpowder, the King of Gallico’s heavy cavalry and elite infantry had crossed into his borders, threatening his lands.

‘How did it come to this?’

Leo III prided himself on having made the best choices for his kingdom and his crown at every turn. Yet, the situation had become hopelessly tangled.

He was in no mood to appear before others.

But even in such a dire situation, a king was expected to display his strength before his people.

Lately, he had been plagued by headaches, thirst, and numbness in his hands and feet. His health was not what it used to be.

‘This damned crown.’

While he enjoyed being king most of the time, one could never like every aspect of a thing.

Life as a king had its good sides, but it also had its utterly tiresome ones.

And the throne was a position that, over time, wore a man’s patience thin.

After all, most of the time, he had the freedom not to do what he disliked.

Cursing inwardly, Leo III rode in a lavish golden carriage, a display of his royal authority. He crossed the courtyard of the Cathedral of San Ercole, packed with his subjects, and disembarked from the carriage, cast from solid gold, to enter the cathedral’s narthex.

The assembled nobles rose as one.

“His Majesty the King has arrived!”

“He comes alone today.”

“Hush! Don’t speak of such things!”

Leo III walked with an air of arrogance down the aisle that cut through the center of the nave.

It was a path he would normally have walked with his family, but with Marguerite and Rubina gone for their own reasons, Leo III was alone.

Alfonso was abroad, and Cesare had been feigning illness of late, not showing his face at all.

Passing the transept and approaching the chancel where the sanctuary lay, Leo III breathed an inward sigh of relief.

Just up the spiral staircase next to the chancel was the royal family’s private balcony.

Once he set foot on those stairs, he could escape the public eye for the duration of the mass.

It was the moment he placed his foot on the first step of the spiral staircase.

“Your Majesty!”

A figure in a blue dress rushed out from the front row of the nave and threw herself at his feet. She was a young woman.

All eyes turned back to Leo III, and he felt a surge of irritation.

“What insolence is this!”

He was on the verge of shouting at his royal guards to drag the impertinent woman away.

Only one thing stopped him.

The blue silk dress was exquisite and luxurious. Its fine embroidery was striking.

Noting the opulence that bespoke high rank, Leo III looked at the owner of the dress once more.

“I beseech your grace!”

The woman who had thrown herself to the floor cried out to catch his attention, lifting her head.

Her upturned face was quite pretty. Clear skin, slightly upturned eyes, a high nose bridge. Lips that drew the eye.

Her features were not perfectly sculpted, but it was a captivating face, glowing with youthful vitality.

And it was a familiar face.

Leo III stared at her.

“You are…?”

It was the second daughter of Cardinal de Mare, Ariadne de Mare.

“Three minutes, just three minutes of your time, I beg of you.”

The maiden widely believed to be his son’s lover. She stretched her long, doe-like neck and called his name in desperation.

Her smooth skin continued down to her chest.

The neckline of her blue dress was cut just to the limit of what was permissible in society. It was a modest attire.

But Leo III saw through the fit of that modest dress to the alluring curves beneath.

The woman pleaded once more.

“Your Majesty, please…”

Her entreating voice was quite pitiful.

Leo III found himself softening.

He took a step into the spiral staircase and said, “Follow me.”

* * *

Though he had given in to a momentary impulse, Leo III soon felt a sense of unease.

This young lady was the Cardinal’s daughter and his son’s lover, and they were in the very cathedral where her father would soon deliver a sermon.

This was not a situation where he could do anything.

Slightly peeved, without quite knowing why, Leo III stood on the landing of the spiral staircase and spoke curtly to the young maiden below.

“The Grand Mass will begin shortly. State your business, and be brief.”

Leo III thought he had slighted her by not admitting her to the royal family’s balcony, but this was exactly what Ariadne had wanted.

Entering the royal balcony was the last thing on her mind.

She went straight to the point.

“Your Majesty, you must not send Princess Bianca to the Kingdom of Gallico!”

At her first words, Leo III felt a headache coming on.

Since the Count of Ruvigny from Gallico had dropped his bombshell yesterday, the hastily convened members of the Lesser Curia Regis had argued back and forth for six hours.

This is an opportunity for Bianca of Taranto as well. If we can resolve this situation by sending her, there’s no reason not to…

No, if we send Bianca of Taranto and she bears a child, sovereignty over the Taranto region could pass to the Kingdom of Gallico…

What Bianca possesses is merely the right to rule, which is bound by an oath of fealty to the King of Etruscan. That oath is not nullified just because she has a child. To look on the bright side, wouldn’t this mean the King of Gallico gains a title that comes with an obligation of fealty to the King of Etruscan…

It was all just armchair theorizing.

And it couldn’t be otherwise. The nobles were not speaking the truth of the matter but were choosing the argument that best served their interests—whether Bianca of Taranto was gone or not—and then creating the logic to support it.

‘I’m sick of it.’

Leo III was well aware of his vassals’ machinations.

However, he needed time to think, and listening to their empty debates at least gave him material for thought.

But he had heard too much yesterday, and it was clear no brilliant breakthrough was forthcoming.

Hearing a topic he no longer wanted to discuss from a person he hadn’t expected it from, Leo III couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“My lady. Leave such matters to the thoughtful and excellent nobles of the court. Everyone has their given talents, and…”

The King was about to add: *My lady, that dress you’re wearing is pretty. You should concern yourself with such things. As for your jewels, brilliant diamonds would suit you better than those matronly pearls you’re wearing today.*

“Your Majesty. The Kingdom of Gallico intends to devour the Kingdom of Etruscan whole!”

Leo III stood frozen, his mouth shut. Ariadne did not miss her chance.

“Princess Bianca is second in line to the throne! If you send the princess to Gallico, the Kingdom of Gallico will have both the first and second heirs to the throne in their grasp! What do you think they will do then!”

The moment Ariadne heard that Gallico had demanded Bianca of Taranto, she realized Alfonso’s life was in grave danger.

If she were Philip IV, she would have found a way to kill Alfonso without the arrow pointing back to her.

This was a fact that any wise person could discern.

For instance, even Cardinal de Mare had considered it.

But not one of the court nobles had mentioned it to Leo III.

No, they *couldn’t*. They couldn’t be sure what would happen to them if they brought up the topic of the line of succession.

“If Gallico secures the marriage with Princess Bianca and then assassinates Prince Alfonso, the rightful heir to the Kingdom of Etruscan will be a descendant of the King of Gallico!”

“How can you say such a thing! I am still hale and hearty!”

As expected, Leo III erupted in anger on the spot. The succession, how dare she speak of the succession.

But Ariadne stubbornly continued. She was in no position to be prudent. Alfonso was in danger.

“No human lives forever!”

Leo III clenched his fists, his hands trembling.

“You… you insolent…”

Veins pulsed on the old king’s neck and forehead. He raised his voice.

“Your thoughts are absurd!”

There was another reason the king’s advisors hadn’t mentioned the possibility of Alfonso’s assassination.

‘Surely the King of Gallico would not go that far,’ was their common consensus.

Leo III, having just learned of this possibility, shared their opinion.

“Philip of Gallico is a Christian monarch, same as I, and Alfonso is his cousin. For a noble Christian monarch to assassinate the heir of a neighboring kingdom, to assassinate his own flesh and blood! He is not some pagan barbarian!”

But Ariadne did not yield an inch.

She would do anything to save Alfonso’s life, to save the last legacy Queen Marguerite had left behind.

The warm hand that had patted her shoulder. The unconditional protection she had received for the first time in her life.

“Your Majesty. Philip IV is a man who seized the throne with his brother’s blood on his hands.”

She cried out, her neck strained with passion.

“He is a man who would not give a fig for the teachings of the *Meditations*. He slit his own brother’s throat; he would dispose of a mere cousin without batting an eye!”

Hearing Ariadne’s words, Leo III began to feel a creeping anxiety.

He suddenly recalled what the returned Count Marquez had reported: ‘Prince Alfonso is being held like a prisoner in luxurious quarters.’

When he first heard it, he had thought the count was exaggerating the situation.

After all, he himself had not granted Lariesa de Valois the freedom to roam the entirety of Palazzo Carlo.

But if it was an expression of Philip IV’s intentions…

“I beseech your grace, Your Majesty! Please, save your own flesh and blood!”

Ariadne pleaded with Leo III as if she were coughing up blood. She looked ready to fall to her knees at his feet.

Leo III’s mood soured completely. He himself wasn’t exactly sure why.

Perhaps it was because the woman’s plea had crossed the line from pretty and pitiful to intensely ominous.

Leo III turned and began to climb the spiral staircase.

“Your Majesty!”

The irritated king did not look back at her as he spoke coldly.

“Return to your seat. And in the future, do not meddle in affairs that are not your station.”

As he coolly climbed the stairs one by one, leaving the Cardinal’s second daughter in her blue dress below, the king appeared utterly cold on the surface.

As if his brief audience with Ariadne had had no effect on him whatsoever.

But in his heart, a sliver of worry and doubt had already taken root.

* * *

Seated in the royal box of the Cathedral of San Ercole during the Grand Mass, Leo III barely listened to Cardinal de Mare’s sermon. He sank into the thick velvet sofa, lost in thought.

But his deliberation was not long.

He had always been a monarch who overcame crises with ‘creative’ ideas.

The king murmured quietly to his secretary, Sir Delpino.

“Delpino.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Bring me Cardinal de Mare. Secretly.”