Chapter 184

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 184
Chapter Title: A Surprise Gift
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Summoned by the King immediately after the Grand Mass, Cardinal de Mare could not shake a sense of foreboding.

‘I did not wish to get involved… Why on earth is he calling for me at a time like this?’

He had already offered the King a clever way to leverage Pope Ludovico’s influence.

His suggestion to sponsor the Third Crusade had been rejected by Leo III.

By now, the Archduke of Sternheim must have received funding from the King of Gallico. That meant war was imminent.

‘Even if he offers to sponsor them now…’

It was already too late to offer support. There was no time to coordinate with Pope Ludovico and Archduke Oldenburg of Sternheim.

Suppressing his unease, Cardinal de Mare walked through the corridors of the Palazzo Carlo.

He was not in a good mood.

Leo III summoning the Cardinal right after the Grand Mass was a stroke of luck for Ariadne.

Had the Cardinal learned that Ariadne had met with Leo III in private, she likely would have been severely reprimanded.

Today, the Cardinal was headed not to the King’s audience chamber, but to his office—a more personal space, closer to a study.

A palace attendant, rather than announcing the Cardinal’s arrival in a loud voice as was customary for official events, slipped inside, informed the King of his presence, and quietly opened the door.

“Your Majesty, Cardinal de Mare has come at your summons.”

The Cardinal entered the room and gave a slight bow to the King. Leo III turned around.

The King was still in the ceremonial robes he had worn for the Grand Mass.

He looked haggard, but his sharp blue eyes twinkled.

He seemed to have some sort of amusing idea. The Cardinal thought again.

‘Something is definitely not right…’

Upon seeing the Cardinal, Leo III’s face brightened.

“My dear Cardinal de Mare.”

Cardinal de Mare sensed that the King had a favor to ask of him today.

“Welcome, come, have a seat.”

The hospitality was so effusive it was almost cloying. As the Cardinal uncomfortably took a seat, the King personally retrieved a bottle of spirits from a cabinet and poured two glasses.

“With ice? Or straight?”

Ice in August was a remarkable luxury.

The Cardinal wanted to refuse such a thing, but he quickly changed his mind.

If he was going to be put through something, he might as well get a glass of ice out of it.

“With ice, please.”

“Just as I thought! A clergyman of our Kingdom of Etruscan knows how to drink!”

The King prepared two glasses of grappa with cold ice, placing one before the Cardinal and one before himself.

He asked in a suggestive tone.

“How are things at the Grand Cathedral of San Ercole?”

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s grace, everything is proceeding smoothly.”

“Good, good. The work at the Grand Cathedral is always busy. Compiling and storing the birth and death registers is a major task in itself.”

“One of a clergyman’s duties is to meticulously manage such everyday affairs to ensure there are no omissions.”

“Indeed, indeed! The clergy is truly remarkable!”

The sense of foreboding grew stronger.

“Which brings me to my point, Cardinal de Mare…”

The King began to speak with a peculiar expression.

After hearing the entirety of Leo III’s whispered request, Cardinal de Mare finally lost his temper.

“How can you even suggest such a thing, Your Majesty!”

Had the man sitting before him been anyone but the King, the Cardinal would have stormed out mid-sentence.

“To tamper with the birth registers!”

“It is not as serious as you think, Cardinal. I am not asking you to make Cesare a legitimate prince!”

Leo III gently tried to placate him.

“I am not asking you to alter the records of the living, merely to handsomely honor our deceased ancestors. Is that so difficult? Is it not something every dynasty does?”

The words, *Posthumously honoring ancestors is something done to gild the reputation of long-dead figures when a new dynasty begins! How is this the same as that?* rose to the tip of his tongue.

“This is not a normal situation! It not only deviates from the norm but will also undermine the trust in the Holy See.”

“Come now, Cardinal de Mare… Think about it. Do not refuse so bluntly. This is all for the good of the kingdom…”

Despite the firm refusal, Leo III’s pestering showed no signs of stopping.

Just as Cardinal de Mare was about to erupt in anger and demand what the King took the Holy See for, Leo III dangled a bait the Cardinal could not refuse.

“I shall grant a title.”

“…Pardon?”

“As a clergyman, it is difficult for you to receive a title.”

Those who held titles did not enter the clergy. This was because clergymen could not have legitimate children.

If a clergyman held a title, meaning he also served as the head of a noble house, that family could not produce a legitimate heir, and its line would end with that generation.

“But you have children, do you not? I, of all people, understand what it feels like to have children you cannot officially provide for. It is only natural for a father.”

Leo III cleared his throat.

“Once this situation settles down—yes, before the year is out—I shall grant one of your children a noble title in the Kingdom of Etruscan.”

Cardinal de Mare snapped his protesting mouth shut like a clamshell.

The pride of the Holy See… Of course, it was important. But not as important as his lifelong ambition to establish the House of de Mare.

The pride of the Holy See would remain lofty whether he defended it or not.

Leo III tempted Cardinal de Mare in a sweet voice.

“Of course, with so many eyes watching and the certain backlash from the nobility, I cannot grant a grand title from the start. But having a title versus not having one—that is the crux of the matter, is it not?”

Leo III was right. The presence or absence of a noble title was like an admission ticket to high society.

For now, he had managed to squeeze in through a side door thanks to his personal success as Cardinal de Mare.

But if they received a noble title, regardless of whether it was a barony or something else, they would earn the right to enter proudly through the front gate.

“If your family builds a sufficient record of merit, I will not be stingy with rewards. It is the initial bestowment of a title that is difficult, not its promotion, wouldn't you agree?”

The thought of becoming a noble family, of easily forming marital alliances and becoming one of ‘them’ without a struggle, made fresh, red blood seem to boil in the Cardinal’s aging veins.

He was a seasoned politician and diplomat, capable of hiding his emotions at will. But now, on the verge of his life’s ambition being realized, he was not confident his face maintained its usual impassive expression.

“Cardinal. Just decide which of your children you wish to grant the title to.”

Seeing the King press his advantage, he knew he had been read.

“The end of this year—yes, around November or December would be good. No, if you wish, I can grant it as soon as this disturbance subsides.”

The King’s urgency told him he had only been half-read.

Cardinal de Mare felt a sense of relief and looked the King straight in the eye.

“In that case, Your Majesty.”

Cardinal de Mare lowered his voice as well and began to state his own conditions to Leo III.

They discussed the date the deed must be done, the deadline, the method of announcement, the extent of the alterations to the birth register, how discreet it must be, and the title to be received, including whether it came with an estate.

In all matters of the world, negotiation was essential.

* * *

*Clang!*

The prison door swung open with a loud noise.

Countess Rubina, who had been huddled in the darkness, flinched and shot her head up.

“Cesare… Is that you, Cesare?”

Until now, Countess Rubina had been locked away alone in the prison.

Her son, who had visited her faithfully, had disappeared two months ago after telling her with an unusually grave expression to “be careful,” and she hadn’t seen a trace of him since.

Nor had any officials come to interrogate her.

Relying on a single candle, Countess Rubina had thrashed about in the darkness, alone with her worst fears and terrors.

But the person who appeared was unexpected.

“Lady Rubina, I have come for you under the order of His Majesty the King.”

Sir Delpianosa, Leo III’s secretary, had entered her cell.

“Have you… come to execute me?”

Countess Rubina asked in a trembling voice.

It was a courage she could muster only because Sir Delpianosa himself had come, not an executioner or a prison guard, which made her think they wouldn't actually behead her.

As expected, Sir Delpianosa bowed deeply, looking extremely apologetic.

“No, of course not. I have come to escort you. You are to return to the court immediately, rest for a little, and after preparing yourself, attend tomorrow’s ceremony.”

“What ceremony…?”

“You will find out when you get there.”

* * *

Cesare, who had been holed up in his residence playing dead, also received a sudden summons from the King.

“Count de Como, a message from His Majesty the King.”

Cesare, who had been drunk since broad daylight, sat up groggily and stared at the palace attendant with bleary eyes.

The Count’s clothes were in a state of utter disarray.

He was half-sprawled on a chaise lounge in his private chambers, wearing only a robe with a belt barely tied around his waist.

“The message is for you to come to the palace at once.”

“Now? At once?”

Count Cesare smiled languidly.

“Why? Does His Majesty wish to take my head?”

He downed the sparkling wine in his hand in one gulp. A couple of empty wine bottles were already rolling on the floor.

“A man who can take anything I possess, including my head, whenever he pleases—why would he be in such a hurry?”

Cesare fell back with a thud.

“I’m not going. I can’t. You’ve seen it with your own eyes. Tell him Count Cesare is in such a frightful state that he is in no condition to answer the summons.”

It was a pretense, wrapped in the concern that scurrying to the palace at once might make him seem ambitious, but it was, in truth, an act of inner rebellion.

*You can take everything from me, but you cannot have my willing cooperation.*

Cesare opened a new bottle of wine.

*Pop!*

The cork came out with a nimble flick of his wrist.

*I can still uncork a bottle in one go, so I must not be too drunk,* the young count thought as he poured wine into his glass until it overflowed.

“My lord… It’s just that…”

The palace attendant, not knowing what to do, began to speak.

“You may be able to postpone your visit today, but you absolutely must be at the palace for tomorrow afternoon’s event.”

“What on earth is it?”

“It is…”

After hearing the attendant’s explanation, Cesare’s eyes widened. He felt as if he had sobered up in an instant.

No, wait, fireworks were going off in his head. Perhaps the alcohol had truly kicked in.

“What did you say?!”

“Therefore, you must prepare for tomorrow…”

“Shut up. Wait for one hour.”

Count Cesare shot to his feet and swept back his brilliant red hair.

“I’ll get ready and leave at once.”