Chapter 195

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: An Effort to Turn the Tides
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While rumors spread that Ariadne was incredibly wealthy—or more precisely, that Ariadne de Mare had stockpiled grain and was the richest young lady to have had her début in the capital—Alfonso was suffering the complete opposite fate in Yesak.

It was a situation he had never before faced in his short life.

Aboard the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg’s ship, he had never needed to worry about room and board.

He slept in a cabin, and for meals, he simply joined the rest of the crew for the food provided to all.

But after the ship docked near Yesak in the Latgalin region and everyone disembarked, they found themselves with no tents of their own, no spare rations, and no gold coins to procure supplies locally.

“...Your Highness. These are the supplies sent by the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg.”

Sir Elko reported grimly.

He carried a small amount of food on his back and added that a few more tents would be arriving.

The Etruscan prince’s party numbered twelve in total, and what they had would barely last them three weeks, even if they rationed it carefully.

Sir Elko’s report continued.

“If we begin our march from Latgalin, it will take over a month to reach Yesak. Considering the infantry’s pace, and the stops we’ll make at garrisons along the way…”

Sir Manfredi spoke in a heavy tone.

“With this…”

It wasn’t nearly enough.

Things might be different if a proper battle broke out and they could earn spoils of war, but according to the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg’s strategy meetings—to which Prince Alfonso had barely been granted a seat at the far end of the table—there were no plans for any urban assaults that might yield decent plunder anytime soon.

If there were no plans for an attack, they would have to make use of the local facilities.

“Is there a city nearby where we can trade?”

“Yes. While not a major city, the respectably sized city of Valianti is close by.”

“...Take this to a pawnshop and exchange it for gold coins.”

Prince Alfonso unfastened the pouch at his side and emptied out the jewelry and precious metals inside.

Finally, he even removed the golden brooch that secured the epaulet on his shoulder, added it to the pile of valuables, and handed it to Sir Manfredi.

The only valuable thing the prince kept was the Etruscan prince’s signet ring on his finger.

“...Your Highness.”

Sir Manfredi was at a loss for words. Sir Elko quietly bit his lip, and Sir Bernardino wiped the tip of his nose.

Prince Alfonso calmly comforted his knights.

“These things aren’t important. They can all be replaced once we return to our homeland.”

He deliberately put on a cheerful front to encourage them.

“All that matters is that we survive. Staying alive is the most important thing. We have to eat. The rest comes and goes. Understand?”

“...If that’s the case.”

Sir Manfredi sighed and pulled a pouch from his coat.

Inside were various trinkets befitting the fashionable knight: an ivory comb, silver buttons, and jeweled cufflinks.

“Add this to the pile.”

Sir Manfredi took out only a single golden locket from the pouch and put it around his neck.

“As the third son, I don’t even have a signet ring to leave behind… and if I sell the token my fiancée gave me, I’m pretty sure she’ll kill me, so I’ll just keep this.”

“That woman would do more than just kill you.”

Sir Bernardino chuckled, recalling Sir Manfredi’s fiancée.

“Wouldn’t she be furious that you disposed of what she considers her future assets without her permission?”

“Signora Bedelia is not that kind of woman!”

Sir Manfredi feigned anger.

“It’s because you’re so consumed by that victim mentality that you’ve become an old bachelor!”

“Hey!”

Though he snapped back at Sir Manfredi, Sir Bernardino also began fumbling for his own pouch.

“...I have no signet ring and no fiancée. Just take the whole thing.”

Sir Manfredi teased him from the side.

“Wow, that’s heavy. I’ll be sure to trade this for some good wine.”

“Ha! I’ll run the errand! Your Highness! I don’t trust that man.”

With the exception of Sir Elko, who had already been thoroughly relieved of his possessions during his time as a Gallican prisoner, the rest of the knights pooled their valuables and presented them to Prince Alfonso.

“Please use this, Your Highness!”

Alfonso blinked, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

He was filled with self-loathing, wondering how pathetic he must be to have to rely on his subordinates’ personal property.

Noticing this, Sir Manfredi gave the prince a gentle nudge with his shoulder.

“Think of it as a loan.”

Sir Bernardino patted Prince Alfonso’s head.

It was a gesture only possible for a close aide who had been like an uncle to the prince since he was young.

“Pay us back with interest.”

“...I will.”

Alfonso composed himself and accepted the pouch filled with their contributions.

“Let’s manage this well and hold on.”

He asked Sir Elko.

“Still no word from our homeland?”

“Not yet…”

Sir Manfredi quickly tried to lift the mood.

“Considering the travel time, it’s not really time for a reply to have arrived yet, is it?”

Prince Alfonso had sent a letter to his home country from their first port of call.

In it, he explained to his father what had happened in the Kingdom of Gallico, informed him of his successful escape, and mentioned that he was heading to Yesak with the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg’s Third Crusade.

He had also asked for his father’s judgment on when would be the right time to return to Etruscan.

The prince had requested that a warship be dispatched if possible, as he would need a means of transport to return separately from the army. If that was not feasible, he had pleaded for ample travel funds to ensure a safe journey back.

After all, the sole heir to a throne, wandering the high seas infested with enemy ships and pirates after leaving his nation’s borders, was a rare and tempting prize.

If he were captured by pirates and a ransom had to be paid, it would be a tremendous blow to the nation’s honor.

“...Let’s send another letter.”

There would be no harm in sending his father another letter to press the matter.

Besides, this time he planned to finally write the other letters he hadn't had the chance to send in his haste and include them as well.

…In San Carlo, Ariadne must be worried about him.

He didn’t believe what Lariesa had said—that his woman had betrayed him and sided with his brother—but he longed to receive a warm letter from Ari herself.

“The ship from the Republic of Porto that dropped us off last week is scheduled to return late this week.”

“Why are they leaving so late?”

“They’re conducting some local trade while they’re here. Just like merchants, aren’t they?”

The Republic of Porto, acting as transporters, had accepted their payment for ferrying the Third Crusade to Latgalin entirely in ducat gold coins.

Unlike the other participating nations, they had not joined the campaign for the glory of God.

“Well, that’s fortunate for us. It means we can send our letters when they return.”

Alfonso gave his orders.

“Sir Bernardino, go to Valianti and visit the pawnshop.”

“What? Weren’t you sending me? Do you really not trust me!”

Sir Manfredi protested. Alfonso smiled and joked with him.

“If I sent you, I’m afraid you’d trade everything for wine instead of gold coins.”

Alfonso looked at his knights and spoke with a bright expression. This would surely lift everyone’s spirits.

“The rest of you, write letters to send home. We’ll send them all together with the Porto merchants on their way back.”

The knights’ faces brightened in unison. All except one.

“Hey, don’t I get to write a letter?”

This time, it was Sir Bernardino who protested. Alfonso replied with a smile.

“You don’t have anyone to write to, do you?”

“Your Highness!”

Even cornered as they were, they could still laugh because they had each other.

While they laughed, they could forget their worries, their fear of starvation, and the scornful looks from the other, more proper soldiers.

This, too, would one day become a memory they could share with a smile. They had to believe that, if nothing else.

* * *

At that very moment, in the Kingdom of Etruscan, criticism was mounting against the prince who had not sent a single letter.

“Why is there no word from that boy!”

Leo III lamented, sitting in his private chambers.

Clad only in a light robe, the king was attended to by Countess Rubina—or rather, the Duchess of Pisano—who sat casually by his side.

“You must be worried, Your Majesty.”

She offered Leo III a luscious grape and added slyly.

“Seeing as the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg’s missive arrived safely, it’s not as if he’s in a situation where he can’t send letters at all, I imagine.”

The Grand Duke of Yuldenburg, who had set sail for Yesak with Prince Alfonso, had sent an official letter to the Kingdom of Etruscan about a month after leaving the Kingdom of Gallico.

The letter stated, ‘Though it was not planned in advance, the Etruscan heir to the throne, Prince Alfonso, showed a strong desire to participate in the holy war. In the spirit of spreading greater mercy, he is accompanying us to Yesak. I ask for the Etruscan king’s generous understanding.’

“I know, right! Is it so difficult to write a single letter to his own father?”

Leo III, completely devoid of any reflection or remorse for what he had done to his son, believed he was naturally entitled to receive a letter.

“...Still, I must admit, I’m proud of him.”

But his son’s resourcefulness was a welcome development even for him.

The day news arrived that Prince Alfonso had successfully escaped the Kingdom of Gallico, the Etruscan royal court was in a festive mood.

Since there was no one else left in the royal family, it was, to be precise, only Leo III who was elated.

The Kingdom of Gallico had tried to conceal Prince Alfonso’s disappearance from Etruscan until the very end, but they couldn’t bury all the strange circumstances.

Through several sources, the Kingdom of Etruscan had learned that Prince Alfonso had abruptly stopped attending official functions and had not been seen in public.

Furthermore, aside from a few at the beginning, none of Prince Alfonso’s letters had reached his homeland.

Leo III and his ministers had begun to seriously worry whether the Kingdom of Gallico had truly harmed the heir to the throne.

It was in the midst of this that the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg’s letter had arrived.

“He escaped on his own merit. He’s eased this father’s worries. I thought he was still just a brat, but he's proven himself a worthy heir to the throne.”

Rubina felt her insides twist, but she managed to put on her most affectionate smile.

“Indeed. He’s all grown up now.”

“That’s why I was thinking.”

Leo III began.

“Shouldn’t we send the boy something? He must be feeling out of place, stuck among the crusaders all by himself, don’t you think?”

The king was concerned about the prince’s predicament, joining a multinational army with such a small retinue.

“He was sent to Gallico as an envoy, so he doesn’t have many men, nor much in the way of military funds, does he?”

“I imagine not.”

“On the battlefield, every breath you take and every move you make costs money.”

Leo III weighed the options in his head.

“Would it be better to dispatch a small company of knights, or should I send him funds?”

If the prince wished to remain active in the field before returning, a small contingent of knights would be best. If not, and he wished to return immediately, sending gold would be the better choice.

“I can’t even discuss it with him if I can’t get in touch! He’s impossible, just impossible!”

As Leo III vented his frustration again, Duchess Rubina lightly tossed out some bait.

“Oh, Your Majesty. You are far too merciful.”

*Me, merciful?*

The unexpected compliment left Leo III momentarily flustered, but not displeased, as Duchess Rubina began to earnestly fan the flames.

“You must be the only father in the world who would consider sending funds and knights to a son who ran off to the lands of Latgalin on his own whim, without so much as a single report to his king and father.”

She gently massaged his shoulder line as she added one more remark.

“To not send a single letter to his father even after safely escaping the Kingdom of Gallico… is he not a terribly unfilial son?”