Chapter 200

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: The Virtue of Flexibility
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The moment the “Duke of Pisano” set foot in the domain of Pisano, upon entering the border city of Guignelli, its capital, he realized something was wrong.

“…”

The hostility and suspicion in the eyes of the people pricked his skin.

*It doesn’t matter what the commoners think, as long as the army is in order,* Cesare told himself, but his hopes were brutally shattered upon entering the barracks.

It wasn’t a matter of discipline. The barracks were empty.

“Where has everyone gone? Are they training?”

An old official, who had worked there since the old Duke of Pisano was a young man, let out a smirk.

The handsome young duke’s voice trembled, though he feigned composure. The official answered, laughing inwardly.

“Training, you say? Hardly. They’ve all gone home.”

The new Duke of Pisano’s eyes narrowed.

“Desertion?”

“Heavens, if you call this desertion, a quarter of the men in this domain will lose their heads.”

According to the official, the force that should have numbered 6,000 had already dwindled to around 2,000 after the old Duke of Pisano’s death.

Moreover, since the recent surge in grain prices, the remaining soldiers had been leaving their posts in droves.

“Their salaries aren’t enough to put food on their families’ tables. The price of grain has skyrocketed, you see. There’s no harvest to be had outside the walls right now.”

The domain of Pisano was situated right next to Gaeta. Gaeta was at the easternmost edge of the border, and Pisano was just beside it.

Naturally, outside the city walls, Gallican cavalry were pillaging homesteads like fish in water. Rumors of women and girls being abducted, one or two at a time, had also begun to circulate.

“Able-bodied men are going out in groups to guard harvesters, carrying out surprise harvests and returning. As that line of work became popular, the barracks emptied right out.”

The official added that they didn’t even need to harvest from their own fields.

He explained that they would enter any field they could find, harvest quickly, and return.

The northern part of the kingdom was currently in a state of collapsing security.

“When does the harvest season end in this region?”

Cesare hesitated for a moment before asking another question.

“The soldiers will return, won’t they?”

The old, low-ranking official looked at the young duke with an expression that suggested he was about to burst into laughter.

He managed to school his features into a semblance of propriety as he answered the fledgling noble.

“That’s something we’ll only know when the time comes.”

Whether they returned depended entirely on the price of grain at that time, and whether the salary paid by the Duke of Pisano could cover it.

Since inflation couldn’t be predicted, it was not an appropriate question to answer now.

But Cesare took it as a challenge to his authority.

His face turned crimson as he glared at the junior official. But this was not the time for an outburst.

*Patience. This is my first day in the domain.*

Though he disliked the man, he needed his help to grasp the situation.

If he rashly had him beheaded, he couldn’t be sure how the people of the domain would react.

“Who do I need to see to be briefed on the state of the granaries?”

He asked the official with forced patience. The man grinned, revealing rotten front teeth.

“That would be me.”

Cesare, accustomed to the elegance and splendor of the capital, instinctively grimaced at the state of the man’s teeth.

He mentally chided himself for the slip in his composure. But the official’s next words made him scowl openly.

“There’s no need to go see them. They’re empty.”

***

Ariadne was getting ready for bed, having finished her daily tasks. San Carlo was settling deep into autumn.

Light summer clothes had all been replaced with thick satin dresses.

She had removed the heavy garments and sat before her vanity in just her chemise, ready to remove her makeup.

“Um… My lady.”

Sancha stood at the entrance to the bedroom and called to Ariadne. Anna was just about to wipe her face with cosmetic water.

Ariadne turned her head to look at Sancha.

“You have a visitor.”

Ariadne frowned.

“At this hour?”

There was another thing that bothered her.

“I told you to refuse all outside visitors.”

The entire family was refraining from going out.

Isabella was practically a prisoner, and Ippolito’s finances were severely restricted. Even Cardinal de Mare was heeding his younger daughter’s words.

The Cardinal worked from home as much as possible, avoiding trips outside.

San Carlo was in an uproar over the plague.

Though not many showed symptoms, its spread was rapid.

It had seemed to subside for a moment after Leo III’s frantic efforts to expel most of the gypsies and foreigners, but soon the plague began to spread quietly among those who could never be driven out—wealthy merchants and respected local elders.

The method of targeting specific races or occupations for expulsion from the city was becoming ineffective.

Recently, the first high-ranking noble had fallen victim to it. All of San Carlo was trembling in fear.

“Well… it wasn’t someone our gatekeeper could refuse…”

“Who is it? A guest of mine?”

She couldn’t imagine anyone who might visit her that her gatekeeper would not only fail to refuse but would grant entry without even asking her first.

Giulia? She had sent a letter, so Giulia should also be staying indoors.

The people from Ragione Tailors, or rather, Ragione Linens? The gatekeeper would have had no trouble refusing them.

Then was it Caruso, the head of the Boccanegra Company?

But the visitor was someone entirely unexpected.

“Count Cesare… no, the Duke of Pisano.”

Cesare? Ariadne’s mood soured instantly. She had no business to discuss with him. That meant his reason for visiting was obvious.

A man with no sense of priority.

*The capital is in chaos, and he’s so blinded by a woman that he barges into someone else’s house?*

But she completely understood why the gatekeeper couldn’t turn him away at the door.

A mere gatekeeper of a cardinal’s household could not possibly drive away the Duke of Pisano, whose influence in the capital was growing by the day.

*So I’m the one who has to say the unpleasant things.*

Ariadne sighed softly, resolving to get Cesare out of her house as quickly as possible and ensure he never came back.

“Bring me my indoor gown.”

She tied up the hair she had let down.

***

When Ariadne entered the guest drawing room, Cesare was turned away from her, looking out the window.

*What’s with the dramatic pose?*

She felt a flash of irritation.

A man who storms into a woman’s home in the middle of this chaos should at least have the decency to acknowledge her presence when she appears, even if he didn’t bring a bouquet.

And so, her words came out sharp.

Her voice, slightly husky in the late evening hour that was turning into early night, delivered a cold rebuke.

“You still have no manners, I see.”

She expected Cesare to retort with a smooth line.

But he turned around without a word and simply gazed at her. His watery blue eyes looked exhausted.

“Sorry.”

Though he tried to sound composed, his voice was dejected.

She finally noticed his attire. Unlike the ever-elegant king’s bastard son, his outer coat was a mess, caked in dust and dirt.

His boots were scuffed, and upon closer inspection, his hair was matted and disheveled from being under a hat.

Ariadne asked, bewildered.

“Is something wrong…?”

Cesare looked at her with moist eyes, then opened his lips reluctantly.

“…Help me.”

Ariadne shivered with a sense of déjà vu. This expression, this tone of voice… she had seen them before.

“…What are you plotting?”

In her past life, Count Cesare de Como had come to his fiancée before staging his coup, pleading with just such an expression.

He needed a messenger to send outside the city walls, and she was the only one he could ask.

“What in the world do you take me for?”

But this life’s Cesare de Carlo wrinkled his handsome forehead.

“Do you really see me as such irredeemable trash?”

*Yes.*

Ariadne, who had agreed without thinking, placed a hand over her lips, wondering if the word had escaped.

“This is a matter of state. I need food.”

He had said it was for the good of the nation back then, too.

“I was commanded to rebuild the border garrison and was dispatched to the domain of Pisano.”

“…I heard something about that.”

“The situation is dire.”

He rubbed his temples.

“The granaries are empty, and the soldiers have fled. The situation on the border is far worse than in the markets of San Carlo. The price of grain has risen so steeply that it’s better to carry grain than gold coins.”

Ariadne said nothing, merely watching Cesare carefully.

“Rumor has it you have more than half of the capital’s wheat reserves.”

Cesare took a step toward Ariadne. She instinctively took a step back.

“Sell it to me.”

This, too, was déjà vu.

— “Won’t you sell me the ‘Heart of the Deep Blue Sea’?”

It was from this life, but they were words she truly hated to hear.

But perhaps because someone else had since entered her heart, it didn’t ache as much as it had then.

She raised the corners of her lips in a mischievous smile and asked.

“Will you be paying with the ‘Swan of Linville’ this time as well?”

Cesare looked at her, slightly dumbfounded.

“You still remember that?”

He smiled a little.

“You really do like the ‘Swan of Linville,’ don’t you, my lady?”

Cesare recalled the brooch, a pear-shaped diamond set with pearls. What was it about that diamond that made this woman so obsessed?

“If you want it, you shall have it. I am the one buying the grain, so it is only right that the payment method follows the creditor’s wishes.”

He strode forward and looked directly at her. He was so close she could feel his breath.

Ariadne tried to take another step back, but her back was already against a decorative cabinet. She turned her head slightly to the side.

“The amount of wheat I need is 4,500 cantari. I’ll pay a total of 1,500 ducats. What do you say?”

It was enough to feed about 3,000 men for half a year.

1,500 ducats was about double the price before the surge, but in the current situation, where prices had more than tripled and were still climbing to unfathomable heights, it was a meager sum.

Cesare whispered to her in the closed space between them.

“I’ll leave the ‘Swan of Linville’ with you in advance.”

The ‘Swan of Linville,’ a token of love.

“I’ll need to keep buying wheat, so let’s consider it a down payment. Secure my supply; don’t sell it to anyone else.”

A whisper that blurred the line between love and business. Cesare had always been like that.

“Let’s begin a long-term relationship. Sell to me.”

Cesare smiled charmingly, bringing his face very close to Ariadne’s lips.

He was as handsome as a marble sculpture. He likely wasn’t even imagining the possibility of refusal.