Chapter 204

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: A Special Person
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Cesare appeared in the drawing room of Pisano Castle within fifteen minutes. He looked disheveled.

Though he had tried to tidy himself up in the short time he had, he still looked utterly disheveled to Ariadne.

“My dear débutante, what brings you all the way out here?”

He asked, combing his fingers through his tousled hair.

“And after you so triumphantly kicked me out last time.”

Ariadne retorted with a faint smile.

“I just heard a rumor the kingdom was on the brink of collapse.”

Cesare frowned. When he was feeling more himself, Ariadne was the perfect sparring partner.

Her witty, sharp remarks set his soul on fire.

He had met every young lady in high society, but he had never met another woman like her.

But when he was not at his best, she was the worst person to see.

Her stabbing words could be incredibly painful. His face tightened as he asked.

“What in the world are these rumors?”

For the Cesare of this moment, it was a crucial question.

Ariadne let out a short sigh. *Ah.* That face. It was one she knew all too well.

Whenever Cesare wore that expression, things always took a turn for the worse. A cold feeling settled in her chest.

Irrational anger, illogical tantrums. A past where everything, no matter what, became her fault. She suddenly felt as if her past life was chasing her, and she wanted nothing more than to flee this very spot.

But when she happened to glance down, a brilliant halo of light shimmered at the tips of her right hand.

“…”

*You want me to help Cesare… no, to protect the Gaeta territory and drive out the Gallican army, don't you?*

The halo of light flickered enthusiastically, as if in understanding.

*Yes. This must be it. The power that sent me back in time. The one who gave me a second chance to do everything over again. This must be my calling.*

As Ariadne was lost in thought, Cesare's anxious voice struck her ear.

“…So what exactly are the rumors?”

She snapped back to reality.

*In the past, he would have started shouting at me by now.*

*He hasn't changed for the better; it's probably just because I'm still young,* she thought.

She reminded herself of her vow to never get close to him.

“Just that the Gallican army isn't withdrawing from the border.”

Ariadne gave a vague answer, careful not to provoke Cesare, and composed herself.

She was not here today for any romantic entanglement. She was here on business. All she had to do was handle it cleanly and leave.

“Are you still looking for grain?”

“Hah, had a change of heart, have you?”

He spat out cynically.

“What good is grain? There are no soldiers to accept it as pay.”

“In times of chaos, if you have food and gold, soldiers will naturally flock to you.”

She offered a casual word of comfort, but it did not seem to help much. Placating people was not her forte.

She tried a few more words, but Cesare's reaction remained sullen, so she gathered the hem of her dress.

“If you don't need anything, I'll be on my way.”

“…No, wait.”

As expected, Cesare stopped her at once. It seemed, however, that he had not sorted out in his head what he needed to do.

This was Cesare, precisely when he was overloaded.

Ariadne sighed, stood up, and tucked his bird's-nest-like hair behind his ear.

“What's troubling you so much?”

Cesare looked up at Ariadne, his expression one of surprise.

But the surprise in his aquamarine eyes was not an unpleasant one; it was the joy of a child who had found comfort in an unexpected place.

“…What's gotten into you, my lady? I didn't know you could be so gentle.”

Ariadne replied without a trace of a smile.

“I'm trying to sell some grain.”

*Got to take care of the customer.*

But Cesare seemed to take it as a joke. Greatly pleased, he began to share what was on his mind.

“I feel like I'm going crazy.”

The past few days, spent in isolation in the Pisano territory, had eaten away at Cesare.

Like a fish returned to water, he poured out his heart to Ariadne.

“So, what you're worried about is having to accomplish an impossible task with an absurdly small number of troops.”

“Exactly!”

“It sounds like the goal was flawed from the start.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The moronic idea of driving out the Gallican heavy cavalry with these forces couldn't have been your own.”

“…”

Ariadne was right. Cesare blinked his aquamarine eyes, searching for the cause of his predicament.

“…My mother.”

She was the one who sent Cesare, who had been hiding out nicely in the capital, to the Pisano territory. She was the one who spread the story throughout the capital that the Duke of Pisano was in charge of defending the border. She was the one who, while talking of him being the commander-in-chief, pushed him into a corner with her tone, implying he was responsible not just for defending Pisano but for the entire border region. And now, she had even sent all the private soldiers conscripted from nobles across the country to Cesare, shifting all the responsibility onto him. It was all the doing of Countess Rubina.

“Those troops were actually supposed to go to Gaeta.”

Ariadne nodded. The Gallican heavy cavalry was currently threatening Gaeta Castle in the Gaeta territory.

The Pisano territory was merely on the border. Sending all the troops here was a result of Countess Rubina's greed.

“I can't just refuse the private soldiers now and send them all to Gaeta. In the end, I have to do something, but what?”

Ariadne posed a slightly different question.

“Why do you feel you have to fulfill all the responsibilities and duties your mother sets for you?”

“Because…”

*Because I always have.*

As Cesare was at a loss for words, Ariadne's next question flew at him.

“When your mother is satisfied, are you happy?”

“…For a very brief moment.”

“So that happiness doesn't last long.”

“Because as soon as I complete one task, the next mission is already waiting.”

“When are *you* happy?”

Cesare opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. The answer that came to mind was too… pathetic.

*‘…When I am loved.’*

When someone showered him with love, expecting nothing in return. When a face, ecstatic and full of adoration, was looking only at him.

He was flustered and scrubbed his face with his hands. A strange realization washed over him.

*‘Is that… why I did it?’*

Until now, the only people who had given him unconditional love were the fleeting women he had pursued so madly.

Other than them, no one had ever given unconditional love to Cesare, the king's bastard son.

People always wanted something from Cesare. His mother, and the king whom he was embarrassed to even call father, were no different.

The higher his status grew, the more handsome he became as he went from boy to young man, the more intense Cesare's hunger became.

*Is that woman perhaps aiming for the position of mistress of the House of de Como? Is this woman only infatuated with my face, and will she turn away from me as if she never loved me once I gain weight and grow old?*

“…”

*‘I am happy when I am loved.’*

It was such a simple answer, but he could not bring himself to say it.

The usual him would have seized the opportunity, clinging to her and saying, ‘So if you want to make me happy, you should give me some love,’ or even pushing further with, ‘If you love me, shouldn't you at least give me a kiss?’

Wasn't this the perfect situation to make a move on a woman? Acting weak, clinging to her to stir her pity and maternal instincts. It was a killer move that always worked.

But for some reason, the thought of saying those words, especially in front of Ariadne, was unbearably shameful.

It must have been because it was his true heart. His naked, true desire to be loved.

“…”

Cesare blinked a couple of times. Tears had welled up in his eyes.

He did not want her to see, so he turned his head slightly to the side, but that sharp-eyed woman noticed the tears in his eyes with uncanny perception and offered him a handkerchief.

Taking the handkerchief, Cesare finally burst into tears.

Was it a result of the combined shame of being caught and the relief that there was nothing left to hide?

“Ugh…!”

A grown man, bawling in front of a woman. This was hardly fitting for Duke Cesare, the capital's notorious rake.

If word of this got out, he would die of embarrassment.

He used the handkerchief on his unending tears for a long while, and when the first one was soaked through, Ariadne silently offered him a second.

Only after he had used the second handkerchief as well did his tears finally stop.

He wiped his nose and examined the handkerchief in his hand.

- Ari. d. Mare

The first handkerchief had been a plain one with no embroidery, but it seemed she only had one spare.

The second was a personal, embroidered handkerchief, the kind young ladies carried close to their person.

With his eyes swollen and puffy, Cesare sniffled and threw out a joke. He wanted to say anything to break the mood.

“Hey, are you giving this to me? I'm honored.”

A handkerchief with initials was often given as a token to a lover. Ariadne scowled and held out her hand.

“Give it back.”

His mood was genuinely starting to improve.

“No, what's given is mine.”

She reached out to snatch the handkerchief back, but Cesare quickly leaned back, dodging her hand.

They scuffled for a moment, and in the end, Cesare managed to grab both of Ariadne's wrists with one hand while stuffing the handkerchief into his trousers with his other.

“There. Are you going to take it now?”

“…”

Ariadne, her face flushed, was glaring at the space between Cesare's legs.

She looked both embarrassed and angry. Cesare found the situation so amusing he felt like he was about to burst out laughing.

“…Wash it and send it back.”

*I'll burn it when I get it back.*

“We'll see how you behave, my lady!”

Cesare teased Ariadne with a grin.

Seeing that he had regained his spirits, Ariadne sighed and pressed him.

“Shall we talk business?”

“Business? What business?”

“Are you just going to charge the sixteen thousand Gallican soldiers with your fifteen hundred private troops?”

“…Ah.”

Cesare's face immediately darkened.

“And what grain will you use to feed those fifteen hundred soldiers? Do you have enough in your storehouses?”

He did not. The fields were full of unharvested wheat, but inside the castle, even the rats were beginning to starve. That was the current situation in the Pisano territory.

“Listen up.”

Ariadne sat Duke Cesare, his face stained with tears, down at the drawing room desk and picked up a quill and parchment.

For Cesare to take advice on military or administrative matters from a woman, and a younger one at that, was once an unimaginable event.

It had never happened in this life, of course, nor had it in his past life, of which he was unaware.

This was also why he had not gotten along with his fiancée, Ariadne, who had been acting as the Princess Regent.

Ariadne had only wanted to help her fiancé, but he thought his woman was overstepping her bounds by giving him advice.

*Why is this person, who is supposed to just love me, trying to teach me? She must think I'm inadequate and is trying to change me into someone more to her liking.*

*She doesn't love me for who I am.*

He did not realize it, but his hatred for his mother, Countess Rubina, might have been projected onto her.

Later, out of sheer stubbornness, he would stick to his own ways even when Ariadne was right, fiercely resisting all her suggestions in advance for fear of hearing her say, ‘See? What did I tell you?’

Eventually, he came to despise the very act of her bringing up matters of policy.

But now, he obediently stared at Ariadne's fingertips.

“Yes. They're wide open, my lady.”

Ariadne shot him a small glare at his cheekiness.

Even her glare seemed beautiful. Cesare smiled and met her gaze again.

He had always wanted her. She was the most brilliant jewel in the capital.

But was she, herself, special? No.

She was merely a target, one that could be replaced at any time should a more beautiful or wittier woman appear.

But now, his heart stirred in a way he could not comprehend.

On a completely different level, she was beginning to become special to him.

It was a feeling Duke Cesare had never once experienced in his entire life.