Chapter 214

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 214
Chapter Title: Crossed Affections
-----------------------------------------------------------------
To my Ari.

Is something wrong? I haven't received a single reply from you. I worry that something may have happened to you.

If you can't write a long letter, even a blank one would be enough. Please, just send me a reply.

You can entrust your letter to the Republic of Porto's supply ship that carries my letters; they'll deliver it.

Last week's battle was fierce. Until now, they've been minor skirmishes on the outskirts, but now we're starting to push into the core territories and are facing major battles.

I had to kill a comrade with my own hands as he lay on the battlefield, grievously wounded and screaming in agony.

I did it to grant him peace, but I wonder if what I did was right in the eyes of God.

But my hands are already stained with the blood of hundreds of heathens. I suppose this is all just hypocrisy.

Can a man like me still be worthy of your love? I miss your eyes. I miss your touch.

I wish you, pure and free from sin, would touch my cheek and tell me it's alright that I'm a sinner, that you love me all the same.

Even if I fall into hell and burn in the fires of brimstone, I will protect you for eternity.

So that you may live forever in peace within the safety of my embrace, never having to witness the filth of this world.

- Awaiting your reply, your Alfonso.

Alfonso folded the letter tightly and tucked it into a coarse envelope. It was the fourth unanswered letter he had sent to Ariadne.

He melted wax and sealed the envelope firmly with the prince's signet, then summoned a man and instructed him to entrust the letter to the Republic of Porto's fleet, which was bound for the central continent at the end of the month.

After handing over the letter, Alfonso let out a soft sigh.

He was growing far too accustomed to this barren land, overflowing with blood, slaughter, and religion. Forgetting what it was to be human, he was becoming a war machine day by day.

When will it end?

* * *

The envelope, stamped with Prince Alfonso's seal, made its way from the military camp to the Republic of Porto's support troops.

From there, it safely crossed to the central continent with the Republic's fleet, which was returning home to sell off goods plundered from the locals.

However, the letter was delivered not to its intended destination in the Kingdom of Etruscan, but to the Grand Duke of Eude in the Kingdom of Gallico.

“Your Highness, the item you requested has arrived.”

And so, it finally fell into Grand Duchess Lariesa's hands.

Her eyes bloodshot, Lariesa snatched the worn-out envelope from the maid's hand.

To Lariesa, who led a splendid and peaceful life in the capital of Montpellier, the parchment envelope, stained with sweat, sea salt, and blood, felt alien.

But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the shabby, foreign object.

Standing right where she was, Lariesa began to tear open the envelope in a frenzy, then suddenly realized how unladylike she must look and shrieked at her maid.

“Get out! Get the hell out!”

The maid scurried from the room, and Lariesa, now alone, haltingly read the first line of the letter.

“To my… Ari…”

It was a foreign language, so she first sounded out the words without understanding their meaning. A second later, the significance of what she had read dawned on her, and she threw the letter to the floor and wailed.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh—!!!”

A desperate confession of love. After not seeing her for over half a year. After hearing that the woman had betrayed him.

Why on earth are you clinging to that wretched cardinal's bastard! When I'm right here, looking only at you!

Lariesa simply could not comprehend it. In her world, Lariesa de Valois was unquestionably superior to Ariadne de Mare.

Bloodline! Legitimacy! Devotion to Alfonso! The reputation of a pious maiden, born to two parents blessed by God and raised with a fine education! She lacked nothing.

“So why in the world!”

Lariesa's eyes were so bloodshot that the capillaries began to burst.

One of her eyes now completely crimson, Lariesa picked up the prince's letter she had thrown to the floor.

It was written in his usual thick, messy script, the letters pressed hard into the paper with blue ink.

“Lari! Lari! The only one for you is your fiancée, Lari!”

Grand Duchess Lariesa picked up a red quill.

Dipping the quill deep into ink as red as blood, Lariesa began to add to Alfonso's letter as if possessed.

“Lari!!!”

She went through the letter and added a capital 'L' before every instance of the name “Ari,” changing it to “LAri.”

The bright red capital 'L' radiated an overwhelming presence on the page.

“I!! I won't allow it!!!”

Grand Duchess Lariesa howled like a furious beast as she changed every “Ari” to “Lari.”

Everything would go as she wished. As it should.

* * *

As the Gallican army began its retreat to the north, Leo III granted Commander-in-Chief Duke Cesare around 2,000 men from the Capital Guard. They were the very crossbowmen Cesare had been desperate for.

Duke Cesare led them to intercept Gallico's Montpellier Heavy Knights from a distance, felling a considerable number of them.

It was a rather unimpressive victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Leo III propagandized it heavily, proclaiming, 'The Capital Guard of Great Etruscan has today slain several hundred of the Kingdom of Gallico's elite troops.'

The administrative body that recorded this quickly spread the news to the south.

- Victory for the Great Kingdom of Etruscan!

- The Royal Army has defeated the filthy Gallican dogs!

It was a measure to quell the unsettling rumors growing in the capital—that the girls had saved the country, that the King had done nothing.

And the fact that this victory, which was more of a win by default, was credited to Cesare was the handiwork of his mother, Duchess Rubina.

“Your position in the capital has been solidified. No one dares to speak against you now.”

The spoils of war, after all, are divided among those who hold official positions.

Public opinion may have praised Ariadne for this feat, but she was not the commander-in-chief, nor an administrator; she held no title or official position.

To grant a promotion or a reward, one must choose from those who already hold a rank.

The greatest beneficiary of this incident was Duke Cesare.

All talk of him needing to be driven from the capital or disciplined for the defeat vanished.

But Duchess Rubina still seemed dissatisfied.

“My son was the one who achieved this great deed.”

She held her teacup, displeased.

“Yet the praise goes to some girl with no background.”

Cesare, who had propped his booted feet up on the finest sofa, replied sullenly.

He always acted more delinquent than usual when his mother was around.

“Since ‘that girl’ was the one who achieved it, it’s only natural she receives the praise.”

“What do you mean, she achieved it!”

Duchess Rubina cried out, incensed.

“You are the commander-in-chief of the army, and you were the one who intercepted the Gallican forces and caused their casualties! No, at the very least, weren't you the one who ordered the gates opened and the traps set?”

Cesare retorted.

“She asked me to open the gates, so I opened them. She asked to borrow my men, so I lent them. She handled the planning and all the details. I simply did everything she told me to, from A to Z, and the Gallican army was rendered combat-ineffective.”

*Ah, I need a drink,* Cesare thought, glancing sideways at his mother.

“When you find someone exceptional, you should be thinking of how to bring them to your side. If you just try to crush them, how do you expect to handle anything important?”

Duchess Rubina's eyes narrowed at once.

“What? Bring her to your side?”

He couldn't have meant as a vassal.

“You, don't tell me…!”

Cesare didn't answer, merely looking out the window as he cleaned his ear.

“Cesare!”

A sharp, staccato scream then pierced his newly cleaned ear.

“Don't tell me you're thinking of marrying her?”

Cesare replied nonchalantly.

“Isn't Lady de Mare the best match in all of San Carlo right now?”

He listed her merits, counting them off on his fingers.

“First, she has a great reputation. Second, she's wealthy. Third, she's beautiful. She’s the perfect candidate for the Duchess of Pisano.”

“Cesare!”

Duchess Rubina trembled with rage.

“What part of that shriveled-up horse mackerel head is beautiful!”

“Your standards are incredibly high. If the most popular lady in the capital looks like a horse mackerel head to you, then there won't be any women left worthy of being your daughter-in-law.”

“Everyone in the capital must be blind! And besides, is her appearance the issue?”

Rubina gritted her teeth in betrayal and shouted at her son.

“Have you forgotten that during the arsenic incident, that girl stepped forward and drove your own mother into a corner?”

Duchess Rubina unleashed a torrent of criticism about her son's memory. Cesare listened with indifference, thinking.

*It's not that my memory is bad. I'm just not very filial.*

He, too, remembered Ariadne cornering his mother, Rubina.

It was true that if Ariadne had stayed quiet back then, the matter might have passed without incident, and it was also true that Rubina had been in grave danger.

But so what?

His mother's friends were not his friends, and his mother's enemies were not his enemies.

He was sick of this forced community of fate. He disliked his chirping mother even more. He decided to just escape the situation.

“I'll be taking my leave now.”

“Cesare!”

“I have an appointment.”

He had no such appointment. But he could always make one.

Leaving his furious mother behind, he smoothly picked up his coat and left the room.

Rubina, left alone, trembled with rage, but that was no concern of his.

* * *

Duke Cesare's steps naturally led him to the grand mansion of the de Mare family.

It was late autumn; though the air was growing chilly, a cool breeze was blowing. It was the season when the earth was at its most beautiful, painted in the colors of autumn leaves and foliage.

Duke Cesare, the very model of a playboy, had a set course he took the young ladies he was courting.

In this season, the valley behind the Orte Forest was a spectacular sight.

It was the prettiest spot, and besides, when seeing several women at once, taking them to different places could lead to mixing up stories later. It was best to standardize the dating route.

*…Isn't it about time I got tired of it?*

But this time, he wanted to go somewhere special.

He had already been to the Orte Forest with Lady de Mare during the hunting competition, and he didn't want to repeat the same predictable route he had taken with other women.

So, he inwardly decided on the shore of Lake Recarno as their dating spot.

It was a place he often went to as a child when he wanted to be alone.

Struggling to launch a small boat onto the lake and then staring blankly at the water's surface always made him feel better.

He had never once taken a woman there. It was his own private space.

*There are no people there. So I don't have to worry as much about the Black Death.*

He made that excuse to himself. But deep down, he knew. It was a special place, and he wanted to share it with a special person.

Carrying a huge bouquet of roses, he knocked on the main gate of the de Mare mansion.

The guard at the gate and the majordomo at the entrance ushered him into the drawing room without a second thought.

The Duke of Pisano was now practically the most powerful man in San Carlo.

Even if he had shown up unannounced to see Cardinal de Mare instead of Ariadne, no one would have dared refuse him.

However, after he was seated in the drawing room, Ariadne's red-haired maid appeared and threw a wrench in his plans.

“I will inform the young lady that the Duke of Pisano has come to call.”

Noticing Cesare dressed in his riding attire, Ariadne's maid carefully added.

“However…. My lady is not feeling well, so I'm afraid an outing will be difficult.”

No matter how cautious her tone, a refusal was a refusal. The usual Cesare would have flared up at this.

*What? She can't go out? And why are you, not me, not even her, making that decision?*

But today, Cesare's reaction was different from usual. It was so natural that he himself didn't notice anything odd.

*What? The lady is sick? What's wrong with her?*