Chapter 222

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: Their Respective Calculations
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If one had to compare Leo III to an animal, he would be a rabbit.

Not just any rabbit, but a cunning one. He always dug three burrows, and today was no exception.

If the first method failed, he could simply dig a second tunnel.

“Summon Cardinal de Mare.”

Leo III ground his teeth, his expression grim.

He had purchased the twenty thousand cantaros of grain, just as that audacious girl had wanted.

With that, he had at least prevented the grain from being exported to the Republic of Porto.

This meant that the remaining grain he hadn't purchased was still within the Kingdom of Etruscan.

He had bought himself time. He just needed to apply pressure gradually to get his hands on it.

‘Somehow… I must get that grain…’

Leo III was beginning to feel the administrative power of his kingdom crumble under the weight of the plague sweeping the nation. Tax collection was the biggest problem.

When the King’s tax collectors visited the provinces, they often encountered deserted cities, completely devastated by the plague.

It would have been better if the cities had truly fallen.

That would be an act of God. But the provincial lords were using the plague as an excuse not to send taxes to the central government.

- ‘The taxes couldn't be collected…’

- ‘Look at the state of the city. We don’t know when we’ll have to abandon it and flee ourselves.’

- ‘There’s no way to send the collected taxes. There’s no one we can trust; it would be stolen on the way.’

- ‘We already sent it. You haven't received it? Oh dear, it seems the messenger caught the plague!’

Some even went so far as to close their gates, refusing entry to the tax collectors altogether.

They knew. They knew that Leo III currently lacked the power to teach the provincial governments a lesson.

*Gnash.*

The King ground his teeth. He hated to admit it, but Ariadne de Mare was right.

If he sent his army to seize the grain from the ‘Savior of Etruscan,’ the ‘Saint of the Rambouillet Almshouse,’ and the ‘Mother of the Poor,’ the paupers of the capital would rise up at the slightest pretext.

Whether Ariadne de Mare had thrown that fact at him knowingly or not, he couldn't be sure. But what the King also had to consider was the possibility that an uprising of the capital's poor could gain the support of the provincial magnates and spiral out of control.

‘Grain to maintain the Royal Guard, or at the very least, gold coins…!’

He had first hoped for her voluntary donation, but that ship had sailed.

However, even if he couldn't use force, there were countless other means a king could employ.

‘No matter how clever she is, she’s still just a daughter bound to her family.’

Leo III wasn't the only one who had to mind his reputation. Ariadne de Mare did as well.

‘If I pressure her father, she’ll have no way to resist.’

The influence a king could exert on a young girl was surprisingly limited. His power was confined to the public sphere.

She held no title, paid no taxes on produce from a fief, and was not engaged in commerce. There was no room for the King to apply pressure on such a young lady.

And a king without a queen could not involve himself directly in the social circles of young women.

But her father was a different story.

As a clergyman belonging to the Holy See, he wasn't technically a subject of Leo III, but they had enough dealings with each other that influence could be exerted one way or another.

Once that was done, the rest would be smooth sailing.

The head of a family holds powerful authority over its members. If a direct hit wasn't possible, he could strike from the side.

But what Leo III failed to consider was that the father was an even greater merchant than the daughter.

* * *

“My, did such a thing happen?”

In a private audience with Leo III, Cardinal de Mare put on a genuinely surprised expression and chimed in supportively.

“Indeed. So, if you would speak to your daughter, Cardinal…”

Despite the King’s request, Cardinal de Mare nipped it in the bud.

“That is my daughter’s private property, Your Majesty. It is not the family’s wealth.”

It wasn't that various thoughts hadn't crossed his mind.

*With the full support of the King of Etruscan, could I become Pope at the next Conclave?*

*Would this be enough for Leo III to give me his full support? When will the next Conclave even be held?*

But the swift calculation came back negative.

Cardinal de Mare concluded that there would be little to gain from offering Ariadne’s fortune to Leo III.

Pope Ludovico was only a few years older than the Cardinal and was in robust health. The next Conclave would be in ten years at the earliest.

Was Leo III the sort of man to remember a favor for ten years? The Cardinal’s final conclusion was ‘no.’

“I have no authority over it.”

An incredulous Leo III chided the Cardinal.

“Cardinal, how can you so brazenly admit that you have no authority in your own house?”

To Leo III, this was a matter of face and pride.

“She’s not the wife of a nobleman, so where would a mere daughter get personal funds? It’s not as if she inherited her deceased mother’s dowry, is it? Everything a daughter of the house has is given by the head of the family! To be unable to manage that is a shameful thing!”

But Cardinal de Mare was a pragmatist of pragmatists, one who knew that face and pride wouldn't put food on the table.

“Your Majesty. We are commoners, not nobles.”

He replied with a serene smile.

“Among commoners, it is natural for the women of the house to have a louder voice and greater authority. Whether they earn by farming or by selling fish, isn't the one who brings in the money the head of the household?”

“Wh-what did you say?”

Leo III felt a wave of dizziness and clutched the back of his neck.

He had thought the daughter’s defiant attitude was abnormal, but it seemed going wild over money was a family tradition.

However, Cardinal de Mare had no intention of backing down today, regardless of what Leo III thought.

He had been nursing a good deal of dissatisfaction with the King for some time.

His flat refusal of Leo III’s request was influenced not only by the fact that there was nothing to be gained from the King at the moment, but also by a lack of trust in him.

If a merchant buys on credit, he must pay it back. Especially on the first transaction, it should be paid back as soon as possible, with interest.

“Do you perhaps remember our promise?”

He reminded Leo III of the promise of a title.

“I had thought I would be the father of a nobleman by the time the weather turned chilly, at the latest.”

“Ahem, Cardinal! Why are you in such a hurry? There are circumstances to consider, opposition to think about…”

Cardinal de Mare had the strongest urge to retort that a king who couldn't even manage that and had to worry about the opinions of his retainers should be ashamed of himself, but he barely held onto his reason and refrained.

He wasn't about to emigrate; he had to keep living here, so he had to be moderate.

“Even granting you that, shouldn't you have at least given me some indication by now as to what title you intend to bestow and when?”

Leo III had nothing to say but a dry cough.

There was a reason he hadn't contacted Cardinal de Mare in advance.

The King wanted to grant him a viscounty and be done with it.

The Cardinal, of course, would want at least a countship.

That was the starting point for a proper, independent title. But Leo III was reluctant to add another count to the capital.

A new, powerful family backed by the church, and not entirely on his side? And now, they were new money, monopolizing the nation’s grain.

“My dear Cardinal. That will be considered based on your future devotion…”

“Future devotion, you say.”

Cardinal de Mare pursed his lips. It was the same habit as his second daughter.

“I flatter myself that, until now, I have done my utmost to accommodate San Carlo in the dealings between Trevero and San Carlo.”

The various ceremonial honors the Kingdom of Etruscan had received from the Holy See were certainly more generous than the amount of donations the royal family sent.

“As a representative of the Holy See, as the hands and feet of His Holiness the Pope, I must say it has not been an easy task. And of all the risks I have taken for Your Majesty, the greatest was surely…”

Cardinal de Mare stared intently at Leo III. Though no specifics were mentioned, they both knew what the other was thinking.

The Cardinal didn't stoop to cheap threats like, ‘If it’s revealed that I forged Holy See records for Duke Cesare…’

They were, after all, accomplices in the same boat.

If Cardinal de Mare exposed what the King had done, he himself, having tampered with the official records of the Holy See, would be dragged into the scandal.

It was impossible to say who would be hurt more. It would likely be about even.

“Future devotion, I will give you plenty.”

Though his words were what Leo III wanted to hear, Cardinal de Mare’s expression said otherwise. Leo III knew this.

“However, I will need an interim settlement.”

He was saying, grant the title first, and then we can discuss the grain.

“Once the weather grows colder, I will have a talk with my daughter. But won't the relief supplies for the poor increase during the winter?”

It was a threat: the longer you wait, the less there will be.

Leo III clicked his tongue, thinking how the father and daughter were exactly alike.

“I have another engagement. If Your Majesty permits, I will take my leave now.”

Cardinal de Mare gazed at Leo III with his green eyes.

“If you have any need to contact me, please summon me at any time. I will come with pleasure.”

Daring to ask to leave before the King himself—yes, the father and daughter were certainly identical. As if cast from the same mold.

“Ah, and one more thing.”

In no mood to reply, Leo III glared sullenly at the Cardinal.

“Regarding the matter of the Rambouillet Almshouse you mentioned as soon as I arrived today.”

Leo III had brought up the Rambouillet Almshouse as a pretext and an icebreaker for their private meeting today.

It had been an institution managed by the late queen, but since Queen Marguerite’s passing, there had been no suitable royal to oversee it. He had asked if the Etruscan Diocese of the Holy See, which was at the forefront of aiding the poor, could take over its management.

“On second thought, we currently have many of our own relief projects, and it seems it would be difficult for us to manage the Rambouillet Almshouse as well.”

At the beginning of their audience, unsure of how things would unfold, Cardinal de Mare had not given a firm refusal, merely stating that he would ‘consider it.’

But reflecting on their conversation, the King seemed more and more outrageous.

The Rambouillet Almshouse, too—if his daughter withdrew her support, it would have to be run entirely on the royal budget. Hadn't the King been trying to palm it off on the Holy See because he didn't want to spend the money?

“Given the current situation, our relief efforts for the poor are piling up… I trust you will understand.”

The Cardinal stood, the white fabric of his vestments rustling. He bowed in accordance with etiquette, but the sight of it was incredibly grating.

“Hmph!”

As soon as Cardinal de Mare left, Leo III let out a sigh, releasing all his pent-up displeasure.

Who was it that said a king could do whatever he wanted! Those who envied the throne must be people who have never once been king!

* * *

On his way home, Cardinal de Mare decided that the time had come to have things out with his second daughter.

He knew from the rumors circulating in high society that his younger daughter was managing a considerable fortune.

But he didn't take society rumors at face value.

‘In high society, a single gust of wind is exaggerated into the worst cold snap in history.’

Moreover, storming in to interrogate his daughter about her seed money and how she earned it, like a tax collector, the moment he heard she’d made money, was not in his nature.

It wasn't as if the family was short on funds. She must have known what she was doing.

But he had never imagined it would be enough to attract the King’s greedy eyes. That changed everything.

‘She couldn't have raised her initial capital without touching the family's assets.’

As someone who had unwittingly provided the startup funds, and as her father, shouldn't a portion of it be incorporated into the family's wealth?

He had protected her from the detestable King.

But was Ariadne’s money truly independent of the family?

Cardinal de Mare was far more progressive than most fathers of his era, but his thinking didn't go that far.

‘If I play my cards right, I might be able to establish a proper countship within my lifetime…’

Since he had just defied the King today, it was best to abandon any hope of the best-case scenario where the King would bestow upon him a countship with an accompanying fief. The man wasn't going to give it anyway.

But even if he only got a title without a fief… no, even if the King went back on his word entirely…

‘If I have a great deal of money, I can just buy one, can’t I?’

He could buy a fief, or he could arrange for Ippolito to marry the sole, brotherless daughter of a fallen noble house. With a generous dowry, anything was possible.

His lifelong dream was on the verge of being realized.

A respectable comital house with a fine fief. The blue dolphin crest adorning the grand mansion at the center of the estate. The name de Mare, to prosper for generations. A thrill shot through Cardinal de Mare, and his palms grew sweaty at the electrifying thought.

But he did not know that his daughter, too, was preparing for a showdown with her father.