Chapter 232

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: The Weakling in Love
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Ariadne firmly shut the secret vault of the Rambouillet Almshouse once more.

Her next step was to ensure the silence of Giuseppe, who knew everything, and Secretary Albani, who only knew of the vault's existence.

She counted the money alone.

For three days and nights, she was inside, clinking and clanking as she counted the gold coins, feeling an ambivalent mix of amusement and weariness.

*My hands reek of metal.*

After assessing the scale of the Rambouillet Almshouse's slush fund without anyone's help, she concluded that sending Alfonso an initial sum of about ten thousand ducats for his war chest would be a good start.

That amount would be enough to put out all the immediate fires. It could equip a small unit of two to three hundred men with the finest gear. If spent frugally, it could support a few more men, or if the numbers were reduced, it could allow the prince himself to live in luxury.

Either way, Alfonso could use it as he wished. It was, after all, money his mother had left for him.

She could have sent more, but the problem was the transfer route.

Without a trustworthy courier, she first needed to secure a reliable path for the money.

*I can't send it on a regular ship from the Republic of Porto.*

Ariadne believed the reason she hadn't received a reply from Alfonso was more likely due to a delivery mishap.

While she couldn't stop her vulnerable heart from whispering warnings of her lover's change of heart, logically, it was strange to expect letters to travel safely back and forth across the sea to Yesak.

*Such a large sum of money is perfect for someone to embezzle along the way.*

Representative Caruso operated a smuggling ship that sailed to the Moorish Empire.

If she could have the ship's route altered to stop by Yesak, she could secure safe passage.

However, Representative Caruso did not personally travel on that smuggling vessel, and even if the ship was safe, she would still need someone to transport the money from the port inland.

Representative Caruso himself wouldn't betray her for this amount of money, but whether one of his subordinates at the Boccanegra Company would value their own credit or social standing in the Kingdom of Etruscan as highly was another matter entirely.

If someone were to abscond with the ten thousand ducats and disappear into the Moorish Empire via some corner of Yesak, there would be no way to find them.

Ariadne didn't trust in loyalty. A person needed to be of a certain stature not to be swayed by that kind of money.

What she needed was someone truly trustworthy, someone with deep roots in the Kingdom of Etruscan who had much to lose.

One person came to her mind.

*It's a difficult request, but...*

He had always been generous. Perhaps he would grant it.

* * *

"Across the sea?"

Raphael asked, his red eyes wide. Ariadne nodded calmly.

"Yes."

Ariadne had summoned him for the first time in a while, and Raphael, who had rushed to the de Mare estate, hoped he had misheard her shocking request.

But the green-eyed girl with her ebony hair braided into one, confirmed with absolute certainty that he had heard correctly.

"I want to send war funds to Alfonso. I have no one else to ask to cross the sea for me."

Ariadne looked up at Raphael with eyes full of trust.

"Raphael, you are Alfonso's close friend, are you not?"

Raphael had never thought he would find such innocence in this woman, but surprisingly, he did.

She showed not a single shred of doubt.

"...I am."

"By a strange turn of events, I discovered some gold coins that the late queen left for Alfonso. I don't think I should use it as I please. And as it happens, Alfonso is in desperate need of this money."

Every word she said was true, leaving him with nothing to say. Raphael licked his dry lips.

If he had known this would happen, he should have confessed sooner.

*Between friendship and you, I think I have already chosen you.*

But Ariadne pressed on, giving Raphael no time to speak.

"I know it is an unreasonable request to ask the sole heir of the Valdesal family to leave the country. But Alfonso has no one to trust now but us."

Raphael rubbed his dry face. The prospect of the Valdesal heir crossing the border didn't bother him in the slightest.

He had been on the verge of giving up everything—heirship and all—to become a clergyman anyway. A few months abroad was nothing.

But if he were to go meet the prince with war funds...

*...Do not lead me into such temptation.*

Alfonso would, in all likelihood, use that money to secure a safe escort fleet and return to his home country.

*When Alfonso returns, Ariadne will...*

...joyfully throw herself into his arms.

In Raphael's imagination, a picture formed of the black-haired girl flying into the arms of a sturdy, blond knight, tanned dark brown under the Middle Eastern sun.

The hair that was now neatly braided before his eyes would fly defenselessly through the air when she embraced Alfonso...

"...Raphael?"

The girl with the black hair called to him, her eyes filled with suspicion. He snapped back to reality.

"Ah."

"Are you all right?"

"Of course."

Raphael answered quickly. He smoothly transitioned the conversation back to business to allay her suspicions.

"How large is the war chest?"

Fortunately, Ariadne, who harbored no such suspicions, was easily led by his question.

"I'm thinking of ten thousand ducats."

"Ah..."

Raphael let out a low groan at the enormous sum.

"Now you see why I said I had no one to ask but you, Raphael?"

Indeed, it was an amount that would tempt anyone entrusted with it to simply run away.

Moreover, the sheer volume was no joke. The gold alone would weigh at least a hundred *libra*—about 33.4 kilograms.

"They say that if you depart from Taranto, you can reach the port of Valianti in the Latgalin region in five weeks."

Seeing that Raphael seemed willing to accept, Ariadne excitedly shared the detailed plan.

"I've heard it might be a bit faster since it's the season for southeasterly winds. Once you disembark at Valianti, you just need to head inland to find the Third Crusade."

Raphael, feeling sullen, wrinkled his nose as he replied.

"Lady Ariadne, you speak as if this were a simple matter of fetching a teacup from a tea party at the Marquis of Montecarlo's estate."

It was a sudden, distancing form of address from someone who, at some point, had started calling her 'Ariadne' without permission.

Sensing this keenly, Ariadne blushed and apologized.

"I'm sorry, Raphael—no, Signor Valdesal. I didn't mean to..."

But paradoxically, though he had been the one to create the distance, he couldn't bear it when she put up a wall.

He wanted to crush his lips against hers.

Once lips met lips, and mucous membranes touched, she would at least be unable to speak any further.

He imagined what would happen if he just went through with it.

...Would those innocent eyes be shocked by the two faces of her good 'friend'? Would she refuse to ever associate with me again?

"Signor Valdesal?"

In the end, he couldn't do it.

"Raphael."

He corrected her form of address.

"Not Signor Valdesal. Raphael."

"Ah..."

"I was just being sullen. Don't apologize to me."

At Raphael's whim, Ariadne stared at him with wide eyes, her expression showing she didn't know how to react.

"Hah..."

Raphael swept his hair back. His fine, resilient white hair reflected the sunlight, shimmering like silver as it brushed against his cheek.

His red eyes, now a shade darker, gazed at her with a deepened look.

"...I was wrong."

Before her, he was the weak one. And before Alfonso, he was a sinner.

Raphael murmured an apology, uncertain of whom it was for.

"I just need to deliver the war funds, right?"

He hoped it wasn't a request to personally escort the prince back.

The girl with the brilliant black hair before him beamed with joy as she replied.

"Yes!"

She gave a wide smile, revealing her white, rabbit-like teeth.

"It will be a great help to Alfonso. I still haven't heard any news of His Majesty the King sending war funds. He must be suffering so much in a faraway land!"

Right. She was right.

His close friend—Alfonso was unaware of Raphael's inner betrayal, so as long as Raphael kept his distance, they could remain friends—desperately needed this money right now.

If he refused this task, Alfonso would continue to struggle harshly in that distant land.

Raphael took another breath, weighed down by guilt toward Alfonso.

My good friend Alfonso, who has never once forsaken me.

"Once you establish the route, it might be more useful to send Alfonso necessary supplies from here rather than more gold. Things like horses, tack, armor, and military gear would be better sent from his home country."

She explained eagerly, batting her eyelashes.

"From the second delivery onward, I'll arrange for a designated person from the Boccanegra Company to handle it. I'm not shameless enough to ask you multiple times, Raphael."

"Is that so."

At Ariadne's words, Raphael's heart eased a little.

It wasn't because she said she wasn't shameless enough to ask him multiple times, but because she wasn't considering Alfonso's return.

"You don't expect me to go and bring Alfonso back with me?"

Raphael finally couldn't hold back the question. Ariadne's expression turned somber for a moment before she answered.

"...I believe the timing of his return is entirely up to Alfonso."

It was a statement that would have made Cesare clap like a seal, declaring her the perfect wife.

"The domestic situation is complicated right now, so it would be meaningful for Alfonso to return and secure his position... But since he has already gone to the holy war, returning with distinguished service could be more advantageous for strengthening his standing at home."

Alfonso had always lived confined within the castle walls, achieving the goals his parents set for him, following the path they laid out.

His departure for the Kingdom of Gallico was the first step in his life toward achieving a goal he had set for himself with his own hands.

Ariadne hoped that if Alfonso hadn't yet achieved his goals, he wouldn't clip his own wings and come back.

Even if that path led back to her arms.

Because the vow she had made to Alfonso was not one of eternal love, but a knight's oath.

"I want to let him do whatever he wants. It's fine if he doesn't return early just for my sake."

Having brought it up only to witness her unwavering and selfless affection, Raphael felt his mouth go dry.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Ariadne added with a bright smile.

"Oh, and along with the war funds, please make sure to deliver my letter! And bring back a reply!"

"You haven't received any until now?"

To Raphael's question, Ariadne feigned composure as she replied.

"The regular ships from the Republic of Porto aren't very reliable. It seems the letters I've sent so far have been lost along the way."

"Indeed... I've heard that even the royal palace complains about the difficulty in contacting Alfonso."

Ariadne's face brightened even more.

Yes, if even the palace hadn't received any letters, then the lack of contact must have been a delivery issue.

Thanks to Raphael, she would finally be able to receive news from Alfonso.

"Since we'll be using a ship from the Boccanegra Company, there's no need to explain the movement of the funds to anyone. However, if you need to explain the source of the money to the Crusade—anyone other than Alfonso—I'll prepare documents stating that it's war funding from the Etruscan Diocesan Union of the Holy See."

Raphael let out a hollow laugh at the meticulousness of Ariadne de Mare, who had already prepared everything to begin the moment he agreed.

"The Boccanegra Company's ship departs from Taranto in two weeks."

Considering the travel time, that meant Raphael had only about three days to prepare for the journey and inform his family.

The same woman who told Alfonso to do whatever he wanted was now ordering him to depart for Yesak within three days.

But he was the weakling in love, the subordinate in a power dynamic who could not refuse her words.

He was also a sinner who could not let her discover his crime.

In the end, Raphael replied with a bitter smile.

"Whatever you wish."