Chapter 235

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 235
Chapter Title: The Blood-Stained Ceremony
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Ariadne glanced back and forth between Leo III, dressed in the white ceremonial robes of a groom, and Cesare, his own splendid attire covered in blood, a real sword at his hip.

“Cesare…?”

He answered with a smile.

“Welcome to our wedding.”

Leo III had invited only a handful of guests. He had even deliberately given them the wrong time.

He had instructed them to arrive in time for the reception after the ceremony, not the wedding itself.

This was to preempt any potential objections from the bride's father or others.

Thus, aside from the bride, the only ones in the Hall of the Sun were groom candidate number one, his father—groom candidate number two—and a handful of servants.

“Is there no priest here?”

At Cesare’s question, Leo III waved his hand dismissively.

“He is not needed.”

He said, shaking the papal decree clutched in his hand.

“Step forward.”

Ariadne looked back and forth between Leo III and Duke Cesare of Pisano, her eyes filled with confusion.

A marriage vow without a clergyman as a witness is invalid. This holds true even if the king himself presides over it.

However, Ariadne had no intention of stepping in to grant any legal validity to this situation, and the tense atmosphere in the Hall of the Sun was hardly conducive to bringing up such matters.

Cesare took Ariadne’s arm and pulled her forward.

Standing close to Cesare, Ariadne whispered to him.

“What on earth is happening right now?”

Cesare replied with a faint smile.

“An act of madness for the ages.”

“Care to explain?”

This was the same son who had mercilessly ignored his mother Rubina's similar demands, but his attitude was different in front of a woman. He readily began to speak.

“Do you see my father’s attire up there, the man officiating?”

“It’s pure white. Stained with blood.”

“Exactly. He was supposed to be today’s groom.”

“What?”

Ariadne’s green eyes widened in shock.

“My God…”

Now all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

The appointment as director of the Rambouillet Almshouse, the bestowment of a higher-than-expected title of countess, the fact that the title was given to Ariadne and not Ippolito—it all made perfect sense now.

“This time, I saved you, my lady.”

Ariadne didn’t ask for the details of how he had saved her.

The blood splattered on Leo III’s face and soaking the front of Cesare’s tunic was evidence enough of the method.

“I’ve repaid my debt for when you saved me on the Pisano border.”

Cesare found it too awkward to say, ‘I went blind with rage at the thought of you becoming my father’s wife,’ so he changed the subject.

And as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it, wishing he had just confessed with sweet words instead.

No matter how one heard it, his words sounded stiff and graceless.

Sweet-talking women was Duke Cesare’s specialty.

Why was something so easy failing him now?

As they whispered to each other, Leo III called out to them.

“Duke of Pisano, Countess de Mare. Come forward.”

The King’s eyes were blazing with fury, and his hands trembled.

He looked at Cesare and Ariadne as they stepped forward and abruptly unfurled the decree.

“I, Leo III of the Kingdom of Etruscan.”

He put particular emphasis on his own title as he read.

“Of Duke Cesare of Pisano and Countess Ariadne de Mare…”

After a brief pause, Leo III continued.

“I hereby decree their ‘engagement’.”

Then, he immediately walked over to the nearest brazier burning in a corner of the Hall of the Sun and tossed the decree into the flames.

The parchment ignited with a roar. Cesare threw his head back and laughed loudly.

“Hahahahahaha!”

Despite Cesare’s laughter, the King strode out of the Hall of the Sun without a backward glance.

The doors slammed shut with a resounding crash.

The sound was deafening.

“How petty!”

Cesare said after a long bout of laughter.

By burning the decree, any evidence that it had mandated a ‘marriage’ and not an ‘engagement’ was gone forever.

All that remained was the engagement, established by the King’s verbal declaration.

He offered his arm to escort Ariadne.

“Everyone, stand aside. The King’s wedding is off, and the Duke’s engagement ceremony is over.”

He glared menacingly around the room.

“When the guests arrive, tell them the engagement ceremony of the Duke of Pisano and the Countess de Mare was a grand and beautiful affair.”

He kissed Ariadne on the cheek, as if for all to see.

It was a ceremony of firm resolve, a declaration that neither the King nor anyone else could take her from him now.

Cesare’s face was also splattered with blood. Ariadne shuddered at the cold touch of it against her cheek.

“Let’s go.”

He led Ariadne out of the Hall of the Sun.

Cesare’s soldiers followed behind them, their steps heavy yet perfectly synchronized.

* * *

Cesare had ridden a horse, having stormed the palace with his soldiers, while Ariadne had been brought in what amounted to confinement within the royal golden carriage.

There was no carriage for them to take back.

In the end, Cesare placed Ariadne in front of him on his black steed.

“The devout and chaste Lady de Mare. No, Countess.”

He wrapped an arm around Ariadne’s waist. She tried to push his hand away but quickly lost her balance.

His hand was meant to help her maintain her balance, layered as she was in whalebone undergarments, and it was impossible for her to balance on her own at the front of the saddle while weighed down by her ceremonial gown and farthingale.

“Still trying to push me away? We’re engaged now. At least tolerate sharing my horse.”

He was referring to how she had loathed the idea of riding on the same horse with him during the hunt.

Ariadne understood his meaning but deliberately changed the subject.

“My attendant is still at the palace. We have to take her with us.”

Cesare gestured impatiently, summoning a subordinate.

“Find out who it is and bring them with us.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

After giving the order, he lightly spurred his horse, setting it in motion.

His interest was not on some servant. He started teasing Ariadne again.

“Aren’t you disappointed? You could have been a duchess, but you’ve ended up as a duke’s fiancée.”

She answered with a sneer.

“If we’re keeping score, I missed out on becoming queen today. Do you really think I’d be disappointed over the title of duchess?”

“Hahahahahahaha!”

Cesare laughed heartily again, still on horseback.

“You have a point. You have a point.”

The early winter wind was quite chilly. Ariadne was wearing only her wedding gown.

She shivered as a cold gust swept over her, and Cesare opened his cloak, pulling her closer into his embrace.

“…Isn’t this usually when you give me your cloak?”

“Why would I, when there’s a way for us both to stay warm and for me to hold you?”

Cesare bit back the urge to say, ‘Don’t put me in the same class as a prig like Alfonso. That bastard is an idiot.’

He didn’t want to be the one to bring up Alfonso. It was a manifestation of a slight inferiority complex. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Being a duke’s fiancée might be better than being a duchess.

If you were a duchess, you’d have no choice but to die with the duke when his head rolls, but a fiancée can just return to her family.”

He paused for a moment before adding.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?”

Ariadne asked, dumbfounded.

“You did all this without a plan?”

Cesare was finally honest.

“Yes. I was seeing red.”

A brief silence fell between them.

Faced with this honest confession, Ariadne didn’t know what to say.

She considered the words on the tip of her tongue for a moment but ultimately held them back.

She too, like Cesare had earlier, changed the subject.

“Tell me everything that happened, from beginning to end. Don’t skip over the details.”

Cesare had a habit of not speaking clearly. It was a habit of her son’s that made Rubina shudder.

He was an unparalleled orator when discussing something he wanted to, but when he spoke of things he wasn’t interested in or wasn’t focused on, he would omit subjects and skip over key events, leaving the listener frustrated.

But now, the bride in white was demanding an explanation from him. It was time to muster every talent he had, and then some.

Cesare did his best, beginning to recount the events of that morning, carefully and in order.

“You really gathered the soldiers stationed on the outskirts and stormed the palace?”

“I didn’t mobilize that many. Only 500.”

“Do you have two heads?”

“The general consensus is that I’m a man mad for women. They say that Count—no, Duke Cesare has one head on his neck and another between his legs.”

Ariadne couldn’t help but laugh.

“If His Majesty the King sentences you to death, you can ask him to cut off the one between your legs instead.”

“I’d rather give him my neck.”

Cesare replied with a chuckle, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

“Do you think he’ll really come to cut it off?”

Ariadne asked him.

“You prefer to be safe, don’t you?”

“Is anything ever just good? Isn’t there a price for safety?”

She gave a bitter smile.

“You might have to return what you gained today.”

The only thing Cesare had gained today was Ariadne, who was in his arms.

Did this mean that if he groveled now, he would have to annul their engagement and offer Ariadne up again as a candidate for the King’s consort?

Cesare refused firmly.

“If I’m going to commit an act of madness, I might as well have something to show for it. What’s the point of returning everything, only to end up hated for nothing? What kind of fool does that?”

Cesare said.

“Let’s take the risky path.”

A smile played on his lips.

“Ah, to hell with it. Let’s just go all out.”

He held Ariadne in his left arm and stretched his right arm out wide.

“You only live once!”

Ariadne had no desire to spoil Cesare’s mood, but she had to convey the things he needed to be wary of.

“If you had wanted to play it safe, I would have told you to immediately resign from your position as commander-in-chief, disband all your troops, and return to the Pisano territory.”

“And now?”

“You have to hold onto everything and stand your ground in the capital.”

But holding out would not be easy.

“His Majesty the King will soon strip you of your title as commander-in-chief.”

“Damn. Mother will weep.”

“Then, aside from your private soldiers from the Pisano territory, the troops from other territories will no longer be under your command.”

“Send them back to their respective territories while the Black Death is raging?”

“He will likely appoint someone else and place them under that person’s command.”

The key was who that appointment would be.

“So, for now, do your best to consolidate the leaderless soldiers and the understaffed units and place them under the command of your Pisano troops.”

Ariadne’s strategic thinking continued.

“You must also make active use of your mother. If she still has the King’s favor, it would be best for her to go before him and plead your case. If the atmosphere isn’t right for that, then have her lay the groundwork through her social connections.”

“To say what?”

“That His Majesty the King and Duchess Rubina had a quarrel, and the Duke of Pisano stormed in to confront his father, causing a small commotion at the palace.”

She looked up at Cesare.

“Keep this in mind. Today’s events were not about a father and son fighting over a woman, but about a devoted son’s love for his mother. You need a justification.”

Ariadne added.

“And that His Majesty, despite his son’s defiance, was so moved by his filial piety that he graciously decreed the engagement. It’s important that His Majesty receives praise for this. People are reluctant to reverse an action that others have praised them for.”

Cesare gazed down at her, held in his arms.

“Do you hate the idea of being entangled with me that much?”

“That’s part of it.”

Ariadne replied lightly. But Cesare took it heavily.

“…My lady. I know you dislike me.”

“…”

Ariadne fell silent at the sudden change of topic.

She was not at all prepared to discuss feelings with Cesare.

Cesare was thinking of the last time he had met Ariadne, when she had furiously pushed him away.

“It’s because of my past, isn’t it?”

The notorious Count de Como. Baroness Santarosa, Lady Gentilini, the daughter of Viscount Benedetto, Lady Ragusa, and even Ottavio’s sister, Countess Clemente de Bartolini.

A tangled mess of Cesare’s lovers from his past and present lives flashed through Ariadne’s mind.

“Trust me. I only played around when I was a free man. I’m not the kind of scoundrel who fools around when he has a fiancée.”

The list of women was narrowed down once more.

It was a list of the women Count Cesare de Como had fooled around with while he was engaged.

Baroness Santarosa. Lady Gentilini. Countess Bartolini. And the Crown Prince’s widow, Isabella de Mare.

“I risked my life to save you.”

The past and present intersected. Cesare tightened his arm around Ariadne.

“I’m serious. I never expected to become your fiancé, but I think it’s for the best.”

He whispered softly.

“I’ll do well by you. So you can trust me.”

His pleasant tenor voice rang out like a song.

“Just watch.”

Cradled in Cesare’s arms, Ariadne stared blankly ahead.

The man who had once tossed the binding power of an engagement into the trash was now declaring he would hold it sacred.

Could the rake of a past life truly be reborn as a devoted lover in this one?