Chapter 36

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Special Treatment
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Despite Prince Alfonso's command, Cesare did not immediately release Ariadne's wrist.
Yet, Alfonso remained neither flustered nor agitated. He walked right up to Cesare and spoke in a calm voice, without raising it in the slightest.

“It seems you did not hear me. Let go of her hand, Count de Como.”

Alfonso, four years Cesare's junior, was still clearly a boy.
The downy hair on his cheeks, his smooth skin, and his youthful voice betrayed his age.
But the dignity in his bearing made his youth seem irrelevant.
Cesare, tall for his slender frame, stood at four piedi and three dita (about 183 centimeters).
However, Prince Alfonso, still in his growing years and about half a handspan shorter, possessed broad, straight shoulders and a solid build, holding his own without being overshadowed by the much taller Cesare.
In the midst of their standoff, the prince spoke again, his tone mild.

“And it appears the Count has forgotten to show proper respect to a member of the royal family.”

This was a remark that could not be ignored.
A commoner who failed to pay respects to royalty could be punished for lèse-majesté.
Cesare had not been legitimized by Leo III.
He was not officially a member of the royal family.
Cesare clenched his jaw and, while still holding Ariadne's wrist, gave Alfonso the nod of respect due to royalty.
Alfonso glanced at the hand gripping Ariadne's wrist, then looked Cesare straight in the eye and spoke once more.
The prince's voice was perfectly calm, as smooth and even as a drop of water gliding across marble.

“Count de Como. Not that greeting. This is our first meeting of the day.”

In the Kingdom of Etruscan, the formal custom when greeting royalty for the first time was for both men and women to kneel on one knee and bow their heads.
On a second meeting the same day, or if the royal granted an exception due to old age, infirmity, or a very close relationship, the greeting could be substituted with a nod for men, or a curtsy for women.
Prince Alfonso was pointing this out.
Alfonso was usually unassuming and would waive such formal greetings, but this time, he made no exception.
Grinding his teeth, Cesare released Ariadne's wrist, took a step back, and knelt on one knee before Alfonso, bowing his head deeply.
Every movement was slow and filled with resentment.
He was grinding his teeth so hard that the muscles in his jaw bulged as if they might burst.
Ariadne thought that Cesare must be so furious he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

‘The one thing Cesare hates most in the world is kneeling.’

And of all the kneeling he had to do, what he despised most was kneeling to his half-brother, Alfonso.
She had once mused that perhaps thirty percent of Cesare's reason for plotting to usurp the throne was so that, as king, he would never have to kneel to anyone but the Pope.
Alfonso didn't even acknowledge Cesare's greeting right away.
He left Cesare kneeling on the floor and turned to greet Ariadne, who was rubbing her wrist after being freed.

“Good afternoon, Lady de Mare.”

“Your Royal Highness, Prince Alfonso, the little sun of the kingdom.”

Just as she was about to kneel in greeting, Prince Alfonso took her arm to stop her.

“Lady de Mare, we already met this morning.”

This meant that only Cesare had to kneel; Ariadne did not.
Ariadne struggled to suppress a small laugh.
Fortunately, she managed to stifle the sound, so only Prince Alfonso saw her smiling face; Cesare, with his head bowed, heard nothing.
Prince Alfonso smiled brightly and pulled Ariadne toward him.

“Lady de Mare, come this way. The Marquis and Marchioness Cibo are waiting.”

Ariadne nodded and moved behind Prince Alfonso.
Cesare remained on his knee.
Only after Ariadne was a safe distance away from Cesare did Alfonso acknowledge his greeting, as if he had forgotten.

“Ah, Count de Como. It was a pleasure. You may go now.”

As Cesare's face grew taut with rage, Ariadne added a parting shot from behind Prince Alfonso.

“Oh, and by the way, you'll be paying for the repairs to the Cibo residence's floor!”

Cesare barely restrained himself from kicking a stone, even in the prince's presence.
That little pipsqueak!
* * *
Ariadne and Alfonso chatted as they walked toward the main building of the Cibo residence.

“That was amazing, Ariadne. Did you know from the start that it was a forgery?”

I did know... but it was difficult to explain how.
I couldn't very well say I'd seen it in the future of my past life, could I?

“I only suspected it. The piece was just too clean. I'm so glad it all worked out in the end.”

“If you had given me a hint beforehand, I wouldn't have bought it.”

“I didn't know you were going to buy it!”

Prince Alfonso laughed awkwardly.
He felt like he became a fool whenever he was in front of this girl.

“That's true.”

But a moment later, another thought occurred to him.
*Are we not close enough for her to share something with me, even if she wasn't certain?*
So the prince asked again.

“But why did you expose it if you weren't sure?”

Alfonso was unaware of it himself, but there was an answer he was secretly hoping to hear.
That was why he pressed her for an answer.

“Ah, well...”

Ariadne hesitated for a moment.
"Because your half-brother was being a scumbag" would have been an accurate description of the facts, but emotionally, there was a more honest answer.

“Because it looked like you were going to buy it.”

Prince Alfonso's face flushed crimson.
It was the answer he had been subconsciously craving.
*‘You are special.’*
The words he had longed to hear had come from her lips.
Alfonso wanted to ask her one more question.
But before the atmosphere could turn strange, Ariadne let out her characteristic burst of cheerful laughter and lightly punched Alfonso's shoulder.
The boy had to close his lips in disappointment.

“You know, you saved 2,000 ducats thanks to me. You owe me one, you know?”

Her straightforwardness forcibly pulled Alfonso out of his reverie.
He laughed along with her.

“Is that how it is? That's a very large sum. How shall I ever repay this debt, my lady?”

“A lump-sum payment of 2,000 gold ducats?”

“A master thief stands before me!”

Alfonso feigned shock, taking a large step back and throwing up his hands.

“The merchant from Porto at least brought a fake statue, but you, my lady, are trying to get it for nothing!”

Looking at Prince Alfonso's face, Ariadne laughed cheerfully once more.

“Grant me a wish later!”

“A wish? What will you ask for?”

In response to the prince's question, Ariadne gave a casual shrug.

“I don't know yet.”

“Alright, I promise.”

Prince Alfonso readily accepted the promise to fulfill a debt whose terms had not even been decided.
Had the court officials seen this, they would have collectively cried, 'Your Highness, we beseech you to reconsider! You must not do this!'
But right now, he wanted to give Ariadne anything and everything.
Any excuse to be entangled with her was welcome.
If Ariadne asked for the kingdom, he could use the pretext of negotiations to see her for another three weeks, couldn't he?

“Sigh, I should probably be going now.”

For the first time between them, it was Prince Alfonso who announced the end of their meeting.
Alfonso had a dinner engagement at the royal palace that evening and needed to hurry back to stay on schedule.
Reluctant to leave, he glanced at Ariadne a couple of times before miming the act of writing with his hand.

“Write to me!”

“Huh?”

“No, I'll write to you! Write back!”

Ariadne nodded in a daze.
The prince sought confirmation again.

“You must write back!”

Despite Ariadne nodding her head repeatedly like a broken wind-up doll, Prince Alfonso seemed unconvinced, only boarding his carriage after receiving her assurance two, three times.
As the gilded four-horse carriage departed the main gate of the Cibo residence with a clatter, the curtain in the back was drawn aside, revealing Prince Alfonso's face looking out the window.
Ariadne smiled and waved for a long, long time, until the carriage was out of sight.
* * *
After word of her exposing the Porto merchant's fraud at the Cibo residence spread throughout San Carlo, Ariadne grew anxious, fearing she would be dragged before Cardinal de Mare again to explain the source of her 'insight'.
She rummaged through the house, found all the books on fine arts, archaeology, and the history of the ancient Hellenia period, then stacked them high in her new study and began to read.
Only after she had organized everything, noting the chapter and verse where the relevant information could be found in the literature so she could recite it from memory if anyone asked, "How did you know that?", did she finally breathe a sigh of relief and relax.
The man impersonating 'Vincenzo del Gatto', a merchant from the Republic of Porto, was revealed to be a sculptor, the illegitimate son of a nobleman from Lastera.
They had been gambling friends. After an argument over gambling funds with the real Vincenzo del Gatto led to an accidental murder, the sculptor decided that since he had already killed a man, he might as well clear his gambling debts. He borrowed Vincenzo del Gatto's name, plundered his art warehouse, and planned to pull off one big scam before disappearing.

‘So Cesare ended up chasing a wild goose.’

Hearing this story, Ariadne felt a secret sense of satisfaction.
Cesare must have orchestrated this whole affair hoping to uncover some conspiracy involving merchant guilds, disputes over rights, or internal problems in the Republic of Porto, all to win his father's favor.
But after all that digging, it turned out to be nothing more than the transgression of an individual—an affair hardly worth the cost of the Cibo residence's floorboards.
The sky was high and the weather was clear.
It was a beautiful early autumn, the sweltering heat having departed early.
Then one day, Cardinal de Mare summoned both Ariadne and Lucrezia to his drawing room.
- *Knock, knock.*
Ariadne knocked on the door to the Cardinal's drawing room and entered cautiously.
Lucrezia was already there, seated in the drawing room.

“Father, you summoned your unworthy daughter.”

“Mm. Sit down.”

Until now, she had always addressed him as 'Your Eminence', except when she wanted to vex him in front of others. But after his promise to hold a débutante ball for her, her heart had softened, and she found herself calling him Father.
Lucrezia's face was full of displeasure, either because she disliked the title or because she had already heard something from the Cardinal.

“I have already spoken with your mother. Now that you've come of age, I understand you must have various personal expenses.”

*‘I bought a safe and some artwork, yes.’*

Though she was talking back in her head, Ariadne merely bowed her head lower.

“I am sorry, Father.”

“No, no, it is only natural for a grown daughter to have reasonable personal expenses. So, I was thinking, how about you manage your own spending with an allowance? We must hold your débutante ball soon, mustn't we?”

Ariadne's expression brightened instantly.

“I can only thank you for your grace, Father.”

“You've lived without these things for so long, it's time to catch up. I will also give you the entire budget for the débutante ball.”

Cardinal de Mare glanced sideways at Lucrezia.

“Your mother has not been feeling well lately, so I fear she won't be able to help much with the ball preparations.”

Lucrezia was as healthy as a horse.
However, the Cardinal had made a very rational prediction: if he entrusted the preparations for his mistreated second daughter's ball to Lucrezia, about half the budget would find its way into her pockets before flowing on to her insufferable family.
The disgrace of a shabby de Mare ball, arranged with a depleted budget, would fall upon him as the head of the family.
Lucrezia had no desire to admit that she had lost some control over the household finances because she had been caught pocketing money.
So, she decided to play along with the Cardinal's excuse and pretend to be ill. And Ariadne, seeing that the two had come to an agreement, had no intention of bringing up the actual truth and ruining things.
And so, they exchanged a few words of concern and well-wishes for the perfectly healthy Lucrezia's health.

“I will give you 150 ducats for now. Start the preparations with this, and if it's not enough, you can always come and ask for more.”

He trusted neither the government nor his fifteen-year-old younger daughter.
The Cardinal considered about 300 ducats to be a suitable budget for a débutante ball, with a maximum expenditure of 500 ducats.
His plan was to give her a tight budget to start with and monitor her progress.

“I understand, Father.”

But Ariadne was a professional among professionals, an administrator who had managed the household of the Etruscan royal palace for nine years.