Chapter 55

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: The Truth Whispered by Count Cesare
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“Cannons and the formula for gunpowder? You're asking for quite a lot for nothing!”

Count Levien exclaimed in an agitated voice. Gunpowder was an asymmetric weapon that had recently begun to be imported into the central continent through discreet channels from alchemists of the Moorish Empire. The key to firearms using gunpowder was stabilization. While no nation or mercenary group had yet successfully incorporated personal firearms into combat, cannons as siege weapons were often put to practical use. And the Kingdom of Gallico was reputed to be the best at it.

“And you expect to secure the position of spouse to the first in line to the throne of the Kingdom of Etruscan with a mere grand duke's daughter, not even Grand Duchess Suzanne, for nothing in return?”

This time, Countess Marquez did not back down.

“I acknowledge that the Kingdom of Gallico has developed remarkably over the past twenty years, but it is not an empire!”

Having pushed her counterpart this far, Countess Marquez changed her tune and began to gently coax Count Levien.

“Twenty-odd years ago, when Queen Marguerite came to marry, we received the Gaeta region as her dowry and in return sent a bride price of 20,000 ducats and provided a loan of 80,000 ducats. Is that not what brought about the prosperity of the Kingdom of Gallico today? We can follow the good example of 'cooperation' set by our predecessors and reach a favorable conclusion.”

“A good example of 'cooperation'? Ha!”

Count Levien scoffed.

“Had the Kingdom of Gallico not been so powerless at the time, we would never have traded the Gaeta region for 100,000 ducats! To exchange territory for cash, and at such a paltry price! Is that even a reasonable sum!”

As an Etruscan, where finance was highly developed, she could never agree with the Gallican country bumpkin's stance that land was more sacred than money.

“Without those 100,000 ducats, would the Brienne dynasty still be on the throne today? Was it not with that timely provision of funds that the Kingdom of Gallico quelled its civil war and preserved its dynasty! What we gave in return for the Gaeta dowry was a lifeline for the 'Brienne dynasty,' not mere cash. If you truly believe that, Count Levien, then you have no sense of the importance of 'timing'!”

The arguments on both sides were tense. Unless they were to declare a breakdown in negotiations and go home, they would have to concede somewhere. Count Levien proposed a compromise.

“You insist that Grand Duchess Lariesa is insufficient, unlike Grand Duchess Suzanne. We propose that Grand Duchess Lariesa herself travel to the Kingdom of Etruscan for a visit.”

This was an extremely rare occurrence in diplomatic custom. Royals with succession rights rarely ventured beyond their kingdom's borders due to threats to their safety, and those in political marriages chose their spouses based on a single portrait and public reputation. This was true without exception, whether the party in question was the King of Gallico or a prince of Etruscan.

“Meet her in person and see for yourself what Grand Duchess Lariesa is truly like. She is not the person you imagine her to be.”

Countess Marquez wondered if the Gallican side was truly confident in their card, Grand Duchess Lariesa. At the same time, she suspected they were sending her abroad so freely because she lacked succession rights. As if sensing this, Count Levien quickly offered a supplementary measure.

“The issue of the Grand Duchess's status can be remedied by elevating it. That is the proper course of action. His Majesty Philippe IV is considering adopting Grand Duchess Lariesa as his own daughter before sending her to Etruscan. This would be an adoption that grants her the same rank in the line of succession as his own children.”

One had to play hard to get until the very end. Countess Marquez offered the most obvious rebuttal.

“In that case, Grand Duchess Lariesa and Prince Alfonso would be related within five degrees of kinship! That is a violation of the Holy See's prohibition on consanguineous marriage.”

“They would not be blood relatives. This is a matter that can be resolved by receiving a 'special dispensation' from His Holiness Pope Ludovico.”

The negotiations remained intense, and the atmosphere was harsh. Countess Marquez reached for water and drank it in one gulp. Much time had passed, and it was now late afternoon, bordering on early evening.

“It goes without saying, but this is not a decision I can make on my own. It seems we have covered all the points for today, so let us report to our superiors and discuss this again.”

“I agree. I will assume the next meeting will proceed as previously scheduled.”

The representatives of both kingdoms wiped their temples, damp with oil and sweat, with wet towels brought by their attendants, and left their respective tents. It was time to ascertain the intentions of the true decision-makers. * * *

“Ah, this isn't good. The sun is setting faster than I thought.”

Cesare and Ariadne were trying to find their way back, with Ariadne riding the horse and Cesare leading it on foot.

“I feel like we've been walking south for a while, but the forest is only getting thicker.”

“You'd think we'd run into some of the other hunt participants.”

The hunt was a one-day event, and they were naturally dressed and prepared only for a day's outing. They had no equipment for camping or spending the night in the forest.

“Say, doesn't it sound like there's water over there?”

At Ariadne's words, Cesare listened quietly.

“You're right. Sounds like there's a stream.”

He pulled the horse's reins in the direction of the sound.

“We should head that way.”

As he walked, he began to grumble.

“I mean, how can Lady de Mare have a man who was injured trying to save her lead the horse like a squire while she rides so shamelessly?”

“Ugh, my arm's so swollen, it's killing me,” he said, shaking his left arm with exaggerated flair, then grimaced as if it truly hurt. “Ouch.” Ariadne's lips jutted out in a pout of embarrassment and displeasure.

“Then I'll get down! You ride! I said I wouldn't ride in the first place, but you forced me on!”

“How can a gentleman ride a horse alone while a lady walks! Just sit there quietly, will you? Good grief, so picky.”

Cesare's grumbling was endless.

“And why didn't you accept the saddle I sent you, causing all this trouble? If you'd come with the saddle I sent, the stirrup would have opened, and your foot would have slipped right out.”

Cesare was a master equestrian and had a hobby of modifying saddles and harnesses to his personal taste.

“It had a feature like that?”

“You didn't even open it, I see.”

He continued to grumble.

“And, huh? Why did you have to go and provoke your cousin and get into this mess? If the great Count Cesare hadn't come to your magnificent rescue, you would have been in big trouble.”

Ariadne was already annoyed by his grumbling, but with that remark, she decided that any sense of debt she felt for him helping her, even breaking his arm in the process, was now fully repaid.

“So you're saying I should have just stood there and taken it?”

At Ariadne's sharp rebuke, Cesare snickered.

“What a temper. You should have just stabbed that bastard's horse in the rear first.”

He stopped pulling the reins and looked up at Ariadne intently.

“You picked a fight for nothing and almost got yourself into serious trouble.”

Cesare added another word.

“If you ever have a problem, just come running to Count Cesare. I'll show up in style and take care of everything.”

Ariadne replied with a bitter smile. *I saw you dozens, hundreds of times in my past life.*

“Liar. You're not that kind of person.”

At Ariadne's response, Cesare feigned exaggerated surprise.

“Well now, how did you know I was a liar?”

While walking and holding the reins, he moved as close as he could to Ariadne on the saddle and looked up at her intently. Cesare's favorite horse was an exceptionally tall steed, so his face only reached about the level of her thighs. It was a distance so close it felt as if she could feel his breath on her thigh.

“My lady, aren't you actually more interested in me than anyone else? You even knew I carry a club.”

Ariadne drew a sharp breath. Cesare had hit the nail on the head. *Yes, I'm more interested in you than anyone. I know everything about you. I watched your every move for fourteen years. Just watched. I won't live like that anymore.*

“That is not true. Please mind your own business.”

“Wow, so cold.”

Cesare was amazed that Ariadne wouldn't let down her iron wall, no matter how hard he laid on the charm.

“Do you know you're the only one in all of San Carlo who treats me this way?”

“How unfortunate that I cannot join the trend.”

Faced with Ariadne's stiff attitude, Cesare gave up and started talking about himself.

“I came to catch the 'Golden Stag' today. If I just catch that, victory in the hunt is a sure thing!”

Ah, the 'Golden Stag'. The very same 'Golden Stag' Cesare had rambled on about in his letter. Aside from Cesare's obsession, the tale of the 'Golden Stag' was quite well-known. It was a legend passed down through the ages in the Orte Forest. The story went that a 'Golden Stag,' having drunk from the spring of eternal life, lived in the forest. This stag was said to have brought an olive branch to the first king, Justino I, at the founding of the Kingdom of Etruscan. It was said that washing oneself with water from this spring would grant irresistible charm, that whoever caught the 'Golden Stag' would ascend to the throne, and that even one with no connection to the throne would enjoy great success in life. Of course, the Orte Forest was north of the capital and heavily frequented, so if a real spring of eternal life existed, pipes would have already been laid to connect it to the San Carlo Palace. Ariadne believed the story of the 'Golden Stag' was nothing more than a legend. However, the Cesare of her past life had repeatedly insisted that he had seen the 'Golden Stag' in the Orte Forest as a child, and that his own good looks were because he had washed his face with water from the same spring the stag drank from. Even in those days when she had yearned for Cesare, Ariadne had thought it was a ridiculous story. She suspected it was a tale fabricated by Cesare, who lacked legitimacy in the line of succession, to link himself to the founding myth. Cesare was indeed a chiseled beauty, with delicate features rarely seen in the mortal world. But his beauty was innate. He was often told that he looked exactly like his mother, Countess Rubina, who had passed away shortly after their engagement and whom he had barely met, except for their eye color.

“You're not just a liar, you're a braggart too.”

“Ah, how did you know that too?”

As they walked along, following the sound of water and exchanging trivial banter, a small stream indeed appeared before them.

“A stream! If we follow it downstream, we should be able to get out of the forest!”

“Shh!”

Cesare grabbed Ariadne's shin as she sat on the horse, silencing her. *What is with this man?* she thought, looking ahead, and then she too clamped both hands over her mouth.

*It's the Golden Stag!*

It was a large, golden stag with handsome, symmetrical antlers. Its coat, which should have been light brown, was a brilliant gold, with each strand of fur seeming to emit its own light. Instead of white spots, its sleek body was adorned with shimmering silver dots. Ariadne felt a sense of awe, seeing the 'Golden Stag' she thought couldn't possibly exist displaying its noble form right before her eyes. She glanced back at Cesare.

*I thought he was nothing but a braggart, but it seems he tells the truth sometimes...*

She felt a pang of guilt. Of course, that guilt was not even a drop in the ocean compared to what he had done to her. Ariadne hardened her softening heart and shot another glare at Cesare. *He might say something sensible once in a while, but no, that man is trash.* The stag, as wary as Ariadne herself, was drinking from the stream, carefully surveying its surroundings. Its quietly bowed head exuded dignity. Suddenly, the 'Golden Stag' lifted its head and looked toward Ariadne and Cesare. The eyes of one stag and two humans met.