Chapter 69

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: My Savior Who Will Ruin Me
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ariadne bit her lip. Her most straightforward escape route was blocked. People began to murmur.

- “Is that woman Cardinal de Mare’s second daughter? The one who defeated the Apostle of Acereto?”

- “Isn’t she renowned for her theological knowledge? Surely a devout lady wouldn’t do such a thing?”

- “You never know what’s in a person’s heart! Even in monasteries, scandals erupt among the clergy every now and then!”

Someone demanded of Ariadne.

“Take off your mask!”

It was a demand with no logical basis. No one here had seen the face of the mysterious woman who had fled. Unmasking Ariadne would be of no help in identifying Marquis Campa’s secret lover. But the people, half out of curiosity and half to affirm the superiority of the group they occupied, added their voices.

- “That’s right, take off the mask!”

- “Let’s see your face!”

- “What are you so ashamed of that you can’t take off your mask?”

A plausible reason was tacked on later.

- “If the mistress took off her mask, her makeup would be all smeared. They must have been kissing and biting. Her face is probably a mess, so she can’t take it off.”

Ariadne had no intention of removing her mask here. Taking it off wasn’t difficult in itself. But once she yielded, even in a small way, to the irrational demands of the public, they would inevitably demand more and more. To a lamb that had surrendered, the mob could become far more cruel than the sum of its individual members. If she lost her momentum, she’d be overwhelmed in an instant. Ariadne held her head high and replied.

“It is true that I am Ariadne de Mare, but I am not Marquis Campa’s secret lover, nor am I in a position to prove anything to you. On the contrary, I find this baseless misunderstanding deeply unpleasant.”

Ariadne spoke only the truth, but regardless, someone took offense at her haughty demeanor. The anger quickly spread to those nearby.

- “A misunderstanding? How can it be a misunderstanding when there’s so much evidence?”

- “What about the bracelet? Why won’t you take off your mask?”

The crowd was about to boil over.

“It’s not a misunderstanding, it’s slander.”

The voice that answered the crowd’s question was not Ariadne’s, but a man’s deep baritone. It was Prince Alfonso, his voice having passed through puberty and now settling into that of a full-grown man. After Ariadne had coldly left him in the garden, Alfonso had wandered through it with a troubled heart. He told himself he was looking for Lariesa, but in truth, the person he desperately sought was Ariadne. As he searched for the woman in the golden dress, he had kept hoping she would have black hair rather than brown, and smooth, serene, healthy skin rather than a pale and dry complexion. In the midst of this, a great commotion had erupted, and when he rushed to the clearing, the woman he most wanted to see was standing there. The moment he found her, he had no choice but to admit he hadn’t been looking for Grand Duchess Lariesa. The thought of wandering the garden any longer vanished. His destination was right before his eyes. But the woman he sought was the center of attention for an unsavory affair. Considering diplomatic relations, Prince Alfonso should never have uttered a word about being with Ariadne here. Alfonso was, by nature, a man who took duty and responsibility seriously. But his mouth moved on its own.

“The younger Miss de Mare has been with me this entire time.”

His wondrous Ariadne was being dangerously slandered with an absurd accusation. He didn't just add his voice; he rushed to the center of the clearing and stood beside Ariadne. Alfonso instinctively drew her into a protective embrace, hiding her from the crowd’s eyes. Even so, the crowd continued to gather. Holding Ariadne close, Alfonso raised his voice and shouted to the people.

“There is nothing to see here. Miss de Mare has been with me the entire time. To say that she, a virtuous lady, is Marquis Campa’s secret lover is a falsehood that severely damages her honor.”

One of the nobles politely raised an objection to Alfonso’s words.

“But, Your Highness, you cannot possibly have been aware of Miss de Mare’s every single move.”

The crowd wanted a scapegoat.

“That’s right. Even now, you didn’t arrive together, you came separately.”

“If you weren’t by her side the whole time, how can you prove her alibi for the entire ball?”

Alfonso’s tone grew forceful as he pressed on.

“Miss de Mare was with me! Continuously! From the beginning of the ball to the end.”

Alfonso was not persuading, he was commanding. It was an authority ingrained in him as a future monarch.

“Her movements are accounted for, so let’s have no more talk of this. Everyone, disperse. And someone call a servant to take care of the person lying on the ground.”

Just as the crowd, now numbering nearly a hundred, began to grumble and turn away, thinking the entertaining spectacle was over, a voice rang out.

“You were with me, Your Highness. With me.”

From the bushes, another woman in a golden dress emerged. It was the medium-statured Grand Duchess Lariesa, wearing a volto mask just like Ariadne. She was a mess from wandering through the shrubbery. Lariesa, struggling to breathe, had pulled her mask down below her chin and was gasping for air.

- “Who is that woman?”

- “Isn’t she the state guest from the Kingdom of Gallico? The Grand Duchess?”

- “No wonder her speech is a bit clumsy.”

Covered in every kind of leaf and twig imaginable from the bushes, Grand Duchess Lariesa looked all the more pitiful as she questioned Prince Alfonso.

“You, not with that woman. With me. Lies. All lies. Who is that woman?”

In an instant, the scandal of Marquis Campa escalated into a scandal involving Prince Alfonso. The prince was lying. For whom? At Grand Duchess Lariesa’s accusation, the crowd began to stir once more.

- “The prince wasn’t with the younger Miss de Mare the whole time?”

- “Wait, so he was creating a false alibi for her?”

- “Why is that Grand Duchess crying?”

Lariesa, claiming Prince Alfonso had lied, let tears fall drop by drop from her large, downcast brown eyes. Lariesa couldn’t believe what was happening today. Her sister’s ‘Golden Prince’ had been passed to her. It was supposed to be the most perfect day imaginable, but she had ruined the mood with her strange words, and now the prince was defending some woman he didn’t even know. Lariesa wanted to slap her own face.

“Prince Alfonso, who is this woman?!”

An agitated Lariesa began to plead with Alfonso in Gallican.

“Weren’t we in formal marriage negotiations between our two kingdoms? How can a promise between nations be treated so lightly?”

The nobles who understood Gallican were startled by the talk of a royal marriage. Marriage talks were underway! They looked back and forth between the newly appeared noblewoman, Prince Alfonso, and Ariadne. A great stir went through the crowd. Prince Alfonso closed his eyes. How on earth could he fix this?

- “Well, why else would the Grand Duchess come all the way to Etruscan? Of course it’s for marriage talks. But her intended spent his time at a ball with another woman.”

- “Grand Duchess Lariesa came all the way to Etruscan just to meet Prince Alfonso. The whole country knows about it. She won’t be able to marry anyone else now, but the man’s attention is elsewhere. Tsk, tsk.”

- “I can’t believe it. To have his attention elsewhere while practically engaged, and for Marquis Campa’s mistress, no less? The prince has terrible taste in women… just like his father. Ugh!”

It was now becoming an accepted fact that Ariadne was Marquis Campa’s mistress.

- “So the second Miss de Mare has no one to prove her alibi? And that bracelet is hers, right?”

- “It’s a Collezione mask and necklace that go with the Collezione bracelet. How many of those could there be? On top of that, the dress color matches. It’s a sure thing.”

The situation was at its worst. Amidst the chaos, Alfonso decided to do what he could. He called his aide, Bernardino, from the crowd and gave him a few instructions. Upon receiving the prince's orders, Bernardino ran towards the Queen's Palace. Having given his instructions, Alfonso licked his dry lips. Now, all he could do was wait. He was burning up inside. Ariadne, too, bit her lip. But her thoughts were racing in a different direction. Grand Duchess Lariesa. The noble daughter of a monarch, appearing with the tiara of the Grand Duchy of Valois. In front of Cesare, she had feigned indifference with all her might, but seeing Lariesa in the flesh was agonizing.

‘The Grand Duchess of Valois is nothing. Just wait a little. When ‘that incident’ happens, she won’t be able to come near Alfonso ever again.’

Ariadne tried to steady herself by recalling a future event. But anxiety crept in. Would that event truly happen again in this life, without fail? Was the future fixed? If ‘that incident’ didn’t happen… She didn’t even want to think about it. The difference between Lariesa, who sought the prince’s side with the power of a nation behind her, and Ariadne, who had to achieve everything on her own, was stark.

“You! Speak!”

At Alfonso’s silence, Grand Duchess Lariesa turned her arrows on Ariadne.

“Why are you silent? Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

Frustrated, Lariesa pressed Ariadne in Gallican. Grand Duchess Lariesa was in turmoil as well. It was always more comforting to blame the mistress than the cheating husband. If Alfonso became the bad guy, then she, who had fallen for him, would be a fool. That was something Lariesa couldn’t bear. So she changed her target. That nine-tailed vixen must have seduced the innocent prince. When Ariadne didn’t answer, Lariesa assumed she didn’t understand Gallican and began to rail at her in Etruscan.

“Affair, you bad person! Prince, affair, impure! You bad person!”

On top of the affair with Marquis Campa, an affair with Prince Alfonso was now being treated as fact. Ariadne bit the inside of her cheek. How could she break through this? Lariesa’s agitation was growing. She went so far as to reveal her identity and unleash all her pent-up words in Gallican.

“I am Grand Duchess Lariesa, daughter of the Grand Duke of Valois! I am to be married to your country’s Prince Alfonso. Who are you to be seducing my man?”

Grand Duchess Lariesa approached Ariadne, pointing a finger at her and shouting.

“I despise immoral wretches like you who have no respect for the sanctity of marriage!”

In Grand Duchess Lariesa’s mind, it seemed she had already married Prince Alfonso. * * * The moment Grand Duchess Lariesa charged toward Ariadne, Prince Alfonso immediately called his aide, Bernardino, and gave him several instructions. He couldn’t leave Ariadne like this. Whatever the Kingdom of Gallico said, whether the marriage talks fell through or they sent knights to the border, he was determined to resolve this mess. Logically, the best person to mediate this situation was Queen Marguerite. The queen, a physician to declare Lariesa overly agitated, and attendants from the Kingdom of Gallico to escort her away—that would calm the situation. Bernardino ran into the palace to find the necessary people. But before the aide returned, the situation was resolved by a completely unexpected person.

“My, my, it seems there has been a misunderstanding.”

It was a smooth, pleasant tenor voice. As he finished speaking, he lifted his mask at an angle, resting it on his forehead to reveal his face. His sculpted, handsome face shone smoothly in the moonlight and the light of the torches placed around the garden.

“Count Cesare!”

“It’s Count Cesare!”

After savoring the crowd’s astonishment at his identity, Cesare smiled faintly and replied.

“To think the prince would endure such infamy for his half-brother… It seems the bonds of growing up together cannot be severed.”

To speak of the king’s illegitimate son in a formal setting was an insult to the royal family. Cesare should not have been able to utter such words in Alfonso’s presence. But right now, Cesare was the only lifeline for Alfonso and Ariadne. The current Alfonso was in no position to reprimand Cesare. Cesare moved smoothly through the crowd, drawing everyone’s gaze as he made his way to the center of the clearing. Passing Grand Duchess Lariesa, he stood beside Ariadne and elegantly kissed the back of her hand.

“Miss de Mare.”

“Count de Como.”

Receiving Ariadne’s greeting, Cesare grinned.

“It seems someone is terribly jealous of you, my lady. What to do? After today, the number of jealous people will surely grow.”

After his jest, Cesare turned to the crowd and raised his voice.

“This young lady is no mistress of Marquis Campa.”

He glanced at Alfonso.

“Nor is she the prince’s secret lover.”

Cesare looked at Grand Duchess Lariesa, gracefully stepping one foot back and bending his knee slightly in a show of respect.

“Worry not, Grand Duchess. Everything will proceed as it should.”

After whispering to Lariesa in Gallican, Cesare turned to everyone and declared.

“This young lady is the woman I am courting. She was with me the entire time.”

The appearance of a second man claiming to have been with Ariadne, and a third man presumed to have been with her. And what’s more, the Count Cesare himself, publicly announcing his courtship? The venue instantly erupted into chaos.