Chapter 77

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: The One Who Submits to Fate, The One Who Resists Fate
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“Your Highness, the Etruscan countryside is simply beautiful!”

During a break from their journey, the prince and his retinue were resting in a clearing beside a forest, where portable tables and chairs had been set up. Grand Duchess Lariesa, having alighted from her carriage, approached the prince's party with her attendants as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and began to speak. Her demeanor suggested that since the land of Etruscan was one she would one day rule as queen, and the prince her future husband, Prince Alfonso was naturally obligated to welcome her. With a pale face, Prince Alfonso observed flawless etiquette, pulling out the chair before him to offer Grand Duchess Lariesa a seat.

“Please sit, Grand Duchess.”

Lariesa confidently sat down in the chair Alfonso had pulled out for her. She no longer even tried to speak Etruscan. Instead, she made a different kind of effort. Whenever she had a moment, she would come and sit closely beside Alfonso, talking to him without rest.

“Is the southern villa beautiful?”

“It is merely a small palace for passing the winter. It is not a place likely to meet the Grand Duchess's standards, so I would advise against getting your hopes up.”

Alfonso had once praised the beauty of the southern villa to Ariadne, but he had no desire to do so for Lariesa. He didn't want to please her with pleasantries, and he had even less inclination to boast of his possessions to her. Besides, he dreaded the headache of having to appease her if he praised the villa's beauty, only for the fastidious duchess to be disappointed upon seeing it for herself. Alfonso mechanically offered Lariesa tea and pastries in turn. It was the typical courtesy a host shows a guest, a fiancé his fiancée. But Lariesa interpreted it differently.

“You remembered whether I add the milk before or after the tea! I'm so delighted.”

Lariesa smiled brightly and looked at Alfonso. The sight of Lariesa, who had plain features and looked somewhat old for her age, expressing her joy with the exaggerated reaction of a child, was strangely dissonant. Why was that woman so convinced he would be pleased by her show of affection? Since the masquerade ball, Lariesa had acted as if the two incidents of that day—her lie about winning an honorable mention at the Prix de Montpellier and her running off into the garden—had never occurred. Instead, she was excessively forward with Alfonso and overly kind, as if she believed she could offset her own wrongdoing by being nice.

‘I’m humbling myself and being kind to you, so let’s just pretend what I did never happened and not mention it again. We’re destined to be together, after all. I’ll endure this once and be magnanimous toward you. So you should be affectionate to me, too.’

Alfonso let a smile touch his lips, matching Lariesa's mood. But his eyes were not smiling.

“Your well-being is my greatest joy, Grand Duchess.”

Lariesa seemed not to notice the dissonance in Alfonso's expressionless, sweet words. She smiled tactlessly and replied to Alfonso.

“It's like magic that you know everything I like and dislike, Your Highness. It must be a sign that we're destined for each other, right?”

The weather was growing colder, and Alfonso's heart was freezing along with the season. The verdant green, the hot summer, the midsummer hydrangeas, and the girl with dazzlingly bright green eyes were like recalling a summer shower in the dead of winter. Recalling a happiness he could not have, one that would never return, was excruciatingly painful. But he was the father of his people, and he had a duty to fulfill for them. Sacrifice. Hardship. Love for all. For this, he had to set aside his personal love. That was the right thing to do.

***

The autumn of 1122 was bountiful, and the winter that followed was bone-chillingly cold. The weather was just as it had been in her past life. Ariadne kept herself busy, working her body to the point of exhaustion to keep stray thoughts at bay. Despite the unprecedented event of the prince's promised invitation not arriving, Ariadne was able to maintain her composure solely because she knew what would happen in the future. If one had to pick a single event from the year 1122, it would be the declaration of the Apostle of Acereto as a heretic. The comparable event of 1123 was, without a doubt, the assassination of Queen Marguerite.

‘It was absolute chaos.’

It was also the event that allowed Isabella to become the crown princess. Right after Cesare and Ariadne became engaged, Countess Rubina, who had become her mother-in-law, committed an audacious act. She put arsenic in Queen Marguerite's wine. The queen, who drank the arsenic-laced aperitif at the banquet, breathed her last that very evening. Countess Rubina claimed she did not poison the queen, but Salvarsan, a type of arsenic, was found in her chambers. No one believed in Countess Rubina's innocence, and she was immediately thrown into prison. After an investigation and trial, the countess was swiftly executed by beheading. A mere king's mistress assassinating the queen, the mother of the nation, was a major incident, but a bigger problem arose afterward. The Kingdom of Gallico, seizing upon the fact that their legitimate princess, whom they had carefully raised and sent over, had fallen victim to the jealousy of the king's mistress in a foreign land, demanded that the Kingdom of Etruscan compensate for the life of a royal. The Kingdom of Etruscan offered a certain amount of consolation money, but the Kingdom of Gallico scoffed, saying it was far from enough.

‘It wasn't a problem that could be solved with gold.’

When no further satisfactory offer was made, the Kingdom of Gallico immediately dispatched their famed heavy cavalry to the Etruscan border. They were right at the doorstep of the Gaeta region. The Margrave of Gaeta was obligated to defend the border, but he was half Gallican. The land of Gaeta was situated right next to the Kingdom of Gallico, so the people of Gaeta were all familiar with Gallican culture and language. Furthermore, the ruling family of Gaeta had a long history of intermarrying with Gallican nobles. The current Margrave of Gaeta was born to a Gallican mother and had taken a Gallican noblewoman as his wife. As soon as Montpellier's heavy cavalry and artillery units arrived beneath his castle walls, the Margrave of Gaeta surrendered with a white flag and swore an oath of allegiance to the King of Gallico. He smoothly transitioned from the Etruscan ruling class to the Gallican ruling class. The country was thrown into an uproar.

- “How can a noble, who has a duty to protect the country, offer up territory to an enemy nation!”

- “A scoundrel who casts aside oaths of loyalty like a worn-out shoe!”

- “It's because he's half-filthy Gallican!”

- “His mother is Gallican, his wife is Gallican—can you even call such a person an Etruscan?”

The collateral damage, absurdly, hit Prince Alfonso, who had lost his mother less than half a year prior.

- “Our future king also has a Gallican mother and is set to marry a Gallican woman.”

- “How can we serve such a person as our king?”

- “We'll have the ridiculous situation of an Etruscan king who isn't even Etruscan!”

While nothing could be done about the fact that his mother was Gallican, it was possible to change his yet-unwedded fiancée from a Gallican to an Etruscan. When the worsening public opinion among both the nobility and the common people escalated into a tax-revolt movement against the capital, Palazzo Carlo hastily sent a notice of annulment to the engaged Grand Duchess Lariesa. Palazzo Carlo ignored the fuming Grand Duke Eudes de Valois and hurriedly sought a domestic bride to change the situation. Two final candidates emerged. Giulia de Valdesal, daughter of Marquis Valdesal, and Isabella de Mare, eldest daughter of Cardinal de Mare. After Leo III, declaring he could not tolerate in-laws with military power, excluded all daughters of the feudal nobility, only those two daughters of suitable age, reputation, and tolerable family background remained. The Kingdom of Etruscan, on the brink of collapse, desperately needed the mediation of the Holy See. The path to reclaiming the Gaeta region through military force was distant, so the only remaining option was a diplomatic solution. Furthermore, in the summer of 1123, the Black Death began to spread throughout the Kingdom of Etruscan. It was hopeless. By then, the Gaeta region was no longer the main issue; food and medical aid had become the immediate problems. In the end, the choice fell upon Isabella de Mare, the cardinal's daughter, who could sway the decision-making of the Holy See.

‘It was ironic.’

Isabella's greatest pride was her beautiful appearance, yet what brought her greatest achievement was not her beauty, but her father's power. It was ironic.

‘All I have to do is wait.’

As for their father's power, Ariadne enjoyed it just the same. Currently, Isabella's reputation was already considerably damaged. The trust of her father, Cardinal de Mare, was also now leaning toward Ariadne. If they had to choose which of Cardinal de Mare's two daughters would become the prince's partner now, most bookmakers would bet their money on Ariadne. Unlike in her past life, it was concerning that Grand Duchess Lariesa had followed Alfonso all the way to Taranto, but no matter what Lariesa did in Taranto, she could not marry Alfonso if Queen Marguerite was assassinated.

“It will be fine.”

Queen Marguerite had treated her very well. She was a fair and strict mistress of the nation, but at the same time, a gentle person. She was someone who had extended a warm hand to Ariadne multiple times, though she had no reason to show such favor.

“What can I do?”

Ariadne shook her head, trying to cast off the pangs of conscience. The assassination of Queen Marguerite was an event on a national scale. Ariadne had only just barely secured a little room to maneuver within the de Mare family. Even in the Apostle of Acereto incident, where Ariadne had played her biggest role, she had merely piggybacked on it; she hadn't changed the event itself. The assassination of Queen Marguerite was not an incident of a scale she could interfere with. She wanted to believe that.

“It can't be helped.”

It's something beyond my control. It's going to happen, and it can't be stopped. But Alfonso will be so sad when Her Majesty Queen Marguerite passes away. In her past life, too, the prince had become noticeably more taciturn after the queen's death. At his own wedding, held grandly right after his mother's funeral, the prince had not looked happy at all. But it has to be okay. It will be okay.

***

There were several unused rooms and sheds in the de Mare grand mansion, and Ariadne needed a storeroom. However, the authority to decide the use of those rooms belonged to the mistress of the house, Lucrezia. She looked into renting a separate building outside the cardinal's residence, but the security in San Carlo wasn't that good. If she just left things in an empty house, petty thieves—too insignificant to even be called proper burglars—would quickly break the locks and steal everything. As things stood, Ariadne didn't have the manpower to post guards at a warehouse outside the mansion.

“I need a male servant.”

“Won't the butler, Niccolo, do?”

“How can I use an opportunist who just watches which way the wind blows for important matters? I need someone loyal and trustworthy.”

Good help didn't just fall from the sky. Ariadne decided to take more time and wait for an opportunity. Originally, she had planned to hoard wheat, whose price had dropped due to a bountiful harvest, but without storage space, she had no choice but to collect small, expensive items rather than cheap, bulky ones. What Ariadne chose instead was beeswax.

“My lady, why are you buying this now? Are we going into the candle business?”

Beeswax was an ingredient for high-quality candles, used to seal letters, and also used in cosmetics and simple medicines. Among its uses, it was known to be particularly effective for skin diseases. But that wasn't the reason Ariadne was hoarding beeswax.

“In life, you never know what might become important, do you?”

In the summer of 1123, the Black Death would strike the entire Kingdom of Etruscan. During the Black Death pandemic, beeswax was a substance applied to outer clothing and the entire body to prevent the disease. Beeswax, a substance extracted from honeycombs, was believed to be a material sent down from the heavens, as it was made by bees that lived their entire lives chastely without mating. For that reason, the high-quality candles used in the cathedrals of the Holy See were made only from pure beeswax. But when the Black Death broke out, beeswax was revered as a human tool to combat the plague, which was called God's punishment from the heavens. In reality, coating one's skin and outer garments with beeswax did reduce the chances of contracting the plague. The Black Death of 1123 was also the event that had taken the life of young Arabella in her previous life. Ariadne intended to turn this crisis into an opportunity. Ariadne had about 70 ducats in spare funds on hand. It was the sum of the queen's donation entrusted to the Rambouillet Almshouse, the emergency fund she had hidden away during the débutante ball, the leftover allowance she had been receiving directly from Cardinal de Mare at 10 ducats a month for the past few months, plus the money she received from pawning some of Count Cesare's overflowing gifts. With this money, she bought up any reasonably priced beeswax available on the market, no questions asked. The highest quality beeswax was imported from the Latgalin region, east of the central continent, but Ariadne didn't insist on the best quality and steadily bought up even Etruscan-produced beeswax as long as the price was right. Her budget wasn't very large and there was plenty of time left, so there was no need to hoard enough to cause market fluctuations. She stored the beeswax she collected this way by commandeering a room attached to the kitchen of the Cardinal de Mare's residence. In response to Ariadne's uninhibited actions, Giada, the head maid under Lucrezia, protested Ariadne's unauthorized use of the room.

“My lady, you can't just use this room as you please!”

“Giada. Is that on my mother's orders?”