The young knight looked at his master's lady. Under the veil covering her face, he could see her glossy skin and smiling lips. It was a very elegant smile. He looked up at Ariadne bluntly, then bowed his head and said.
“There is no last name.”
Ariadne nodded.
“I heard that among his knights there are several who are of commoner origin.”
He didn't answer at all.
“By carriage. I can drive the carriage.”
He looked at the coachman Giuseppe as if he found it inconvenient. Ariadne shook her head.
“Are you going to see me off when I return home?”
She added with a smile.
“Or are you telling me to drive the carriage myself on the way home?”
Sir Elko blushed and no longer complained about Giuseppe's company. Instead of riding in the carriage, Sir Elko sat next to Giuseppe and coached him through the back streets of Centro Anima in an amazing way. He seemed to know all the roads that were not easily seen by people.
“I guess you are a native of San Carlo, Sir.”
Giuseppe tried to talk to Elko. However, the gray-haired knight had a stiff expression and did not respond. It was common for knights to be arrogant. Since they were the same age and the other person was not a nobleman, Giuseppe thought it would be worth talking to them. He felt a little offended, but he pretended not to know and quickly drove the carriage.
“Let’s park in the back alley over there and wait.”
The knight Elko designated a narrow alley right behind Piazza Pietro, right in the center of Centro Anima. Giuseppe skillfully parked his carriage right against the wall of the alley as instructed by Elko, and Sir Elko jumped down from the seat next to the coachman and stood guard with his sword. It was a mood that did not match the ordinary black carriage that Ariadne had deliberately chosen to ride in.
After waiting in the back alley for about ten minutes, another black carriage approached. The driver of the new carriage exchanged glances with Elko, and then briefly passed the two carriages before stopping. Elko opened the door of Ariadne’s carriage first, escorted her out, and then opened the door of the second carriage.
"Ari!"
Ariadne looked forward at the familiar voice. Alfonso was riding in a plain black carriage with a face full of joy. He reached out and helped Ariadne get into the carriage, and with the help of Sir Elcor, who put one knee on the floor and the other knee up to use his thigh as a foothold, Ariadne was able to move to a new carriage in less than a second.
"Ari!"
Ariadne looked forward at the familiar voice. Alfonso was riding in a plain black carriage with a face full of joy. He reached out and helped Ariadne get into the carriage, and with the help of Sir Elcor, who put one knee on the floor and the other knee up to use his thigh as a foothold, Ariadne was able to move to a new carriage in less than a second.
As soon as the carriage door closed, Prince Alfonso hugged Ariadne tightly.
"I miss you!"
The passionate embrace pushed Ariadne's head covering back and fell off. The French hood that had hidden all her hair fell off, and Ariadne's ebony hair flowed down her shoulders and chest like a waterfall. A sweet scent wafted from the woman's hair. It was the same scent he had smelled when he entered Ariadne's bedroom at the debutante ball.
"I miss you!"
The passionate embrace pushed Ariadne's head covering back and fell off. The French hood that had hidden all her hair fell off, and Ariadne's ebony hair flowed down her shoulders and chest like a waterfall. A sweet scent wafted from the woman's hair. It was the same scent he had smelled when he entered Ariadne's bedroom at the debutante ball.
Alfonso did what he had wanted to do but had not been able to do at the time. The prince's lips covered the girl's.
"Ah."
Ariadne responded to Alfonso's kiss with a short moan. The boy responded passionately to the girl's body heat, and she happily welcomed him. It was an experience that was overwhelming for the first time in their lives, where they forgot sight and hearing and were overwhelmed by heat, touch, and smell. They shared their body heat and didn't even realize the time had passed.
"Ha..."
When she came to, the carriage was filled with steam. The carriage windows were covered with moisture, making it impossible to see outside. Ariadne wiped the windows with her palm and looked outside.
“Where are we?”
She ran her hand through her messy hair. Her thick black hair flowed down her shoulders and chest. Alfonso put down Ariadne, who was embracing him, and interlocked his hands with those of the woman who sat down next to him.
“We’re taking a carriage ride around the town of San Carlo. We’ve set aside about 40 minutes... We’ve set aside.”
They had wasted a good half hour. Alfonso looked out the window to gauge how much time was left.
“...We’re just past the border of Castel Ravico. I think we have about ten minutes left until Piazza Pietro.”
Alfonso stroked Ariadne's cheek with his other hand, which was not intertwined with his. She smiled slightly and leaned her head on the Prince's shoulder. The warm scent tickled her nose. She leaned over like a languid cat and asked. As always, curiosity took precedence over peace.
“How did you get out of the palace today?”
Prince Alfonso was originally scheduled to meet the local cooperative president of Centro Anima at the palace today. Prince Alfonso was scheduled to deliver a congratulatory speech representing the royal family at the spring festival in Piazza Pietro, the center of Centro Anima. But the local cooperative president suggested at the last minute that it would be nice to meet him at the palace, but that the Prince should come to the square and look around the daffodil altar where he would deliver his speech. Alfonso exclaimed that it was all right and that he would go out. Of course, he did not want to see the daffodil altar.
“I had something to do. I missed you so much.”
A woman who spoke logic and a man who spoke emotions. The details of why he came out of the palace were not important to him. The only thing that mattered was his desire to see her. Alfonso stroked Ariadne’s hair as he ran his fingers through it. She smiled at his touch and leaned her head on the Prince’s shoulder. Her warm body odor tickled his nose. Yes, when people are in contact like this, what does the reason for coming out matter? However, Alfonso also conveyed what he had to convey.
“As for me, I’ve already talked to my mother.”
When they last spoke, Queen Marguerite had urged Leo III not to bring up the subject without consulting her. Prince Alfonso had asked his mother to come to a conclusion within a month. Queen Marguerite had not yet responded, but the month they had agreed upon was approaching. He had intended to ask his mother what she had decided, but he had decided to tell his father about the breakup, regardless of her decision.
“It will bear fruit soon.”
Alfonso lifted Ariadne's chin and lightly kissed her lips.
“Next time at the ball, I won’t let you worry about turning down a partner offer from a guy you absolutely hate.”
Alfonso looked into Ariadne's eyes.
“Please wait a little longer.”
Ariadne nodded.
“Until then, I have no choice but to depend on Raphael de Baldessar.”
Alfonso hugged Ariadne tightly with a dissatisfied expression and made a condition.
“No holding hands with bare hands.”
“What? Why am I holding hands with that guy?”
“You have to put your hand on someone when you escort them, and you have to hold their hand when you waltz.”
“That won’t work either?”
Ariadne asked in amazement. That kind of basic escorting was something that anyone could do. Even a married lady who had circumstances that required her to attend a ball with someone other than her husband could do it. It wasn't even described as 'being comfortable with a stranger'. If you refused to be escorted by your ball partner, everyone in the ballroom would look in your direction!
“So, wear gloves and hold them. Never with bare hands.”
"Ha ha ha..."
“Never be alone together, except when dancing on the floor. Always be with several people at the same time. Never walk in the garden alone.”
“You say you’re friends, but are you jealous of your friends?”
“I can barely contain myself from hating any four-legged thing near you.”
“It’s a leap!”
“Shh, be quiet.”
Alfonso once again silenced Ariadne's question with his lips.
"Ah."
Ariadne responded to Alfonso's kiss with a short moan. The boy responded passionately to the girl's body heat, and she happily welcomed him. It was an experience that was overwhelming for the first time in their lives, where they forgot sight and hearing and were overwhelmed by heat, touch, and smell. They shared their body heat and didn't even realize the time had passed.
"Ha..."
When she came to, the carriage was filled with steam. The carriage windows were covered with moisture, making it impossible to see outside. Ariadne wiped the windows with her palm and looked outside.
“Where are we?”
She ran her hand through her messy hair. Her thick black hair flowed down her shoulders and chest. Alfonso put down Ariadne, who was embracing him, and interlocked his hands with those of the woman who sat down next to him.
“We’re taking a carriage ride around the town of San Carlo. We’ve set aside about 40 minutes... We’ve set aside.”
They had wasted a good half hour. Alfonso looked out the window to gauge how much time was left.
“...We’re just past the border of Castel Ravico. I think we have about ten minutes left until Piazza Pietro.”
Alfonso stroked Ariadne's cheek with his other hand, which was not intertwined with his. She smiled slightly and leaned her head on the Prince's shoulder. The warm scent tickled her nose. She leaned over like a languid cat and asked. As always, curiosity took precedence over peace.
“How did you get out of the palace today?”
Prince Alfonso was originally scheduled to meet the local cooperative president of Centro Anima at the palace today. Prince Alfonso was scheduled to deliver a congratulatory speech representing the royal family at the spring festival in Piazza Pietro, the center of Centro Anima. But the local cooperative president suggested at the last minute that it would be nice to meet him at the palace, but that the Prince should come to the square and look around the daffodil altar where he would deliver his speech. Alfonso exclaimed that it was all right and that he would go out. Of course, he did not want to see the daffodil altar.
“I had something to do. I missed you so much.”
A woman who spoke logic and a man who spoke emotions. The details of why he came out of the palace were not important to him. The only thing that mattered was his desire to see her. Alfonso stroked Ariadne’s hair as he ran his fingers through it. She smiled at his touch and leaned her head on the Prince’s shoulder. Her warm body odor tickled his nose. Yes, when people are in contact like this, what does the reason for coming out matter? However, Alfonso also conveyed what he had to convey.
“As for me, I’ve already talked to my mother.”
When they last spoke, Queen Marguerite had urged Leo III not to bring up the subject without consulting her. Prince Alfonso had asked his mother to come to a conclusion within a month. Queen Marguerite had not yet responded, but the month they had agreed upon was approaching. He had intended to ask his mother what she had decided, but he had decided to tell his father about the breakup, regardless of her decision.
“It will bear fruit soon.”
Alfonso lifted Ariadne's chin and lightly kissed her lips.
“Next time at the ball, I won’t let you worry about turning down a partner offer from a guy you absolutely hate.”
Alfonso looked into Ariadne's eyes.
“Please wait a little longer.”
Ariadne nodded.
“Until then, I have no choice but to depend on Raphael de Baldessar.”
Alfonso hugged Ariadne tightly with a dissatisfied expression and made a condition.
“No holding hands with bare hands.”
“What? Why am I holding hands with that guy?”
“You have to put your hand on someone when you escort them, and you have to hold their hand when you waltz.”
“That won’t work either?”
Ariadne asked in amazement. That kind of basic escorting was something that anyone could do. Even a married lady who had circumstances that required her to attend a ball with someone other than her husband could do it. It wasn't even described as 'being comfortable with a stranger'. If you refused to be escorted by your ball partner, everyone in the ballroom would look in your direction!
“So, wear gloves and hold them. Never with bare hands.”
"Ha ha ha..."
“Never be alone together, except when dancing on the floor. Always be with several people at the same time. Never walk in the garden alone.”
“You say you’re friends, but are you jealous of your friends?”
“I can barely contain myself from hating any four-legged thing near you.”
“It’s a leap!”
“Shh, be quiet.”
Alfonso once again silenced Ariadne's question with his lips.
***
Today, Ariadne went out on a pleasant surprise. But Ariadne wasn't the only one enjoying the sweet outing.
'How long has it been since I've been invited?'
Isabella hummed as she held the white veil on her head tightly so that it wouldn’t fall down. She wanted to wear her usual dress that looked like a dragonfly wing, as spring had come, but she held back and chose a dark black mourning dress. In any case, Ariadne was holding the family finances tightly, so Isabella couldn’t afford to buy new clothes.
'It's okay. It'll turn around eventually.'
Lucrezia was now dead, and Isabella had no power to snatch the sack of gold from Ariadne. Unless there was a new mother, Ariadne would continue to manage the household. But women grow up and get married. Isabella was going to become the new mistress of the house and spend the gold lavishly.
“We are going to Count Bartolini’s house.”
She was surprised to see the carriage come out, for the coachmen had brought the silver carriage usually used by the Cardinal and Ariadne.
'Father, you are at home today, but Ariadne is not at home, so why didn't you take this carriage?'
Isabella frowned slightly at the unusual situation but quickly brushed it off. Well, it would be nice to ride in a nice carriage. It was a good thing. It was a chance to let Countess Bartolini know that she was not an outcast in the household.
'How long has it been since I've been invited?'
Isabella hummed as she held the white veil on her head tightly so that it wouldn’t fall down. She wanted to wear her usual dress that looked like a dragonfly wing, as spring had come, but she held back and chose a dark black mourning dress. In any case, Ariadne was holding the family finances tightly, so Isabella couldn’t afford to buy new clothes.
'It's okay. It'll turn around eventually.'
Lucrezia was now dead, and Isabella had no power to snatch the sack of gold from Ariadne. Unless there was a new mother, Ariadne would continue to manage the household. But women grow up and get married. Isabella was going to become the new mistress of the house and spend the gold lavishly.
“We are going to Count Bartolini’s house.”
She was surprised to see the carriage come out, for the coachmen had brought the silver carriage usually used by the Cardinal and Ariadne.
'Father, you are at home today, but Ariadne is not at home, so why didn't you take this carriage?'
Isabella frowned slightly at the unusual situation but quickly brushed it off. Well, it would be nice to ride in a nice carriage. It was a good thing. It was a chance to let Countess Bartolini know that she was not an outcast in the household.
Arriving at Count Bartolini’s house in the silver carriage of the de Mare family, Isabella was politely escorted to the drawing room by a servant. It was not the small drawing room of the lady, but the main drawing room used by the head of the household.
'Is it serious?'
She was beginning to doubt whether today's appointment to see the Countess was really the case.
'Or... Is Countess Bartolini in charge of all the household affairs? Did her husband collapse and she took over the household?'
In that case, it would have been possible for Countess Bartolini to meet another man—and it was really bad taste that she chose the Marquis of Campa as her partner. She would be lonely while her husband was sick, and it would be easy to have an affair without his knowledge. However, Isabella's expectations were wrong.
“Isn’t that the great Lady de Mare!”
An old man with white hair and a sly grin came rushing into the living room wearing a loose robe over his dressing gown.
“Count Bartolini.”
Count Bartolini was almost 40 years older than Countess Bartolini. After the death of his beloved first wife, he met Clemente de Contarini, the current Countess Bartolini.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?”
He was not lying in bed paralyzed, nor had he sensed his wife's infidelity and called Isabella to find out something. He was a pleasant, round old man who smiled kindly and offered Isabella a seat.
“Please sit down. My wife will be out soon.”
Isabella was a little embarrassed, but winning the favor of a man, whether he was a twelve-year-old boy or an old man as old as her father, was the easiest thing in the world for her. She gave him the most harmless-looking smile she could muster and followed his advice.
“Clemente doesn’t usually have visitors at his house, so she’s glad to have a visitor today.”
He continued kindly.
“Clemente hangs out with a lot of older ladies. I always feel sorry for her. I feel like she's lost the privilege of her youth by marrying an old man.”
Isabella bit her tongue, wanting to say, 'No, Master, she is enjoying the privileges of youth to the fullest.'
“I’m so grateful to have a girl her age hanging out with her.”
Isabella smiled with her eyes.
“Never mind. Sister Clemente is a truly exemplary lady. I have always respected and secretly followed her.”
Although she was a rising star in the world of adultery, she didn't spend money on lip service, and Isabella showered Clemente de Bartolini with praise, adding all the sweet nothings a good old husband would like.
"...Ah."
It was a shower of compliments that would have made the person involved blush. Clemente de Bartolini, who arrived late in the drawing room, stood there with a blush on her face, unable to say anything.
“Oh, dear. You’re coming down? I was just poking fun at your guest.”
Count Bartolini quickly got up from the sofa and sat his young wife down.
“Young people, you must have a lot to talk about. Talk quickly. I will leave my place for now.”
He really closed the drawing-room door and let the maid in. A hellish silence reigned in the drawing room, and the Countess's maid poured tea, placed a few tea foods on the table, and left. It was a sumptuous drawing room, with colorful tulips in Moorish porcelain vases and marble tables. Isabella broke the silence.
"And..."
Even on Isabella's face, there was a look of reproach.
'You're having an affair with a husband like that? Are you human?'
'Is it serious?'
She was beginning to doubt whether today's appointment to see the Countess was really the case.
'Or... Is Countess Bartolini in charge of all the household affairs? Did her husband collapse and she took over the household?'
In that case, it would have been possible for Countess Bartolini to meet another man—and it was really bad taste that she chose the Marquis of Campa as her partner. She would be lonely while her husband was sick, and it would be easy to have an affair without his knowledge. However, Isabella's expectations were wrong.
“Isn’t that the great Lady de Mare!”
An old man with white hair and a sly grin came rushing into the living room wearing a loose robe over his dressing gown.
“Count Bartolini.”
Count Bartolini was almost 40 years older than Countess Bartolini. After the death of his beloved first wife, he met Clemente de Contarini, the current Countess Bartolini.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?”
He was not lying in bed paralyzed, nor had he sensed his wife's infidelity and called Isabella to find out something. He was a pleasant, round old man who smiled kindly and offered Isabella a seat.
“Please sit down. My wife will be out soon.”
Isabella was a little embarrassed, but winning the favor of a man, whether he was a twelve-year-old boy or an old man as old as her father, was the easiest thing in the world for her. She gave him the most harmless-looking smile she could muster and followed his advice.
“Clemente doesn’t usually have visitors at his house, so she’s glad to have a visitor today.”
He continued kindly.
“Clemente hangs out with a lot of older ladies. I always feel sorry for her. I feel like she's lost the privilege of her youth by marrying an old man.”
Isabella bit her tongue, wanting to say, 'No, Master, she is enjoying the privileges of youth to the fullest.'
“I’m so grateful to have a girl her age hanging out with her.”
Isabella smiled with her eyes.
“Never mind. Sister Clemente is a truly exemplary lady. I have always respected and secretly followed her.”
Although she was a rising star in the world of adultery, she didn't spend money on lip service, and Isabella showered Clemente de Bartolini with praise, adding all the sweet nothings a good old husband would like.
"...Ah."
It was a shower of compliments that would have made the person involved blush. Clemente de Bartolini, who arrived late in the drawing room, stood there with a blush on her face, unable to say anything.
“Oh, dear. You’re coming down? I was just poking fun at your guest.”
Count Bartolini quickly got up from the sofa and sat his young wife down.
“Young people, you must have a lot to talk about. Talk quickly. I will leave my place for now.”
He really closed the drawing-room door and let the maid in. A hellish silence reigned in the drawing room, and the Countess's maid poured tea, placed a few tea foods on the table, and left. It was a sumptuous drawing room, with colorful tulips in Moorish porcelain vases and marble tables. Isabella broke the silence.
"And..."
Even on Isabella's face, there was a look of reproach.
'You're having an affair with a husband like that? Are you human?'
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