Count Cesare questioned the palace servant.
“What on earth could possibly be happening that would lead to my mother being sent to the dungeon?”
Countess Rubina had been Leo III’s most beloved woman for nearly 30 years. There were few such long-term ruling governments in history. This meant that their relationship was quite stable and close and that Countess Rubina would not be imprisoned for something trivial.
“That is...”
Countess Rubina’s servant managed to convey the news, flustered.
“She was taken to the dungeon for investigation on charges of attempting to poison Her Majesty Queen Marguerite...”
“Poisoning the Queen?!”
Cesare nodded despite his bewilderment. Poisoning the Queen was something he had never imagined, but it seemed like something his mother would have done more than enough.
“You should be King!”
If Countess Rubina’s absurd obsession was put into action, such a thing would have been possible.
‘Seriously, ask before you do it!’
If she had, Cesare would have grabbed his mother’s skirt and hung on to her so she wouldn’t do it.
‘Why would you do something like that when you’re full and your back is warm!’
The western tower was part of the palace and under the direct jurisdiction of Queen Margaret, but the person in charge of the Etruscan kingdom’s judicial institutions, including the dungeons, happened to be Ottavio’s father, Count Contarini. The dungeons were within Cesare’s reach.
“Send someone to bring Ottavio right now.”
“You mean Count Ottavio de Contarini?”
“Yes! Tell him to come running to me with his feet on fire!”
Cesare set down the sparkling wine he was about to drink anywhere on the terrace, called his attendant, and put on his cloak. He was certain that Ottavio de Contarini would come running at the speed of light.
“I’m going to see my mother.”
Cesare, who had used Ottavio as a human key and had pushed past three dungeon guards who had refused to let him enter the dungeons, grimaced at the musty smell that hit his nose.
CLANG!
Behind Count Cesare, the iron door closed, and inside was a prison with iron bars dividing the interior and the corridor. It was a solitary cell separated from the other prisoners by a stone wall instead of iron bars. It seemed that they had given Countess Rubina a solitary cell considering her status.
“Who?”
Countess Rubina, who had her eyes closed, asked, and Cesare answered.
“It’s me, mother.”
At that voice, Countess Rubina’s eyes opened brightly, she got up and hung on the iron bars.
“Cesare!”
Count Cesare stared blankly at his mother. Countess Rubina was relatively neat compared to the other prisoners, perhaps because she had just entered the prison.
Cesare clicked his tongue and said,
“Mother, why on earth did you do that?”
Countess Rubina shouted in a tearful voice.
“You don’t trust me either! I didn’t do that!”
Cesare replied annoyed.
“Are you lying to me too? I have to know the situation to help or not!”
“It’s really not me!”
Countess Rubina got angry. Cesare asked his mother.
“Mother, what about that arsenic bottle? They said that an arsenic bottle was found in the room.”
“...”
“Don’t try to hide it from me. I know that fortune teller was cheating on you.”
It was the gypsy fortune teller that Ariadne had sent away to the Moorish Empire. Countess Rubina took a deep breath when her son said that he knew that much.
“...Yes, it’s true that I had the real arsenic, not Salvarsan.”
Countess Rubina answered in a slightly depressed voice. It wasn’t like her.
“It’s also true that the gypsy fortune teller kept telling me to wait for the right time and do it. You don’t know what happened.”
However, she couldn’t hide her resentment and burst into anger.
“But the gypsy fortune teller lost contact during the winter! I came back to San Carlo from Taranto and found she nowhere to be found! What an ungrateful woman!”
“So, did Mother poison the Queen just because you believed the fortune teller who ran away?”
“No! You think your mother is such a fool!”
Countess Rubina continued grumbling.
“It’s true that I got the arsenic a long time ago. I had it. But really, I swear to God, I wasn’t the one who put the poison in this time!”
Cesare looked down at his mother with an indifferent expression.
“Yes. Let’s say my mother didn’t do it.”
It didn’t seem like he believed his mother’s innocence that much.
“So, do you think His Majesty Leo III will be convinced by your story?”
“...!”
Countess Rubina clung to Leo III in front of everyone at the banquet hall but was miserably thrown out.
“Mother, you said you brought up the Salvarsan story in front of everyone?”
“That is...!”
Countess Rubina’s face turned bright red. She had brought it up in a hurry. By now, the rumor that the King was a syphilitic patient would have spread throughout San Carlo.
“His Majesty must have been furious that my mother had mentioned it. That is probably why you came here instead of the West Tower. What is the difference between the story of Salvarsan and the story that spread throughout the world that ‘His Majesty the King has the disease of Montpellier’?”
“But if you insist that you did nothing wrong now, will that even register with my father?”
Cesare was incredibly curious about Leo III’s mood. It was partly because his son resembled his father, and partly because growing up as an illegitimate child meant being cautious. From Cesare’s perspective, there was no way to appease Leo III, whose pride had been hurt.
“What on earth could possibly be happening that would lead to my mother being sent to the dungeon?”
Countess Rubina had been Leo III’s most beloved woman for nearly 30 years. There were few such long-term ruling governments in history. This meant that their relationship was quite stable and close and that Countess Rubina would not be imprisoned for something trivial.
“That is...”
Countess Rubina’s servant managed to convey the news, flustered.
“She was taken to the dungeon for investigation on charges of attempting to poison Her Majesty Queen Marguerite...”
“Poisoning the Queen?!”
Cesare nodded despite his bewilderment. Poisoning the Queen was something he had never imagined, but it seemed like something his mother would have done more than enough.
“You should be King!”
If Countess Rubina’s absurd obsession was put into action, such a thing would have been possible.
‘Seriously, ask before you do it!’
If she had, Cesare would have grabbed his mother’s skirt and hung on to her so she wouldn’t do it.
‘Why would you do something like that when you’re full and your back is warm!’
If she had offered him the throne, he would have accepted it without hesitation, but it was never something he should have attempted by going to such extremes. The timing was wrong, and the method was wrong. If she wanted to make Cesare King, she should have poisoned Alfonso, why bother with Queen Marguerite?
What he had doubts about was something else.
“But, not the West Tower, but the dungeon?”
“Yes...”
This meant that Leo III was really, very, very angry. However, every cloud has its bright side, and the dungeon wasn’t all bad.
“Let’s go. This is perfect timing.”
“Yes? The Countess’s imprisonment?”
“How could that be!"
What he had doubts about was something else.
“But, not the West Tower, but the dungeon?”
“Yes...”
This meant that Leo III was really, very, very angry. However, every cloud has its bright side, and the dungeon wasn’t all bad.
“Let’s go. This is perfect timing.”
“Yes? The Countess’s imprisonment?”
“How could that be!"
The western tower was part of the palace and under the direct jurisdiction of Queen Margaret, but the person in charge of the Etruscan kingdom’s judicial institutions, including the dungeons, happened to be Ottavio’s father, Count Contarini. The dungeons were within Cesare’s reach.
“Send someone to bring Ottavio right now.”
“You mean Count Ottavio de Contarini?”
“Yes! Tell him to come running to me with his feet on fire!”
Cesare set down the sparkling wine he was about to drink anywhere on the terrace, called his attendant, and put on his cloak. He was certain that Ottavio de Contarini would come running at the speed of light.
“I’m going to see my mother.”
***
Cesare, who had used Ottavio as a human key and had pushed past three dungeon guards who had refused to let him enter the dungeons, grimaced at the musty smell that hit his nose.
CLANG!
Behind Count Cesare, the iron door closed, and inside was a prison with iron bars dividing the interior and the corridor. It was a solitary cell separated from the other prisoners by a stone wall instead of iron bars. It seemed that they had given Countess Rubina a solitary cell considering her status.
“Who?”
Countess Rubina, who had her eyes closed, asked, and Cesare answered.
“It’s me, mother.”
At that voice, Countess Rubina’s eyes opened brightly, she got up and hung on the iron bars.
“Cesare!”
Count Cesare stared blankly at his mother. Countess Rubina was relatively neat compared to the other prisoners, perhaps because she had just entered the prison.
Cesare clicked his tongue and said,
“Mother, why on earth did you do that?”
Countess Rubina shouted in a tearful voice.
“You don’t trust me either! I didn’t do that!”
Cesare replied annoyed.
“Are you lying to me too? I have to know the situation to help or not!”
“It’s really not me!”
Countess Rubina got angry. Cesare asked his mother.
“Mother, what about that arsenic bottle? They said that an arsenic bottle was found in the room.”
“...”
“Don’t try to hide it from me. I know that fortune teller was cheating on you.”
It was the gypsy fortune teller that Ariadne had sent away to the Moorish Empire. Countess Rubina took a deep breath when her son said that he knew that much.
“...Yes, it’s true that I had the real arsenic, not Salvarsan.”
Countess Rubina answered in a slightly depressed voice. It wasn’t like her.
“It’s also true that the gypsy fortune teller kept telling me to wait for the right time and do it. You don’t know what happened.”
However, she couldn’t hide her resentment and burst into anger.
“But the gypsy fortune teller lost contact during the winter! I came back to San Carlo from Taranto and found she nowhere to be found! What an ungrateful woman!”
“So, did Mother poison the Queen just because you believed the fortune teller who ran away?”
“No! You think your mother is such a fool!”
Countess Rubina continued grumbling.
“It’s true that I got the arsenic a long time ago. I had it. But really, I swear to God, I wasn’t the one who put the poison in this time!”
Cesare looked down at his mother with an indifferent expression.
“Yes. Let’s say my mother didn’t do it.”
It didn’t seem like he believed his mother’s innocence that much.
“So, do you think His Majesty Leo III will be convinced by your story?”
“...!”
Countess Rubina clung to Leo III in front of everyone at the banquet hall but was miserably thrown out.
“Mother, you said you brought up the Salvarsan story in front of everyone?”
“That is...!”
Countess Rubina’s face turned bright red. She had brought it up in a hurry. By now, the rumor that the King was a syphilitic patient would have spread throughout San Carlo.
“His Majesty must have been furious that my mother had mentioned it. That is probably why you came here instead of the West Tower. What is the difference between the story of Salvarsan and the story that spread throughout the world that ‘His Majesty the King has the disease of Montpellier’?”
A corrupt, depraved scum who would receive divine punishment. A short-lived, imperfect leper.
That was how the people of San Carlo viewed syphilis. It was a disease that could not possibly be accepted by a monarch who was supposed to be moral and strong. Leo III, as King of the Etruscan kingdom, which had long been the stronghold of the Jesuits, also had the duty of being a faithful Jesuit monarch.
“It would have been better to admit that you had done it out of jealousy and ask for forgiveness.”
“Cesare, you little punk...!”
Countess Rubina was furious, but Cesare remained calm.
“I’m talking about reality.”
“You ungrateful brat!”
Cesare was irritated.
“What my mother says is right, even if it’s true.”
That was how the people of San Carlo viewed syphilis. It was a disease that could not possibly be accepted by a monarch who was supposed to be moral and strong. Leo III, as King of the Etruscan kingdom, which had long been the stronghold of the Jesuits, also had the duty of being a faithful Jesuit monarch.
“It would have been better to admit that you had done it out of jealousy and ask for forgiveness.”
“Cesare, you little punk...!”
Countess Rubina was furious, but Cesare remained calm.
“I’m talking about reality.”
“You ungrateful brat!”
Cesare was irritated.
“What my mother says is right, even if it’s true.”
He didn't believe her as much.
“But if you insist that you did nothing wrong now, will that even register with my father?”
Cesare was incredibly curious about Leo III’s mood. It was partly because his son resembled his father, and partly because growing up as an illegitimate child meant being cautious. From Cesare’s perspective, there was no way to appease Leo III, whose pride had been hurt.
“I’m not going to be happy either.”
“Anyway, don’t talk nonsense and stay here.”
“What?”
Countess Rubina, who thought that her son would come up with some useful plan or at least comfort her, trembled with betrayal. But Cesare was not an ungrateful son like the de Mare siblings under Lucrezia.
“I’ll figure out a way. Don’t make excuses to offend His Majesty the King, and don’t start any strange investigations. Just keep your mouth shut and be quiet.”
Count Cesare immediately turned around and tried to leave the prison.
“Cesare!”
“If you need anything, tell the guards. Then they’ll tell me. Count Contarini is in charge, so he won’t bother you too much. If he does, just bear with it.”
“You little brat!”
“I’ll be back, so stay quiet.”
The son walked out of the prison with a thud.
Boom!
The thick iron door closed.
Since the attempted poisoning of the Queen, the palace was kept under tight security. Only members of the palace were allowed to enter the palace, and no one from the main palace was allowed to come near it. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that they might be the Countess Rubina’s lackey.
In addition to the knights in blue surcoats who usually guarded the Queen, the knights of the King’s Guard in red surcoats patrolled exactly on time. The atmosphere was tense.
Madame Carla was reading the Meditations with a bad expression in the chief maid’s lounge connected to the Queen’s inner chamber. Queen Marguerite was having breakfast in the inner chamber, so she needed something to kill time while waiting to be called.
It seemed that she was not concentrating at all, as it took her more than ten minutes to turn one page.
Knock knock.
“Madame Carla, someone is requesting an interview.”
“Anyway, don’t talk nonsense and stay here.”
“What?”
Countess Rubina, who thought that her son would come up with some useful plan or at least comfort her, trembled with betrayal. But Cesare was not an ungrateful son like the de Mare siblings under Lucrezia.
“I’ll figure out a way. Don’t make excuses to offend His Majesty the King, and don’t start any strange investigations. Just keep your mouth shut and be quiet.”
Count Cesare immediately turned around and tried to leave the prison.
“Cesare!”
“If you need anything, tell the guards. Then they’ll tell me. Count Contarini is in charge, so he won’t bother you too much. If he does, just bear with it.”
“You little brat!”
“I’ll be back, so stay quiet.”
The son walked out of the prison with a thud.
Boom!
The thick iron door closed.
***
Since the attempted poisoning of the Queen, the palace was kept under tight security. Only members of the palace were allowed to enter the palace, and no one from the main palace was allowed to come near it. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that they might be the Countess Rubina’s lackey.
In addition to the knights in blue surcoats who usually guarded the Queen, the knights of the King’s Guard in red surcoats patrolled exactly on time. The atmosphere was tense.
Madame Carla was reading the Meditations with a bad expression in the chief maid’s lounge connected to the Queen’s inner chamber. Queen Marguerite was having breakfast in the inner chamber, so she needed something to kill time while waiting to be called.
It seemed that she was not concentrating at all, as it took her more than ten minutes to turn one page.
Knock knock.
“Madame Carla, someone is requesting an interview.”
The servant’s voice rang out from outside. Madame Carla closed the Meditations and asked.
“A guest? What kind of guest is this in these times?”
“A guest? What kind of guest is this in these times?”
“Mr. Strozzi, the spice supplier.”
Madame Carla’s eyebrows rose.
“What is that gentleman doing in the palace!”
“It’s the regular payment date, but you requested an interview because there seemed to be an error in the payment from the palace. He seemed to be in a hurry... It was always the right time to come...”
Madame Carla’s eyebrows rose.
“What is that gentleman doing in the palace!”
“It’s the regular payment date, but you requested an interview because there seemed to be an error in the payment from the palace. He seemed to be in a hurry... It was always the right time to come...”
He was a man who absolutely should not have appeared here. However, he also had something to say.
‘How dare you show up here!’
She was about to harshly scold the servant and kick Mr. Strozzi out, but then changed her mind and said quietly through clenched teeth,
“Tell him to come to the audience room.”
Madame Carla moved to the business office located across the hall from the chief maid’s lounge. It was a practical room with a desk and various ledgers. It should not have been located near the Queen’s inner chambers, but it was a small storage room that had been remodeled with Queen Marguerite’s permission.
As soon as Madame Carla sat down in her chair, a middle-aged man of medium height entered the office. As soon as she confirmed that he had closed the door, Madame Carla raised her voice.
“This is not what we promised!”
She lashed out in Gallic, but Mr. Strozzi, an Etruscan, answered in his equally fluent Gallic.
“Wow, whoa. Lady Dieudonne. You’ve lost your family name, and now you’ve lost the nobility of your bloodline. Keep your dignity.”
Dieudonne was the family name that Madame Carla’s original family had used before they were implicated in treason and stripped of their nobility. Madame Carla couldn’t hide her anger as she snapped.
“How on earth did you get in here!”
“You didn’t arrange this position for me. I’m a trustworthy spice merchant who has been dealing with the royal family for a long time. The more tense the times are, the more I should get my pepper from a trustworthy dealer who has never caused an accident.”
He replied with a chuckle, and Madame Carla felt an impulse to kill Mr. Strozzi.
“You trustworthy, you swindler! Is this how you repay a favor?!”
She denounced the man sitting in front of her with a face that was blue with anger.
“What did you say to me? You clearly said that it was just vinegar and that it would not harm the Queen, so if you wanted to get rid of Countess Rubina, put it on the dinner table where Her Majesty the Queen and the Countess were meeting!”
The man answered, not at all flustered, picking his ear.
“You got what you wanted, right? Poor Countess Rubina is rotting in the dungeon right now. What on earth are you complaining about?”
‘How dare you show up here!’
She was about to harshly scold the servant and kick Mr. Strozzi out, but then changed her mind and said quietly through clenched teeth,
“Tell him to come to the audience room.”
Madame Carla moved to the business office located across the hall from the chief maid’s lounge. It was a practical room with a desk and various ledgers. It should not have been located near the Queen’s inner chambers, but it was a small storage room that had been remodeled with Queen Marguerite’s permission.
As soon as Madame Carla sat down in her chair, a middle-aged man of medium height entered the office. As soon as she confirmed that he had closed the door, Madame Carla raised her voice.
“This is not what we promised!”
She lashed out in Gallic, but Mr. Strozzi, an Etruscan, answered in his equally fluent Gallic.
“Wow, whoa. Lady Dieudonne. You’ve lost your family name, and now you’ve lost the nobility of your bloodline. Keep your dignity.”
Dieudonne was the family name that Madame Carla’s original family had used before they were implicated in treason and stripped of their nobility. Madame Carla couldn’t hide her anger as she snapped.
“How on earth did you get in here!”
“You didn’t arrange this position for me. I’m a trustworthy spice merchant who has been dealing with the royal family for a long time. The more tense the times are, the more I should get my pepper from a trustworthy dealer who has never caused an accident.”
He replied with a chuckle, and Madame Carla felt an impulse to kill Mr. Strozzi.
“You trustworthy, you swindler! Is this how you repay a favor?!”
She denounced the man sitting in front of her with a face that was blue with anger.
“What did you say to me? You clearly said that it was just vinegar and that it would not harm the Queen, so if you wanted to get rid of Countess Rubina, put it on the dinner table where Her Majesty the Queen and the Countess were meeting!”
The man answered, not at all flustered, picking his ear.
“You got what you wanted, right? Poor Countess Rubina is rotting in the dungeon right now. What on earth are you complaining about?”
Although he didn’t say anything to Madame Carla, Mr. Strozzi, and his men were faithful even in the after-sales service. They brought in Countess Rubina’s maid to provide decisive testimony and drive the wedge in. However, Madame Carla jumped up.
“Rubina’s dog licked it and died on the spot, blood gushing from his chin! I almost killed Her Majesty the Queen with my own hands!”
“...Where in the world can you get what you want? There is no such thing as the perfect temperature for soup, it’s either too hot or too cold.”
“What, what?”
Madame Carla, who had expected to hear at least an explanation like ‘there was a misunderstanding’ or ‘it wasn’t what we intended’, stuttered in embarrassment at the unexpectedly confident response.
‘Mr. Strozzi’ smiled bitterly and leaned forward.
“Hey.”
“Rubina’s dog licked it and died on the spot, blood gushing from his chin! I almost killed Her Majesty the Queen with my own hands!”
“...Where in the world can you get what you want? There is no such thing as the perfect temperature for soup, it’s either too hot or too cold.”
“What, what?”
Madame Carla, who had expected to hear at least an explanation like ‘there was a misunderstanding’ or ‘it wasn’t what we intended’, stuttered in embarrassment at the unexpectedly confident response.
‘Mr. Strozzi’ smiled bitterly and leaned forward.
“Hey.”
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