Ariadne came down to the drawing room with a pale face.
Despite the fireplace burning inside, she had a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders and was wearing thick leather gloves on both hands.
Cesare jumped up from his seat and greeted Ariadne as she quietly entered the drawing room.
“Miss! What’s wrong with your face! Where does it hurt?”
He strode over to her, took Ariadne's hand, and led her to the living room sofa.
It was so natural that it was hard to tell who was the host and who was the guest.
She flinched for a moment at Cesare's outstretched hand, but soon held out her gloved left hand and followed his guidance.
She spoke weakly, sitting on the sofa.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.”
He answered right away.
A look of concern sparkled in his chiseled, handsome face.
Ariadne could picture the face with her eyes closed, and the voice she could remember without hearing it, but she never remembered an expression or tone that was this immersive.
Ariadne tried to break the awkward atmosphere by making a silly joke, trying to recall if Cesare had been that kind of man.
“I hope it’s not the Black Death.”
"This."
Cesare smiled, revealing his neat teeth.
“Then I’ll be caught too.”
The two were alone in a closed reception room. They weren't wearing any special protective gear. She answered with a snicker.
“Unfortunately, that is what will happen.”
“Then are you going to let us quarantine together?”
He looked around the living room with a single smile.
“The house looks magnificent, so it would be perfect for a ten-day stay. If possible, I would like to share a room with the young lady. I would get bored if I were locked up alone.”
Ariadne answered with her eyes wide open.
“Aren’t you coming home?”
“Live up to your reputation, Lady de Mare, and do your best for your country and people. If I were to return home now, I would be spreading the Black Death on the road, and what’s more, wouldn’t the poor Duke Pisano’s family also be exposed to the disease?”
He shook his head.
“If you listen to the rumors, Lady Ariadne de Mare is like an angel descended from heaven, and you have such great compassion that you feed all the people in the relief center.”
“You should sleep at home.”
“The real thing has no blood or tears.”
He opened his eyes and looked at Ariadne.
“Of all rumors, only one is true.”
“What?”
“Your wisdom is so great that it pierces the sky.”
He looked at her for a long time.
"...Thank you.”
Ariadne flinched at the words she had never heard from Cesare before and pushed her hair behind her ear.
Did I mishear?
Despite the fireplace burning inside, she had a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders and was wearing thick leather gloves on both hands.
Cesare jumped up from his seat and greeted Ariadne as she quietly entered the drawing room.
“Miss! What’s wrong with your face! Where does it hurt?”
He strode over to her, took Ariadne's hand, and led her to the living room sofa.
It was so natural that it was hard to tell who was the host and who was the guest.
She flinched for a moment at Cesare's outstretched hand, but soon held out her gloved left hand and followed his guidance.
She spoke weakly, sitting on the sofa.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.”
He answered right away.
“It's not that bad. I've never seen you this groggy before.”
Ariadne could picture the face with her eyes closed, and the voice she could remember without hearing it, but she never remembered an expression or tone that was this immersive.
Ariadne tried to break the awkward atmosphere by making a silly joke, trying to recall if Cesare had been that kind of man.
“I hope it’s not the Black Death.”
"This."
Cesare smiled, revealing his neat teeth.
“Then I’ll be caught too.”
The two were alone in a closed reception room. They weren't wearing any special protective gear. She answered with a snicker.
“Unfortunately, that is what will happen.”
“Then are you going to let us quarantine together?”
He looked around the living room with a single smile.
“The house looks magnificent, so it would be perfect for a ten-day stay. If possible, I would like to share a room with the young lady. I would get bored if I were locked up alone.”
Ariadne answered with her eyes wide open.
“Aren’t you coming home?”
“Live up to your reputation, Lady de Mare, and do your best for your country and people. If I were to return home now, I would be spreading the Black Death on the road, and what’s more, wouldn’t the poor Duke Pisano’s family also be exposed to the disease?”
He shook his head.
“If you listen to the rumors, Lady Ariadne de Mare is like an angel descended from heaven, and you have such great compassion that you feed all the people in the relief center.”
“You should sleep at home.”
“The real thing has no blood or tears.”
He opened his eyes and looked at Ariadne.
“Of all rumors, only one is true.”
“What?”
“Your wisdom is so great that it pierces the sky.”
He looked at her for a long time.
"...Thank you.”
Ariadne flinched at the words she had never heard from Cesare before and pushed her hair behind her ear.
Did I mishear?
It was her effort to clear away any obstacles so she could hear better.
Cesare continued, completely unaware that Ariadne was doubting her ears.
“Thanks to you, I was able to avoid a difficult situation.”
He looked out the window of the de Mare mansion. Out the window, far in the distance, he could see the western spire of the Palazzo Carlo.
“A defeated commander-in-chief. He was forced to wear a hat he didn’t need, and it was a hat that didn’t suit him.”
He thought that until this matter was resolved properly, he might be held responsible for the defeat and imprisoned in the West Spire.
“I was defeated miserably after showing my bottom. After a defeat, you need a scapegoat.”
Ariadne followed Cesare's gaze and realized what he was thinking.
“No way.”
She said sarcastically.
“It probably didn’t work out the way you had planned. You have been recognized as having blue blood flowing through your veins, even if it was through a collateral line. Do you think you’ll be locked up in the West Tower after one defeat?”
Ariadne swallowed hard the words, “That’s a place only people like me with no backing go to.”
Cesare in front of her doesn't know that she had entered the west spire.
Ariadne then observed herself constantly losing her composure when dealing with Cesare.
She was sure she had absolutely no affection left for Cesare. All that was left was anger and resentment. Anger, that's why she's going to walk.
Cesare smiled and shook his head, not knowing her speed.
“You overestimate my dear father.”
Rubina, the King's concubine who had been by his side for over 20 years, was imprisoned in an underground prison, not even in the West Tower, as soon as she was suspected of having harmed Queen Marguerite.
However, it is not true that Leo III truly cared for Queen Margaret.
The King had the opportunity to investigate the Queen's death, but he closed his eyes for political reasons and fear for the Gallico kingdom.
Cesare continued, completely unaware that Ariadne was doubting her ears.
“Thanks to you, I was able to avoid a difficult situation.”
He looked out the window of the de Mare mansion. Out the window, far in the distance, he could see the western spire of the Palazzo Carlo.
“A defeated commander-in-chief. He was forced to wear a hat he didn’t need, and it was a hat that didn’t suit him.”
He thought that until this matter was resolved properly, he might be held responsible for the defeat and imprisoned in the West Spire.
“I was defeated miserably after showing my bottom. After a defeat, you need a scapegoat.”
Ariadne followed Cesare's gaze and realized what he was thinking.
“No way.”
She said sarcastically.
“It probably didn’t work out the way you had planned. You have been recognized as having blue blood flowing through your veins, even if it was through a collateral line. Do you think you’ll be locked up in the West Tower after one defeat?”
Ariadne swallowed hard the words, “That’s a place only people like me with no backing go to.”
Cesare in front of her doesn't know that she had entered the west spire.
Ariadne then observed herself constantly losing her composure when dealing with Cesare.
She was sure she had absolutely no affection left for Cesare. All that was left was anger and resentment. Anger, that's why she's going to walk.
Cesare smiled and shook his head, not knowing her speed.
“You overestimate my dear father.”
Rubina, the King's concubine who had been by his side for over 20 years, was imprisoned in an underground prison, not even in the West Tower, as soon as she was suspected of having harmed Queen Marguerite.
However, it is not true that Leo III truly cared for Queen Margaret.
The King had the opportunity to investigate the Queen's death, but he closed his eyes for political reasons and fear for the Gallico kingdom.
He didn't seem to have any intention of revenge. The identity of the person behind her murder remains a mystery.
“I am not the eldest son of the King, and even if I were, do you really think that when a sacrificial lamb is needed to be hung on the wall in place of the King to take responsibility for the defeat, I would be left off the list of candidates? Seriously?”
“I don’t think you’ll take it out though.”
Ariadne answered with a smile.
“Hanging the ball on the wall is a great gesture of respect for His Majesty the King, so he will save it for the very last moment.”
After hanging Cesare, the only offering left would be to the King himself. This was not to say that Leo III would show kindness to his own blood relatives.
It meant that they wouldn't execute Cesare for something like this. They would use it when the stakes were higher.
“...After hearing what the young lady said, that is true too.”
Cesare looked at Ariadne as if in a trance.
“It’s so weird.”
“What is it?”
“Did you put drugs in the tea?”
Cesare lifted the teacup from the tea table and looked inside, making a sound like a fool.
Of course, there was nothing inside except tea.
“I’m not a person who trusts what other people say.”
Ariadne nodded. Cesare may be a bit gullible, but he trusts others no differently. She gets that.
“But when I listen to what you say, I just accept it. Without asking questions or questioning anything. Why on earth is this happening?”
Ariadne laughed in disbelief.
“I may just be saying the right thing.”
“That’s true too.”
Seeing Cesare nodding his head so obediently, Ariadne thought something was funny.
“There was no one in the sick, and it seems like it’s not me who’s sick, but Prince Cesare.”
“Huh? Why me?”
“They say that when people are about to die, they start doing things they normally wouldn’t do.”
“Then you’ll let me sleep at home?”
“Why does the story flow like that?”
“If I had the Black Death, you would have gotten the Black Death too. If we isolate patients in a friendly manner, wouldn’t it save resources, reduce labor, and be good for all sorts of things?”
Cesare smiled and took off the cloak he was wearing.
“Isn’t it hot in the room? The firewood is burning really well.”
Ariadne was still wearing her thick shawl and gloves.
“Are you still feeling unwell? Your complexion is a little better than when you first came into this room.”
Cesare was studying Ariadne's face and expression in detail. In fact, it was the first time he had done so.
He had never taken care of his fiancée like this in his past life.
When Ariadne came to the ball beautifully dressed, he would congratulate her, when she seemed to dance less well than the other ladies, he would be displeased, when she was sick and could not make it to the ball, he would be annoyed, and when she did something well and he would receive the praise instead, he would be happy.
It was extremely rare for him to show any interest in her. No, never.
Could it have been seen by Isabella? Ariadne thought it was probably not that either. Cesare wasn't born that way.
“I feel a little better now. It’s still hot in the room.”
He crossed the tea table and stood next to Ariadne.
“If you give me the shawl, I’ll hang it over there.”
Cesare's attitude was strange. Ariadne couldn't stand it anymore and said something.
“What happened to Prince Cesare? I don’t think you were that kind of person.”
He smiled cheerfully with his handsome face.
“You’re really strange, Miss. We’ve never really been friends before, and yet you know so much about me. You don’t just pick out the Cesare de Carlo section from the Gazette of San Carlo, do you?”
Ariadne chattered vaguely.
“Because social gossip travels fast.”
“Don’t trust what people say. People always say off-topic things.”
He looked at Ariadne thoughtfully. His water-colored eyes peered at her from beneath his long eyelashes.
There was a time when Ariadne so desperately wanted to receive the undivided attention of these eyes.
If only I could monopolize that gaze, I wouldn't want anything more in life. Really? Right now?
“People say that you are the reincarnation of an angel who fell from the sky. How absurd!”
Cesare reached out and gently stroked Ariadne's chin.
“You have a knife in your tongue, and your personality is poisonous. You never lose a word, and you are not an angel, but an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and you never see harm.”
Aqua eyes and green eyes met.
Even though he was spewing accusations with his mouth, his water-colored eyes were very gentle, looking at her eyes, nose, and mouth, each and every one of them, with affectionate gazes.
“But when you open your mouth, you only speak the truth, and all you wish for is within the bounds of common sense. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth apply to you as well. You make no unreasonable demands and do not take unfair advantage. Surprisingly, you always give to others. You is all talk, all fool.”
He slowly tilted his head to the side.
The distance was still far apart, but the baseline where the noses met had shifted to the side, and instead, the baseline of the lips met.
“You know what’s funny? It’s all secondary. I don’t know why, but right now all I see is you.”
Ariadne turned her head to the side. Her cheek was flushed.
“It’s hot.”
He thought that he shouldn't stay in his angle. Cesare didn't insist on that state either and just straightened his head.
“Hot? Hand me a shawl.”
Instead of taking off the wool shawl she was wearing, she simply held it out to him by the shoulder. Cesare took it off his own. It was a skillful move.
After taking it off, the skin on her collarbone where the shawl had touched was red and swollen.
There was no way of knowing whether it was because the sweat was forming on the wool and rubbing against it in the room, which had become hot from the burning wood, or because she was used to the atmosphere.
"This."
Cesare took Ariadne's shawl, hung it on the armrest of the wing chair, and took out a handkerchief.
He placed a new handkerchief against the nape of her neck. It was covered in beads of sweat.
“It turned red.”
Ariadne glanced down at Cesare's handkerchief. My handkerchief then. I need to get it back.
And she thought about Cesare, who had cried like a child that day. Was Cesare sincere that day? Has there been something that has changed in this person?
He spoke softly as if he were soothing a child.
“It’s not good to be wrapped up too tightly when it’s hot. I realized this when I was hunting, but if your body temperature rises too much, it can make you sick.”
He held out his hand.
“You’re not even taking off your gloves?”
It was against San Carlo etiquette to wear gloves indoors, even in non-formal settings such as balls.
But things like etiquette were secondary.
He wanted Ariadne to be comfortable when she was with him.
“I am not the eldest son of the King, and even if I were, do you really think that when a sacrificial lamb is needed to be hung on the wall in place of the King to take responsibility for the defeat, I would be left off the list of candidates? Seriously?”
“I don’t think you’ll take it out though.”
Ariadne answered with a smile.
“Hanging the ball on the wall is a great gesture of respect for His Majesty the King, so he will save it for the very last moment.”
After hanging Cesare, the only offering left would be to the King himself. This was not to say that Leo III would show kindness to his own blood relatives.
It meant that they wouldn't execute Cesare for something like this. They would use it when the stakes were higher.
“...After hearing what the young lady said, that is true too.”
Cesare looked at Ariadne as if in a trance.
“It’s so weird.”
“What is it?”
“Did you put drugs in the tea?”
Cesare lifted the teacup from the tea table and looked inside, making a sound like a fool.
Of course, there was nothing inside except tea.
“I’m not a person who trusts what other people say.”
Ariadne nodded. Cesare may be a bit gullible, but he trusts others no differently. She gets that.
“But when I listen to what you say, I just accept it. Without asking questions or questioning anything. Why on earth is this happening?”
Ariadne laughed in disbelief.
“I may just be saying the right thing.”
“That’s true too.”
Seeing Cesare nodding his head so obediently, Ariadne thought something was funny.
“There was no one in the sick, and it seems like it’s not me who’s sick, but Prince Cesare.”
“Huh? Why me?”
“They say that when people are about to die, they start doing things they normally wouldn’t do.”
“Then you’ll let me sleep at home?”
“Why does the story flow like that?”
“If I had the Black Death, you would have gotten the Black Death too. If we isolate patients in a friendly manner, wouldn’t it save resources, reduce labor, and be good for all sorts of things?”
Cesare smiled and took off the cloak he was wearing.
“Isn’t it hot in the room? The firewood is burning really well.”
Ariadne was still wearing her thick shawl and gloves.
“Are you still feeling unwell? Your complexion is a little better than when you first came into this room.”
Cesare was studying Ariadne's face and expression in detail. In fact, it was the first time he had done so.
He had never taken care of his fiancée like this in his past life.
When Ariadne came to the ball beautifully dressed, he would congratulate her, when she seemed to dance less well than the other ladies, he would be displeased, when she was sick and could not make it to the ball, he would be annoyed, and when she did something well and he would receive the praise instead, he would be happy.
It was extremely rare for him to show any interest in her. No, never.
Could it have been seen by Isabella? Ariadne thought it was probably not that either. Cesare wasn't born that way.
“I feel a little better now. It’s still hot in the room.”
He crossed the tea table and stood next to Ariadne.
“If you give me the shawl, I’ll hang it over there.”
Cesare's attitude was strange. Ariadne couldn't stand it anymore and said something.
“What happened to Prince Cesare? I don’t think you were that kind of person.”
He smiled cheerfully with his handsome face.
“You’re really strange, Miss. We’ve never really been friends before, and yet you know so much about me. You don’t just pick out the Cesare de Carlo section from the Gazette of San Carlo, do you?”
Ariadne chattered vaguely.
“Because social gossip travels fast.”
“Don’t trust what people say. People always say off-topic things.”
He looked at Ariadne thoughtfully. His water-colored eyes peered at her from beneath his long eyelashes.
There was a time when Ariadne so desperately wanted to receive the undivided attention of these eyes.
If only I could monopolize that gaze, I wouldn't want anything more in life. Really? Right now?
“People say that you are the reincarnation of an angel who fell from the sky. How absurd!”
Cesare reached out and gently stroked Ariadne's chin.
“You have a knife in your tongue, and your personality is poisonous. You never lose a word, and you are not an angel, but an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and you never see harm.”
Aqua eyes and green eyes met.
Even though he was spewing accusations with his mouth, his water-colored eyes were very gentle, looking at her eyes, nose, and mouth, each and every one of them, with affectionate gazes.
“But when you open your mouth, you only speak the truth, and all you wish for is within the bounds of common sense. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth apply to you as well. You make no unreasonable demands and do not take unfair advantage. Surprisingly, you always give to others. You is all talk, all fool.”
He slowly tilted his head to the side.
The distance was still far apart, but the baseline where the noses met had shifted to the side, and instead, the baseline of the lips met.
“You know what’s funny? It’s all secondary. I don’t know why, but right now all I see is you.”
Ariadne turned her head to the side. Her cheek was flushed.
“It’s hot.”
He thought that he shouldn't stay in his angle. Cesare didn't insist on that state either and just straightened his head.
“Hot? Hand me a shawl.”
Instead of taking off the wool shawl she was wearing, she simply held it out to him by the shoulder. Cesare took it off his own. It was a skillful move.
After taking it off, the skin on her collarbone where the shawl had touched was red and swollen.
There was no way of knowing whether it was because the sweat was forming on the wool and rubbing against it in the room, which had become hot from the burning wood, or because she was used to the atmosphere.
"This."
Cesare took Ariadne's shawl, hung it on the armrest of the wing chair, and took out a handkerchief.
He placed a new handkerchief against the nape of her neck. It was covered in beads of sweat.
“It turned red.”
Ariadne glanced down at Cesare's handkerchief. My handkerchief then. I need to get it back.
And she thought about Cesare, who had cried like a child that day. Was Cesare sincere that day? Has there been something that has changed in this person?
He spoke softly as if he were soothing a child.
“It’s not good to be wrapped up too tightly when it’s hot. I realized this when I was hunting, but if your body temperature rises too much, it can make you sick.”
He held out his hand.
“You’re not even taking off your gloves?”
It was against San Carlo etiquette to wear gloves indoors, even in non-formal settings such as balls.
But things like etiquette were secondary.
He wanted Ariadne to be comfortable when she was with him.
He just wanted to see a simple pair of loungewear and a bare face.
As if it were a part of his daily life. It was a feeling he had never felt before, as he had always been looking for a woman who would decorate his surroundings like an artistic sculpture with porcelain-like skin and perfect makeup.
Since she had readily given him her shawl, Cesare assumed that he could take off her gloves.
The first direction he reached out to was, of all places, her left hand.
When his hand touched her camel-colored leather glove, she slapped his hand away in surprise.
“Don’t touch it!"
As if it were a part of his daily life. It was a feeling he had never felt before, as he had always been looking for a woman who would decorate his surroundings like an artistic sculpture with porcelain-like skin and perfect makeup.
Since she had readily given him her shawl, Cesare assumed that he could take off her gloves.
The first direction he reached out to was, of all places, her left hand.
When his hand touched her camel-colored leather glove, she slapped his hand away in surprise.
“Don’t touch it!"
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