Leo III, who had been bedridden with a disease of melancholy, finally came to his senses a week after he had thrown away all political affairs.
“Your Majesty, the taxes we collected have increased...”
Sir Delpiano cautiously watched Leo III for signs of activity.
“...Should I report this to you later too?”
“No. Let’s see now.”
Leo III rose from his bed. The King was wearing only a light dressing gown.
His appearance was beyond words.
His once robust physique, like that of the young Alfonso, had become aged and withered, his back and shoulders hunched, and his once lively face and hands had lost fat, revealing the outlines of his bones, veins, and muscles. He looked like a living corpse.
Only the anger and stubbornness in his eyes showed that he was still vividly alive.
The King seemed to be in a very bad mood.
Unfortunately, the report that fell into the hands of Sir Delpiano was not very good either.
Sir Delpiano presented his report to the King, feeling like a cow being led to the slaughter.
As expected, Leo III, who was skimming through the report, vented his unrefined anger.
“No, I won’t feel satisfied even if I tear these guys apart to death...!”
It was a record of tax payments by each local lord. And the report in the King's hands contained an endless list of 'unpaid' taxes.
“You mean neither Salvati nor Dellatorre paid their taxes? Or even Montefeltro did not raise the poll tax for this year?”
Montefeltro was the fief of the old Marquis Oddantonio de Montefeltro, whom the King had sent to be in charge of the fief of Gaeta.
It was also the family that was the fiancée of Ariadne's friend, Gabriele.
“The Black Death is almost over in the central region! But why on earth!”
Delpiano said cautiously, looking down at the floor.
'That's right, you're like the despicable Marquis of Montefeltro,' would have been the best course of action for him, but Sir Delpiano still had a shred of conscience left to carry out the task assigned to him.
“That’s... Since the poll tax requires counting people... Since so many people have run away from their lands since early fall, we received a call that it’s impossible to tally them up and that they’ll do their best, but next year won’t be easy either.”
“These rascals, you don’t even know this favor! I sent you on a mission to the Gaeta Territory, and this is how you repay that favor!”
Leo III's resentment continued.
“That is no excuse! Even in the Taranto estate at the southern tip, they paid their poll taxes normally!”
Among the great lords who were not based in the capital but were entirely provincial, Taranto was the only one who paid taxes.
But even here, it was a bit misleading to call it 'normal'.
The Taranto fiefdom sent in a population estimate, which showed that the fiefdom's population had been halved.
Naturally, the poll tax based on the number of people was also half of the normal rate.
“The south is in a very bad state overall, Your Majesty. The south, excluding Taranto, is... Yes. It is in a bad state.”
Montefeltro, who sent an excuse, was actually a nobleman.
Most of the southern estates, indeed almost all of them except Taranto, did not pay the poll tax, without even being notified.
Leo III was furious and hit the mattress with his fist.
“What do you think of the King? What do you think of the central government?”
Finally, Leo III's fist trembled, and a blue vein stood out on his forehead.
“What do you think of me!!”
The King has been acting quite irritable lately, almost like a neurotic, unable to control his anger.
He shouted in a slurred voice as if he was bursting out in tongues.
“Are you saying this because I look funny!? I’m some old man who would steal a woman at the tip of a knife from his son!!! Everyone just sees me as some old man in the back room!!!”
It was only a few days before Leo III lost his second wife, Ariadne, to his son.
There was no logical connection between the two events, as the local lords had been preparing for the large-scale non-payment of poll taxes for at least several months.
But in Leo III's mind, the two were vividly linked as cause and effect.
In the end, it was the poor Sir Delpiano's job to stop the delusional King.
“Oh no, Your Majesty the King!”
He waved his hands enthusiastically.
“That matter was concluded very well. It was a stroke of genius that the royal enthronement did not include ‘crowning of the Queen.’ No rumors about it spread through social circles.”
The parties involved, Cesare and Ariadne, kept their mouths shut, while Duchess Rubina went around the world passionately preaching the truth.
“In social circles, there is an atmosphere of praising His Majesty the King’s grace!”
Sir Delpiano continued his praise of the King quickly, spitting, so as not to give Leo III a chance to quibble.
“I have heard that His Majesty the King has favored Commander-in-Chief Cesare, who has made a great contribution to the defeat of the Kingdom of Gallico and has given him an excellent marriage partner. His Majesty has shown favor to Duke Cesare and set an example for him. So, there is absolutely no need to worry about that!”
Sir Delpiano tried his best to find stories that would cheer up the King.
But the temperament of Leo III, who was known for his changeable nature, was unexpectedly hurt.
“Commander-in-Chief Cesare—No?”
A watery light flashed in his eyes.
“Do I favor him?”
The King shouted loudly. It was so loud that it echoed throughout the stone-built King's chambers.
“Yes, he is the Commander-in-Chief! I used to favor him! The Commander-in-Chief who put a knife to the neck of his King and his father! The Commander-in-Chief who ate the plague from the skirts of women instead of conducting military operations!”
But the word that really angered Leo III was not 'favorite commander-in-chief'.
What really angered him was what Sir Delpiano called a 'wonderful match'.
Yes, a wonderful match. A wonderful match snatched from under my nose. A wonderful match that should have been mine, a wonderful dowry! Grain and gold! A young woman!
“I won’t leave that bastard alone—!!!”
'Oh my...'
Sir Delpiano bit his lip and controlled his sullen expression. A big storm might blow.
“Bring Marquez, Baldessar and Contarini right now!”
“Yes, yes, I will follow your orders, Your Majesty.”
“No, no. That Contarini guy is Rubina’s spy.”
Sir Delpiano tried to dissuade the King by saying, 'That's not so...' but stopped himself.
Right now, his nose is three inches long. If he tries to take care of others, he will end up flying away.
“Bring them both, now!!!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
San Carlo in winter corresponds to the rainy season.
Except for very brief flashes of cold, it always rained rather than snow.
Today was another day with rain falling steadily. A young woman appeared through the rain.
The gatekeeper of the de Mare family let the man, whose face he had become accustomed to from the frequent visits he had made, pass through without asking any questions.
He came riding a horse through the rain without a raincoat and got off with a thud.
The person he was looking for happened to be standing on the front porch, holding an umbrella, inspecting the crocuses planted in the front garden.
Ariadne, wearing a red umbrella, was surprised to see a man riding a horse appearing out of nowhere and asked,
“Why is your expression like that?”
The man, Cesare, had a sad smile on his face.
A big smile appeared on his chiseled features, but his eyes were not smiling. However, his speech was cheerful.
“Miss, I got cut.”
Ariadne's eyes widened.
“What does that mean?”
“Commander-in-Chief. Just got fired.”
He ran his hand through his damp hair. Raindrops ran down his cheeks and the back of his neck.
He took a step towards her and struck her.
“Hug me.”
Ariadne was about to scold Cesare, who was drenched in rainwater, for getting wet and coming in, but she stopped herself when she saw his expression.
She was in no condition to do that. It was extremely precarious.
Ariadne said.
“Come in first. You need to dry yourself with a towel.”
But Cesare approached Ariadne and embraced her first.
Bam, Ariadne's red umbrella fell to the floor.
He pleaded with her to get away.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, stay like this.”
Swish.
The rain continued to fall. The sound of the rain buried the heavens and earth, and paradoxically, the world became very quiet.
The raindrops falling on Ariadne's exposed cheeks and neck were cold, but Cesare's body temperature was hot.
Ariadne thought she felt something hot against her cheek. Was it Cesare's breath, or a tear, or just her mood?
“The position of Commander-in-Chief is nothing. It’s nothing special. I guess I was giving it meaning without realizing it.”
Cesare's command of the army was a sign of the King's favor rather than a result of his military prowess.
Cesare also knew that fact well.
He thought he knew his place well.
It is not a position that he earned through his own ability, so there is nothing to be happy about when it is given to him, and it is not something to belittle his incompetence when it disappears.
And the King's favor was like a shackle that he carried all his life.
Something like a fragile snail shell, heavy and hard to throw away, but without it, you would die. He thought he had shed that shell by choosing Ariadne.
But the snail that lost its protective covering was not strong enough to stand up on its own.
“...It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
Ariadne, who didn't know what to do, ended up comforting Cesare with abstract words.
She wasn't used to comforting people.
As soon as Cesare told her that he had been 'dismissed from his post as commander-in-chief', calculations began to roll around in her head.
When Leo III said that he had dismissed Cesare from his post as commander-in-chief, it meant that the King had begun to seek revenge and that the bait she had sown in social circles through Rubina had not worked.
Objectively speaking, it wasn't okay at all.
But she couldn't force the cold truth into the crumbling Cesare. She helplessly repeated empty words.
“It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
Cesare, who had been holding her tightly, grabbed her shoulders with both arms and distanced himself slightly from her.
“Miss. Do I look pathetic like this?”
It was Cesare's tears that fell on Ariadne's cheek.
His aquamarine eyes were bloodshot. He muttered.
“I should have run coolly that day and cut off my father’s neck.”
Ariadne answered.
“That is just stupid.”
It is true that Cesare in his previous life had successfully completed a coup, but that was after the death of Leo III.
Leo III was a King with perfect legitimacy, despite his misrule.
There was no chance of his illegitimate son being unharmed after beheading the King.
Especially when the legitimate Prince is leading an army abroad.
She spoke forcefully. This time, unlike before, she was sincere.
“Somehow it will work out.”
Because she was going to make it happen.
“You saved me. Regardless of whether I hate you or not, I will repay the favor. This time, I will save you.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. It was the best Ariadne, clumsy at comforting, could offer.
“So, don’t worry.”
Cesare, who heard Ariadne's inner thoughts, stared at her with watery eyes.
Those aquamarine eyes resembled those of a child who had once looked at Queen Marguerite in the Queen's garden.
He spoke quietly in a soft voice.
“...Young lady, do you really hate me?”
“Yes. I don’t like you.”
Ariadne answered immediately without a moment's hesitation. She looked straight at Cesare.
“I don’t like you being weak, but also having a lot of pride. I don’t like you being unable to give up when you’re wrong, and I don’t like you being a womanizer.”
Ariadne's attacks continued at a rapid pace.
“I hate people who have vague priorities. I hate people who are too extravagant, and I hate people who drink too much. You can’t keep your balance and just like to have fun. All your friends are weird people, and you live without thinking.”
...And what I hated the most was that you didn't love me.
Ariadne looked at Cesare and uttered her last words.
“I hate you.”
Cesare gazed at Ariadne like that. Then he bowed his head and kissed her.
“Your Majesty, the taxes we collected have increased...”
Sir Delpiano cautiously watched Leo III for signs of activity.
“...Should I report this to you later too?”
“No. Let’s see now.”
Leo III rose from his bed. The King was wearing only a light dressing gown.
His appearance was beyond words.
His once robust physique, like that of the young Alfonso, had become aged and withered, his back and shoulders hunched, and his once lively face and hands had lost fat, revealing the outlines of his bones, veins, and muscles. He looked like a living corpse.
Only the anger and stubbornness in his eyes showed that he was still vividly alive.
The King seemed to be in a very bad mood.
Unfortunately, the report that fell into the hands of Sir Delpiano was not very good either.
Sir Delpiano presented his report to the King, feeling like a cow being led to the slaughter.
As expected, Leo III, who was skimming through the report, vented his unrefined anger.
“No, I won’t feel satisfied even if I tear these guys apart to death...!”
It was a record of tax payments by each local lord. And the report in the King's hands contained an endless list of 'unpaid' taxes.
“You mean neither Salvati nor Dellatorre paid their taxes? Or even Montefeltro did not raise the poll tax for this year?”
Montefeltro was the fief of the old Marquis Oddantonio de Montefeltro, whom the King had sent to be in charge of the fief of Gaeta.
It was also the family that was the fiancée of Ariadne's friend, Gabriele.
“The Black Death is almost over in the central region! But why on earth!”
Delpiano said cautiously, looking down at the floor.
'That's right, you're like the despicable Marquis of Montefeltro,' would have been the best course of action for him, but Sir Delpiano still had a shred of conscience left to carry out the task assigned to him.
“That’s... Since the poll tax requires counting people... Since so many people have run away from their lands since early fall, we received a call that it’s impossible to tally them up and that they’ll do their best, but next year won’t be easy either.”
“These rascals, you don’t even know this favor! I sent you on a mission to the Gaeta Territory, and this is how you repay that favor!”
Leo III's resentment continued.
“That is no excuse! Even in the Taranto estate at the southern tip, they paid their poll taxes normally!”
Among the great lords who were not based in the capital but were entirely provincial, Taranto was the only one who paid taxes.
But even here, it was a bit misleading to call it 'normal'.
The Taranto fiefdom sent in a population estimate, which showed that the fiefdom's population had been halved.
Naturally, the poll tax based on the number of people was also half of the normal rate.
“The south is in a very bad state overall, Your Majesty. The south, excluding Taranto, is... Yes. It is in a bad state.”
Montefeltro, who sent an excuse, was actually a nobleman.
Most of the southern estates, indeed almost all of them except Taranto, did not pay the poll tax, without even being notified.
Leo III was furious and hit the mattress with his fist.
“What do you think of the King? What do you think of the central government?”
Finally, Leo III's fist trembled, and a blue vein stood out on his forehead.
“What do you think of me!!”
The King has been acting quite irritable lately, almost like a neurotic, unable to control his anger.
He shouted in a slurred voice as if he was bursting out in tongues.
“Are you saying this because I look funny!? I’m some old man who would steal a woman at the tip of a knife from his son!!! Everyone just sees me as some old man in the back room!!!”
It was only a few days before Leo III lost his second wife, Ariadne, to his son.
There was no logical connection between the two events, as the local lords had been preparing for the large-scale non-payment of poll taxes for at least several months.
But in Leo III's mind, the two were vividly linked as cause and effect.
In the end, it was the poor Sir Delpiano's job to stop the delusional King.
“Oh no, Your Majesty the King!”
He waved his hands enthusiastically.
“That matter was concluded very well. It was a stroke of genius that the royal enthronement did not include ‘crowning of the Queen.’ No rumors about it spread through social circles.”
The parties involved, Cesare and Ariadne, kept their mouths shut, while Duchess Rubina went around the world passionately preaching the truth.
“In social circles, there is an atmosphere of praising His Majesty the King’s grace!”
Sir Delpiano continued his praise of the King quickly, spitting, so as not to give Leo III a chance to quibble.
“I have heard that His Majesty the King has favored Commander-in-Chief Cesare, who has made a great contribution to the defeat of the Kingdom of Gallico and has given him an excellent marriage partner. His Majesty has shown favor to Duke Cesare and set an example for him. So, there is absolutely no need to worry about that!”
Sir Delpiano tried his best to find stories that would cheer up the King.
But the temperament of Leo III, who was known for his changeable nature, was unexpectedly hurt.
“Commander-in-Chief Cesare—No?”
A watery light flashed in his eyes.
“Do I favor him?”
The King shouted loudly. It was so loud that it echoed throughout the stone-built King's chambers.
“Yes, he is the Commander-in-Chief! I used to favor him! The Commander-in-Chief who put a knife to the neck of his King and his father! The Commander-in-Chief who ate the plague from the skirts of women instead of conducting military operations!”
But the word that really angered Leo III was not 'favorite commander-in-chief'.
What really angered him was what Sir Delpiano called a 'wonderful match'.
Yes, a wonderful match. A wonderful match snatched from under my nose. A wonderful match that should have been mine, a wonderful dowry! Grain and gold! A young woman!
“I won’t leave that bastard alone—!!!”
'Oh my...'
Sir Delpiano bit his lip and controlled his sullen expression. A big storm might blow.
“Bring Marquez, Baldessar and Contarini right now!”
“Yes, yes, I will follow your orders, Your Majesty.”
“No, no. That Contarini guy is Rubina’s spy.”
Sir Delpiano tried to dissuade the King by saying, 'That's not so...' but stopped himself.
Right now, his nose is three inches long. If he tries to take care of others, he will end up flying away.
“Bring them both, now!!!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
***
San Carlo in winter corresponds to the rainy season.
Except for very brief flashes of cold, it always rained rather than snow.
Today was another day with rain falling steadily. A young woman appeared through the rain.
The gatekeeper of the de Mare family let the man, whose face he had become accustomed to from the frequent visits he had made, pass through without asking any questions.
He came riding a horse through the rain without a raincoat and got off with a thud.
The person he was looking for happened to be standing on the front porch, holding an umbrella, inspecting the crocuses planted in the front garden.
Ariadne, wearing a red umbrella, was surprised to see a man riding a horse appearing out of nowhere and asked,
“Why is your expression like that?”
The man, Cesare, had a sad smile on his face.
A big smile appeared on his chiseled features, but his eyes were not smiling. However, his speech was cheerful.
“Miss, I got cut.”
Ariadne's eyes widened.
“What does that mean?”
“Commander-in-Chief. Just got fired.”
He ran his hand through his damp hair. Raindrops ran down his cheeks and the back of his neck.
He took a step towards her and struck her.
“Hug me.”
Ariadne was about to scold Cesare, who was drenched in rainwater, for getting wet and coming in, but she stopped herself when she saw his expression.
She was in no condition to do that. It was extremely precarious.
Ariadne said.
“Come in first. You need to dry yourself with a towel.”
But Cesare approached Ariadne and embraced her first.
Bam, Ariadne's red umbrella fell to the floor.
He pleaded with her to get away.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, stay like this.”
Swish.
The rain continued to fall. The sound of the rain buried the heavens and earth, and paradoxically, the world became very quiet.
The raindrops falling on Ariadne's exposed cheeks and neck were cold, but Cesare's body temperature was hot.
Ariadne thought she felt something hot against her cheek. Was it Cesare's breath, or a tear, or just her mood?
“The position of Commander-in-Chief is nothing. It’s nothing special. I guess I was giving it meaning without realizing it.”
Cesare's command of the army was a sign of the King's favor rather than a result of his military prowess.
Cesare also knew that fact well.
He thought he knew his place well.
It is not a position that he earned through his own ability, so there is nothing to be happy about when it is given to him, and it is not something to belittle his incompetence when it disappears.
And the King's favor was like a shackle that he carried all his life.
Something like a fragile snail shell, heavy and hard to throw away, but without it, you would die. He thought he had shed that shell by choosing Ariadne.
But the snail that lost its protective covering was not strong enough to stand up on its own.
“...It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
Ariadne, who didn't know what to do, ended up comforting Cesare with abstract words.
She wasn't used to comforting people.
As soon as Cesare told her that he had been 'dismissed from his post as commander-in-chief', calculations began to roll around in her head.
When Leo III said that he had dismissed Cesare from his post as commander-in-chief, it meant that the King had begun to seek revenge and that the bait she had sown in social circles through Rubina had not worked.
Objectively speaking, it wasn't okay at all.
But she couldn't force the cold truth into the crumbling Cesare. She helplessly repeated empty words.
“It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”
Cesare, who had been holding her tightly, grabbed her shoulders with both arms and distanced himself slightly from her.
“Miss. Do I look pathetic like this?”
It was Cesare's tears that fell on Ariadne's cheek.
His aquamarine eyes were bloodshot. He muttered.
“I should have run coolly that day and cut off my father’s neck.”
Ariadne answered.
“That is just stupid.”
It is true that Cesare in his previous life had successfully completed a coup, but that was after the death of Leo III.
Leo III was a King with perfect legitimacy, despite his misrule.
There was no chance of his illegitimate son being unharmed after beheading the King.
Especially when the legitimate Prince is leading an army abroad.
She spoke forcefully. This time, unlike before, she was sincere.
“Somehow it will work out.”
Because she was going to make it happen.
“You saved me. Regardless of whether I hate you or not, I will repay the favor. This time, I will save you.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. It was the best Ariadne, clumsy at comforting, could offer.
“So, don’t worry.”
Cesare, who heard Ariadne's inner thoughts, stared at her with watery eyes.
Those aquamarine eyes resembled those of a child who had once looked at Queen Marguerite in the Queen's garden.
He spoke quietly in a soft voice.
“...Young lady, do you really hate me?”
“Yes. I don’t like you.”
Ariadne answered immediately without a moment's hesitation. She looked straight at Cesare.
“I don’t like you being weak, but also having a lot of pride. I don’t like you being unable to give up when you’re wrong, and I don’t like you being a womanizer.”
Ariadne's attacks continued at a rapid pace.
“I hate people who have vague priorities. I hate people who are too extravagant, and I hate people who drink too much. You can’t keep your balance and just like to have fun. All your friends are weird people, and you live without thinking.”
...And what I hated the most was that you didn't love me.
Ariadne looked at Cesare and uttered her last words.
“I hate you.”
Cesare gazed at Ariadne like that. Then he bowed his head and kissed her.
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