The kiss in the rain was soft, and Cesare's lips were sweet.
His kisses were slow and gentle, but he was persistent and refused to let her go.
Cesare's lips covered Ariadne's, taking her breath away.
The mucous membranes contact each other and transfer body heat that is much hotter than the epidermis.
“Ha...”
Cesare took his lips apart for a moment and exhaled. A sigh like a sigh passed through his lips.
He bent down and placed his lips on Ariadne's ear, mumbling softly.
“Don’t hate me.”
Before she could reply, Cesare covered Ariadne's lips again.
The second kiss was a bit more intense, an expression of his determination not to tolerate rejection.
Compared to her passiveness, he was enjoying everything about her.
Ariadne's even teeth, moist mouth, and warm breath were all within his reach.
He discovered, savored, and admired everything without hesitation, yet with the utmost sincerity, without leaving anything out.
Cesare had probably kissed thousands of times, but this was a new and unknown place.
If other places were human territory, this place seemed like a sanctuary for the Gods.
Unlike the countless others who just passed by, Ariadne had meaning.
He parted his lips slightly and spoke softly in a voice right in front of her nose.
“I need you. You make me a better person.”
It was a difficult confession. Cesare, who had said those words, stood still, holding Ariadne in his arms.
A drizzle fell incessantly, soaking them both.
After a moment or an eternity, he opened his mouth.
The earth was silent, and only his voice could be heard.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop everything. I’ll stop drinking too much, and I’ll stop making weird friends. I’ll only have you as a woman. As long as I have you, I don’t need any other women.”
For some reason, Ariadne thought that Cesare's voice sounded like it was on the verge of tears.
“I’ll do anything.”
Cesare whispered in a low, locked voice.
“...Don’t leave me.”
Now Ariadne looked at Cesare, speechless. She felt an indescribable emotion.
The moment she had longed for, even dreamed of, had finally arrived.
About ten years too late. Or about ten years too early.
If Cesare had confessed this to her in her previous life, she would have greeted him with tears of joy.
His kisses were slow and gentle, but he was persistent and refused to let her go.
Cesare's lips covered Ariadne's, taking her breath away.
The mucous membranes contact each other and transfer body heat that is much hotter than the epidermis.
“Ha...”
Cesare took his lips apart for a moment and exhaled. A sigh like a sigh passed through his lips.
He bent down and placed his lips on Ariadne's ear, mumbling softly.
“Don’t hate me.”
Before she could reply, Cesare covered Ariadne's lips again.
The second kiss was a bit more intense, an expression of his determination not to tolerate rejection.
Compared to her passiveness, he was enjoying everything about her.
Ariadne's even teeth, moist mouth, and warm breath were all within his reach.
He discovered, savored, and admired everything without hesitation, yet with the utmost sincerity, without leaving anything out.
Cesare had probably kissed thousands of times, but this was a new and unknown place.
If other places were human territory, this place seemed like a sanctuary for the Gods.
Unlike the countless others who just passed by, Ariadne had meaning.
He parted his lips slightly and spoke softly in a voice right in front of her nose.
“I need you. You make me a better person.”
It was a difficult confession. Cesare, who had said those words, stood still, holding Ariadne in his arms.
A drizzle fell incessantly, soaking them both.
After a moment or an eternity, he opened his mouth.
The earth was silent, and only his voice could be heard.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop everything. I’ll stop drinking too much, and I’ll stop making weird friends. I’ll only have you as a woman. As long as I have you, I don’t need any other women.”
For some reason, Ariadne thought that Cesare's voice sounded like it was on the verge of tears.
“I’ll do anything.”
Cesare whispered in a low, locked voice.
“...Don’t leave me.”
Now Ariadne looked at Cesare, speechless. She felt an indescribable emotion.
The moment she had longed for, even dreamed of, had finally arrived.
About ten years too late. Or about ten years too early.
If Cesare had confessed this to her in her previous life, she would have greeted him with tears of joy.
She would always whisper her eternal love, saying that she had waited for him and that she only had him.
But this moment, long-awaited without fail, finally arrived after an infected and severed ring finger on her left hand, a prison cell on the top floor of the West Tower, and the arrival of the new Queen, Isabella.
Through the mouth of Cesare in this life who has no idea what he has done.
“...”
Ariadne chose silence. This silence was certainly long. She chose thoughts, she chose words, she chose feelings.
She couldn't tell if she had chosen correctly. It took her a really long time before she finally opened her lips.
“..I...”
But just as she was about to open her mouth, she heard the stranger's urgent cries.
“Your Highness...!! Your Highness the Duke of Pisano!”
Ariadne was startled and tried to take a step back, but Cesare held her tightly and did not let go.
The new stranger who appeared seemed familiar to Cesare.
Cesare asked the man with a gloomy expression.
“What’s going on?”
“Your Highness, we are in trouble.”
The man cried out, gasping for breath.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty’s army... gasp, gasp. Your Majesty’s guards have surrounded Villa Sortone!”
Cesare's expression became more distorted. Ariadne looked at Cesare's servant with round eyes.
“It seems that they still don’t know that the Duke has gone out. The guards have swarmed in and are blocking all the doors and entrances, forming a large formation around the area!”
Cesare smiled weakly.
“Haha, hahahahaha...”
He chanted sadly in the drizzle.
“Father is determined to get revenge for that day.”
He ran his hands through his wet hair. Raindrops ran down his sculpted cheeks.
The despair and resignation of this tall, slender man with very distinct features had the power to draw everyone around him into his emotions.
“If His Majesty the King decides to collect the debt, I have no intention of not paying it back.”
Cesare chuckled.
“My life, my property, my title... they all came from my father, so I must return them all, yes?”
But Cesare's servant shook his head and earnestly urged him.
“You can’t do that, Your Highness. For now, please take cover somewhere. You need to avoid the pouring rain.”
“If you avoid it, what happens next?”
Cesare retorted somewhat theatrically.
“The land I walk on, the air I breathe, don’t they all belong to His Majesty the King? Should I run away across the sea? Like an exile?”
“Is there any reason not to? The butler has provided some travel expenses. If you can avoid the flames for a few days until His Majesty the King’s anger abates...”
At Gasol's persuasion, Cesare waved his hand. He was not the type of person to avoid falling rain by nature.
He had been paying too much attention to his father's feelings, against his nature. He just wanted to end it all now.
“Arthur.”
His voice filled the garden where the sound of rain was loud.
“I’m going back. To Villa Sortone.”
Cesare let go of the arm he was holding around Ariadne and took a step into the rain.
It was then that a sharp voice struck his back.
“Stand there. Are you going to crawl into my arms like a snail?”
Ariadne was glaring at Cesare with angry green eyes.
Talking about emotions was difficult, but that was her specialty.
“I have a solution. Right now, go inside the de Mare mansion, wash up, and sleep soundly for half a day.”
Cesare looked at Ariadne with an expression that was mostly one of bewilderment, and a little of wonder.
“Are you saying that you can still take out more in this situation?”
Ariadne bit her lip and snapped back.
“I have a hand in any situation. So shut up and get in. Before I get mad.”
Cesare was a man who knew exactly who to bow to. He bowed.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He gestured to the man standing next to him.
“You too, say hello to your future mistress.”
Gasol bowed at a 90-degree angle and greeted without even looking around.
“It is an honor to meet you, my lady!”
Ariadne glared at Cesare, annoyed.
“Oh, come on!”
Ariadne collected her thoughts as she rode in the silver carriage of the de Mare family to the Palazzo Carlo.
If Leo III would only meet with her, she had already roughly drawn up a plan of how to appease the King.
The thoughts that were plaguing her now were of a different kind.
'...I'm angry.'
Ariadne was mulling over Cesare's actions.
'But I don't know why I'm angry.'
Are I angry because he said two things with one mouth? But strictly speaking, Cesare never changed a single word he said.
Even Ariadne herself was not very organized. But her feelings of resentment were real.
Cesare clearly said he would do anything for her.
He said he would quit women, friends, and alcohol, but he gave up on her too easily.
'But you're going back to Villa Sortone?'
Going there is the road to death.
Leo III could not possibly kill Cesare now, since he had sent his only legitimate successor abroad to languish on the battlefield.
Because the moment Cesare disappears, Alfonso's safety cannot be guaranteed, and threats and pleas from foreign countries to hand over Bianca will resonate everywhere.
But what if Princess Bianca, the third in line to the throne, has a marriage partner? And what if Prince Alfonso returns home safely?
Leo III was the kind of person who could have poured arsenic from a golden goblet on Cesare at that very moment.
'You said you wanted to look only at me.'
He says he'll do anything for her, and then the very next moment after making that sweet confession, he says he'll go die.
He always had a different tone from what he said. Ariadne couldn't believe it.
A man who makes women feel uneasy even when he confesses his passionate love, a man who loves passionately in bed but whose heart seems to be somewhere else - that was Cesare de Como.
But it was also ambiguous to accuse him of not keeping the promise he had made.
In fact, from Duke Cesare's point of view, there was nothing else he could do.
Either abandon everything and run away, or kneel obediently at the King's feet and await his judgment.
“Haa...”
You could have just asked me to solve it for you.
Ariadne thought to herself but soon came to the conclusion that it was nonsense.
Cesare wasn't that kind of man.
He was a man whose pride was so high that he would dry up and die without even asking for help, whether it worked or not.
In fact, if he had been that kind of man, Ariadne in her previous life would not have fallen for him in the first place.
In this way, Ariadne always volunteered to be Cesare's attendant.
'I'm sick of it.'
However, familiar routines tend to give people a sense of stability.
She was heading to her one-on-one meeting with Leo III, who should have been the most nervous, with a strange sense of foreboding and comfort.
The guards of Palazzo Carlo saw an elegant silver carriage enter the palace gates.
Recently, there have been few new visitors to the palace, other than the familiar faces that always come.
He mechanically stopped new guests.
“What brings you here!”
The coachman of the silver carriage lifted his hat slightly and stated his business.
“Countess de Mare is about to enter the palace.”
The guard flipped through the entry permit register. There was no such person, but he wanted to double-check. As expected, there was none.
“She is not on the list of people who have been granted entry today.”
The guard firmly refused.
“Please come back after making an appointment with the palace staff.”
He gestured to the pulleyman.
Those waiting on both sides of the main gate began to hurriedly turn the pulley to close the main gate.
The iron gates of the palace were closing in front of the silver carriage of the de Mare family.
"For a moment."
At that moment, a young woman's deep voice was heard from inside the silver carriage.
Her low, pleasant voice had a majestic quality that made the palace guards pay attention to her without realizing it.
The pulleymen did the same. Instead of closing the door, they stopped and waited for her next instructions.
Inside the carriage, she held something out through the curtain of the window.
The object gleamed faintly in the faint sunlight between the fox hooves.
“This, this is...”
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary silver brooch.
Although the laurel wreath was elaborately carved, it was not inlaid with expensive jewels or otherwise expensive.
The young woman in the carriage spoke in a soft but powerful tone.
“This is the sign of the Director of the Rambouillet Relief Center. Inform His Majesty the King that the Director of the Rambouillet Relief Center wishes to exercise his right of audience.”
It was a privilege that accrued when Queen Marguerite served as director of the Rambouillet Relief Center.
When the King was too wrapped up in the government's hemline to meet the Queen, it was created so that he could meet her husband when he had opinions that had to be shared regarding state affairs.
Although Leo III had the right of veto, the palace guards did not.
It must be reported unconditionally to the King.
And Ariadne was confident that Leo III would not refuse her a private meeting.
But this moment, long-awaited without fail, finally arrived after an infected and severed ring finger on her left hand, a prison cell on the top floor of the West Tower, and the arrival of the new Queen, Isabella.
Through the mouth of Cesare in this life who has no idea what he has done.
“...”
Ariadne chose silence. This silence was certainly long. She chose thoughts, she chose words, she chose feelings.
She couldn't tell if she had chosen correctly. It took her a really long time before she finally opened her lips.
“..I...”
But just as she was about to open her mouth, she heard the stranger's urgent cries.
“Your Highness...!! Your Highness the Duke of Pisano!”
Ariadne was startled and tried to take a step back, but Cesare held her tightly and did not let go.
The new stranger who appeared seemed familiar to Cesare.
Cesare asked the man with a gloomy expression.
“What’s going on?”
“Your Highness, we are in trouble.”
The man cried out, gasping for breath.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty’s army... gasp, gasp. Your Majesty’s guards have surrounded Villa Sortone!”
Cesare's expression became more distorted. Ariadne looked at Cesare's servant with round eyes.
“It seems that they still don’t know that the Duke has gone out. The guards have swarmed in and are blocking all the doors and entrances, forming a large formation around the area!”
Cesare smiled weakly.
“Haha, hahahahaha...”
He chanted sadly in the drizzle.
“Father is determined to get revenge for that day.”
He ran his hands through his wet hair. Raindrops ran down his sculpted cheeks.
The despair and resignation of this tall, slender man with very distinct features had the power to draw everyone around him into his emotions.
“If His Majesty the King decides to collect the debt, I have no intention of not paying it back.”
Cesare chuckled.
“My life, my property, my title... they all came from my father, so I must return them all, yes?”
But Cesare's servant shook his head and earnestly urged him.
“You can’t do that, Your Highness. For now, please take cover somewhere. You need to avoid the pouring rain.”
“If you avoid it, what happens next?”
Cesare retorted somewhat theatrically.
“The land I walk on, the air I breathe, don’t they all belong to His Majesty the King? Should I run away across the sea? Like an exile?”
“Is there any reason not to? The butler has provided some travel expenses. If you can avoid the flames for a few days until His Majesty the King’s anger abates...”
At Gasol's persuasion, Cesare waved his hand. He was not the type of person to avoid falling rain by nature.
He had been paying too much attention to his father's feelings, against his nature. He just wanted to end it all now.
“Arthur.”
His voice filled the garden where the sound of rain was loud.
“I’m going back. To Villa Sortone.”
Cesare let go of the arm he was holding around Ariadne and took a step into the rain.
It was then that a sharp voice struck his back.
“Stand there. Are you going to crawl into my arms like a snail?”
Ariadne was glaring at Cesare with angry green eyes.
Talking about emotions was difficult, but that was her specialty.
“I have a solution. Right now, go inside the de Mare mansion, wash up, and sleep soundly for half a day.”
Cesare looked at Ariadne with an expression that was mostly one of bewilderment, and a little of wonder.
“Are you saying that you can still take out more in this situation?”
Ariadne bit her lip and snapped back.
“I have a hand in any situation. So shut up and get in. Before I get mad.”
Cesare was a man who knew exactly who to bow to. He bowed.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He gestured to the man standing next to him.
“You too, say hello to your future mistress.”
Gasol bowed at a 90-degree angle and greeted without even looking around.
“It is an honor to meet you, my lady!”
Ariadne glared at Cesare, annoyed.
“Oh, come on!”
***
Ariadne collected her thoughts as she rode in the silver carriage of the de Mare family to the Palazzo Carlo.
If Leo III would only meet with her, she had already roughly drawn up a plan of how to appease the King.
The thoughts that were plaguing her now were of a different kind.
'...I'm angry.'
Ariadne was mulling over Cesare's actions.
'But I don't know why I'm angry.'
Are I angry because he said two things with one mouth? But strictly speaking, Cesare never changed a single word he said.
Even Ariadne herself was not very organized. But her feelings of resentment were real.
Cesare clearly said he would do anything for her.
He said he would quit women, friends, and alcohol, but he gave up on her too easily.
'But you're going back to Villa Sortone?'
Going there is the road to death.
Leo III could not possibly kill Cesare now, since he had sent his only legitimate successor abroad to languish on the battlefield.
Because the moment Cesare disappears, Alfonso's safety cannot be guaranteed, and threats and pleas from foreign countries to hand over Bianca will resonate everywhere.
But what if Princess Bianca, the third in line to the throne, has a marriage partner? And what if Prince Alfonso returns home safely?
Leo III was the kind of person who could have poured arsenic from a golden goblet on Cesare at that very moment.
'You said you wanted to look only at me.'
He says he'll do anything for her, and then the very next moment after making that sweet confession, he says he'll go die.
He always had a different tone from what he said. Ariadne couldn't believe it.
A man who makes women feel uneasy even when he confesses his passionate love, a man who loves passionately in bed but whose heart seems to be somewhere else - that was Cesare de Como.
But it was also ambiguous to accuse him of not keeping the promise he had made.
In fact, from Duke Cesare's point of view, there was nothing else he could do.
Either abandon everything and run away, or kneel obediently at the King's feet and await his judgment.
“Haa...”
You could have just asked me to solve it for you.
Ariadne thought to herself but soon came to the conclusion that it was nonsense.
Cesare wasn't that kind of man.
He was a man whose pride was so high that he would dry up and die without even asking for help, whether it worked or not.
In fact, if he had been that kind of man, Ariadne in her previous life would not have fallen for him in the first place.
In this way, Ariadne always volunteered to be Cesare's attendant.
'I'm sick of it.'
However, familiar routines tend to give people a sense of stability.
She was heading to her one-on-one meeting with Leo III, who should have been the most nervous, with a strange sense of foreboding and comfort.
***
The guards of Palazzo Carlo saw an elegant silver carriage enter the palace gates.
Recently, there have been few new visitors to the palace, other than the familiar faces that always come.
He mechanically stopped new guests.
“What brings you here!”
The coachman of the silver carriage lifted his hat slightly and stated his business.
“Countess de Mare is about to enter the palace.”
The guard flipped through the entry permit register. There was no such person, but he wanted to double-check. As expected, there was none.
“She is not on the list of people who have been granted entry today.”
The guard firmly refused.
“Please come back after making an appointment with the palace staff.”
He gestured to the pulleyman.
Those waiting on both sides of the main gate began to hurriedly turn the pulley to close the main gate.
The iron gates of the palace were closing in front of the silver carriage of the de Mare family.
"For a moment."
At that moment, a young woman's deep voice was heard from inside the silver carriage.
Her low, pleasant voice had a majestic quality that made the palace guards pay attention to her without realizing it.
The pulleymen did the same. Instead of closing the door, they stopped and waited for her next instructions.
Inside the carriage, she held something out through the curtain of the window.
The object gleamed faintly in the faint sunlight between the fox hooves.
“This, this is...”
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary silver brooch.
Although the laurel wreath was elaborately carved, it was not inlaid with expensive jewels or otherwise expensive.
The young woman in the carriage spoke in a soft but powerful tone.
“This is the sign of the Director of the Rambouillet Relief Center. Inform His Majesty the King that the Director of the Rambouillet Relief Center wishes to exercise his right of audience.”
It was a privilege that accrued when Queen Marguerite served as director of the Rambouillet Relief Center.
When the King was too wrapped up in the government's hemline to meet the Queen, it was created so that he could meet her husband when he had opinions that had to be shared regarding state affairs.
Although Leo III had the right of veto, the palace guards did not.
It must be reported unconditionally to the King.
And Ariadne was confident that Leo III would not refuse her a private meeting.
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