Isabella made a strange, somewhat slurred sound. It was half a laugh, half a cry. She muttered.
“I thought I would never see you again.”
From Isabella's perspective, it was a truly desperate hang-up. Today was her last chance.
But from Cesare's perspective, it was a repertoire that had been repeated more than two digits. He could guess the angle instinctively without having to calculate it in his head.
'The type that appeals to guilt.'
As Cesare roughly calculated her, Isabella looked up and looked at Cesare. Cesare let out an exclamation of admiration without realizing it.
Indeed, Isabella's light blonde hair and pale features were overwhelmingly beautiful.
It was a beauty that made even Cesare, who was too busy looking in the mirror to admire the appearance of others, waver for a moment.
“That can’t be true, Isabella.”
Cesare smoothly coaxed the beauty in front of him. They were originally on mutually respectful terms, but Cesare spoke naturally.
He didn't even realize that he had lost his words.
But Isabella was quick to notice this slight discomfort.
To some extent it was unpleasant, and to some extent, it was a relief to hear that Cesare recognized the special thing that had developed between them.
Cesare again coaxed Isabella with his honey-dripping voice.
“We met again like this.”
At his sugar-coating, Isabella questioned with tears in her amethyst eyes.
“But Cesare.”
It's unfair that she's the only one who has to keep my distance. The other person just happened to be out of the conversation.
She also quickly dropped the term 'Duke' and called him by his name.
The relationship between a man and a woman is a medium that transcends all hierarchical relationships.
In this unequal world, tightly bound by caste systems and gender discrimination, if there had not been an opportunity like this to turn their lives around, women would certainly have risen up in revolt from the beginning.
And today was a huge gap in her hands, a one-time chance.
“Where is the future for us?”
Her eyes sparkled pitifully.
“We can’t be together. You’re my sister’s fiancé. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Considering that in their previous meeting, she had boldly asked him if he hated Ariadne and that he should use her if he wanted revenge, his change of attitude was so shocking that it made one wonder if he was not in his right mind.
But what Isabella was immersed in was the atmosphere of this moment, right now.
Isabella is pitiful, kind, and beautiful. Isabella, whom he cannot help but reach out to.
If only she could keep up the momentum and arouse Duke Cesare's pity, she would be willing to put up with being a bit of a two-faced person.
Her appeal continued.
“But, what should I do with my life, which I have dedicated to you wholeheartedly...?”
Isabella's voice trembled. This trembling was sincere.
She desperately wanted Cesare to abandon Ariadne and come to her.
'Ari is still pure, and there are many men who want her and many places to go. But Isabella, you only have me. I will take care of you. Don't worry.'
These were the words Isabella really, truly wanted to hear.
But what Cesare said was the exact opposite of what she wanted.
“...If you want a spouse, I can arrange one for you.”
"Yes?"
Isabella's voice became sharp. But Cesare paid no attention and continued to say what he wanted to say.
“I feel responsible. I also know what Isabella is worried about.”
She already knew the man. No matter who she married, the other person would ask.
'Why doesn't my faithful new bride show any evidence of their first night?'
“Don’t worry about that part. As long as both parties agree, it can go smoothly.”
The story is that Duke Cesare will notify the prospective groom or his family in advance and promise compensation.
In other words, he is trying to find someone who can agree that the bride is not a virgin.
The man who took Isabella's first love confesses to her prospective groom with his own mouth that Isabella is no longer a virgin, and they work out an agreement in the back room.
In exchange for tolerating the impure Isabella, the man will receive cash, a title, or a small fief.
“I will bring you the finest man I can get my hands on. Who do you want? A native? A foreign nobleman?”
This was not the future Isabella had in mind.
It was obvious that he was within Cesare's reach.
He would be a vassal of the Duke of Pisano. A man who cannot resist Cesare's money and power.
What she wanted was Cesare's money and power, not a man who would submit to Cesare's money and power.
Even if this were to happen, Cesare, who could not become Isabella's, would not be free to wander around as if he were nobody's property.
His money and power would belong to that miserable Ariadne. Isabella couldn't stand it.
“This traitor!”
Isabella's voice rose. Cesare looked around thoughtfully.
“Isabella! Lower your voice!”
But this response only served to further agitate Isabella.
“Coward! Coward! Deadly bastard!”
Isabella sensed from Cesare's reaction what he feared most.
Pity was not the keyword that moved Cesare. It was time to move on to fear. She cried out through clenched teeth.
“I’ll expose everything!!”
“Isabella!”
Isabella's eyes flashed red and she pulled out a white piece of cloth from her bosom.
“Do you know what this is?”
It was a familiar handkerchief. And there was an unfamiliar stain on it.
It was a handkerchief with Ariadne's initials on it that Cesare treasured.
“That is...”
"Yes!"
Isabella loudly held out the handkerchief stained with her virgin blood.
“What do you think Ariadne will say if I bring this to her?”
Cesare began to comfort her with a distorted expression.
“Isabella, don’t do this...”
This handkerchief may not be the official evidence that Isabella de Mare had her first experience with Cesare de Carlo.
Because it wasn't his handkerchief.
But at least Ariadne, the owner of the handkerchief, will realize what happened the moment she sees it.
“Do you think you can be forgiven?! From that heartless girl?”
“Isabella, please... calm down, and let’s talk things through.”
Isabella glared at Cesare with bloodshot eyes.
Her reddened eyes shone with moisture, but it was hard to tell whether it was madness or tears.
“Kiss me.”
"What?"
Cesare was shocked by the unexpected request. But from Isabella's perspective, it was a very reasonable request.
She needed glue to mend her shattered pride.
“If you don’t want me to take this to Aria, kiss me.”
Four men bowing down to me. Four men who are supposed to be faithful kneel before me. I'll watch that. No, I'll watch that!
You have to watch your man crawl like a dog every time I call him, get on his knees, bark when I tell him to, and beg when I tell him to!
“Isabella, I don’t think that’s a good idea...”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll go to Ariadne right now!”
Isabella, holding a bloody handkerchief in her hand, strode into the VIP section on the second floor, which was hidden behind thick velvet curtains.
Cesare hurriedly reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
The delicate Isabella was caught by Cesare and pulled back by the recoil of her forward force, and at that moment she turned around and fell into Cesare's arms.
Cesare covered Isabella's lips with his own without saying a word.
He tilted his head slightly to the side so that his high, statuesque nose would not bump into Isabella's small nose.
“Ah...!”
A small exclamation of wonder escaped Isabella's lips.
Cesare put all his skill into this kiss, intending to melt Isabella into a state where she would be speechless.
As the saying goes, a satisfied woman becomes docile. He was determined to appease Isabella for now.
Then, for now, he can escape today's predicament.
Isabella threw her head back. Cesare buried his lips in the nape of Isabella's neck and tickled her.
Hoping that Isabella's resentment and thoughts would be blown away by the pleasure.
“Ugh...!”
Her snow-white skin began to turn pink.
Isabella was wearing a bright organza dress with a plunging neckline that accentuated her gathered chest.
Although it looked good on the outside, Cesare, who had already seen the inside, knew that it was just a shiny apricot and so was not too attached to it.
But Isabella picked up Cesare's hand and placed it on top of it. Even the great Cesare was startled by Isabella's aggressiveness.
“Here?”
Isabella nodded, her face turning bright red.
It was hard to tell whether she was blushing from excitement or from embarrassment. Cesare tried to dissuade Isabella once again.
“Here, even the sounds are heard without any filter...”
“I'll be quiet.”
Her attitude was already extremely submissive.
"Please."
Isabella pleaded again, her face flushed. A red flush was blooming on her flushed cheeks.
Her cherry-red lips parted seductively. Cesare felt his eyes moving to Isabella's mucous membrane, but he couldn't stop.
A statuesque beauty was rising to his touch, begging for more. It was arousing on a visceral level.
It was a confidence-boosting moment that solidified his self-confidence that he was attractive as a male.
It would not have been easy for any man to refuse, but it was especially not the kind of temptation that Cesare could resist.
"Ha."
Cesare could not stand it anymore and took off Isabella's corpique.
At the same time, Isabella touched the lapel of Cesare's robe.
Fingers like willow branches began to undo one or two buttons of his neck.
“Haa...!”
They indulged each other wildly on the balcony, which was covered with a single curtain.
At least that's what it seemed like.
Isabella was moaning incessantly and at one point Cesare was burying his face inside Isabella's farthingale.
But the object of Cesare's passion was not the woman in front of him, but 'his own ability to satisfy others', and the object of Isabella's passion was... It was even more practical.
'This is enough.'
Isabella smiled inwardly in repentance and dropped the bloody handkerchief she was holding tightly in her hand to the floor.
And that was the signal.
Leticia de Leonati, who had been hiding behind the plants on the balcony, crawled out, picked up a vase from the display case, and threw it down the balcony.
Clang!
The horrifying sound of a porcelain vase falling from a height of two stories and shattering onto the marble floor echoed throughout the spacious hall.
At the same time, Leticia pulled the thick curtain cord with all her might and swept away the red velvet curtains covering the balcony.
Knock knock!
The red velvet curtains were parted on both sides.
Isabella and Cesare, tangled together in disheveled attire, appeared before everyone in the VIP section on the second floor, accompanied by a loud introduction as if the leading actors of a premiere play were making their debut before the distinguished guests.
And the audience's reaction was overwhelming.
“I thought I would never see you again.”
From Isabella's perspective, it was a truly desperate hang-up. Today was her last chance.
But from Cesare's perspective, it was a repertoire that had been repeated more than two digits. He could guess the angle instinctively without having to calculate it in his head.
'The type that appeals to guilt.'
As Cesare roughly calculated her, Isabella looked up and looked at Cesare. Cesare let out an exclamation of admiration without realizing it.
Indeed, Isabella's light blonde hair and pale features were overwhelmingly beautiful.
It was a beauty that made even Cesare, who was too busy looking in the mirror to admire the appearance of others, waver for a moment.
“That can’t be true, Isabella.”
Cesare smoothly coaxed the beauty in front of him. They were originally on mutually respectful terms, but Cesare spoke naturally.
He didn't even realize that he had lost his words.
But Isabella was quick to notice this slight discomfort.
To some extent it was unpleasant, and to some extent, it was a relief to hear that Cesare recognized the special thing that had developed between them.
Cesare again coaxed Isabella with his honey-dripping voice.
“We met again like this.”
At his sugar-coating, Isabella questioned with tears in her amethyst eyes.
“But Cesare.”
It's unfair that she's the only one who has to keep my distance. The other person just happened to be out of the conversation.
She also quickly dropped the term 'Duke' and called him by his name.
The relationship between a man and a woman is a medium that transcends all hierarchical relationships.
In this unequal world, tightly bound by caste systems and gender discrimination, if there had not been an opportunity like this to turn their lives around, women would certainly have risen up in revolt from the beginning.
And today was a huge gap in her hands, a one-time chance.
“Where is the future for us?”
Her eyes sparkled pitifully.
“We can’t be together. You’re my sister’s fiancé. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Considering that in their previous meeting, she had boldly asked him if he hated Ariadne and that he should use her if he wanted revenge, his change of attitude was so shocking that it made one wonder if he was not in his right mind.
But what Isabella was immersed in was the atmosphere of this moment, right now.
Isabella is pitiful, kind, and beautiful. Isabella, whom he cannot help but reach out to.
If only she could keep up the momentum and arouse Duke Cesare's pity, she would be willing to put up with being a bit of a two-faced person.
Her appeal continued.
“But, what should I do with my life, which I have dedicated to you wholeheartedly...?”
Isabella's voice trembled. This trembling was sincere.
She desperately wanted Cesare to abandon Ariadne and come to her.
'Ari is still pure, and there are many men who want her and many places to go. But Isabella, you only have me. I will take care of you. Don't worry.'
These were the words Isabella really, truly wanted to hear.
But what Cesare said was the exact opposite of what she wanted.
“...If you want a spouse, I can arrange one for you.”
"Yes?"
Isabella's voice became sharp. But Cesare paid no attention and continued to say what he wanted to say.
“I feel responsible. I also know what Isabella is worried about.”
She already knew the man. No matter who she married, the other person would ask.
'Why doesn't my faithful new bride show any evidence of their first night?'
“Don’t worry about that part. As long as both parties agree, it can go smoothly.”
The story is that Duke Cesare will notify the prospective groom or his family in advance and promise compensation.
In other words, he is trying to find someone who can agree that the bride is not a virgin.
The man who took Isabella's first love confesses to her prospective groom with his own mouth that Isabella is no longer a virgin, and they work out an agreement in the back room.
In exchange for tolerating the impure Isabella, the man will receive cash, a title, or a small fief.
“I will bring you the finest man I can get my hands on. Who do you want? A native? A foreign nobleman?”
This was not the future Isabella had in mind.
It was obvious that he was within Cesare's reach.
He would be a vassal of the Duke of Pisano. A man who cannot resist Cesare's money and power.
What she wanted was Cesare's money and power, not a man who would submit to Cesare's money and power.
Even if this were to happen, Cesare, who could not become Isabella's, would not be free to wander around as if he were nobody's property.
His money and power would belong to that miserable Ariadne. Isabella couldn't stand it.
“This traitor!”
Isabella's voice rose. Cesare looked around thoughtfully.
“Isabella! Lower your voice!”
But this response only served to further agitate Isabella.
“Coward! Coward! Deadly bastard!”
Isabella sensed from Cesare's reaction what he feared most.
Pity was not the keyword that moved Cesare. It was time to move on to fear. She cried out through clenched teeth.
“I’ll expose everything!!”
“Isabella!”
Isabella's eyes flashed red and she pulled out a white piece of cloth from her bosom.
“Do you know what this is?”
It was a familiar handkerchief. And there was an unfamiliar stain on it.
It was a handkerchief with Ariadne's initials on it that Cesare treasured.
“That is...”
"Yes!"
Isabella loudly held out the handkerchief stained with her virgin blood.
“What do you think Ariadne will say if I bring this to her?”
Cesare began to comfort her with a distorted expression.
“Isabella, don’t do this...”
This handkerchief may not be the official evidence that Isabella de Mare had her first experience with Cesare de Carlo.
Because it wasn't his handkerchief.
But at least Ariadne, the owner of the handkerchief, will realize what happened the moment she sees it.
“Do you think you can be forgiven?! From that heartless girl?”
“Isabella, please... calm down, and let’s talk things through.”
Isabella glared at Cesare with bloodshot eyes.
Her reddened eyes shone with moisture, but it was hard to tell whether it was madness or tears.
“Kiss me.”
"What?"
Cesare was shocked by the unexpected request. But from Isabella's perspective, it was a very reasonable request.
She needed glue to mend her shattered pride.
“If you don’t want me to take this to Aria, kiss me.”
Four men bowing down to me. Four men who are supposed to be faithful kneel before me. I'll watch that. No, I'll watch that!
You have to watch your man crawl like a dog every time I call him, get on his knees, bark when I tell him to, and beg when I tell him to!
“Isabella, I don’t think that’s a good idea...”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll go to Ariadne right now!”
Isabella, holding a bloody handkerchief in her hand, strode into the VIP section on the second floor, which was hidden behind thick velvet curtains.
Cesare hurriedly reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
The delicate Isabella was caught by Cesare and pulled back by the recoil of her forward force, and at that moment she turned around and fell into Cesare's arms.
Cesare covered Isabella's lips with his own without saying a word.
He tilted his head slightly to the side so that his high, statuesque nose would not bump into Isabella's small nose.
“Ah...!”
A small exclamation of wonder escaped Isabella's lips.
Cesare put all his skill into this kiss, intending to melt Isabella into a state where she would be speechless.
As the saying goes, a satisfied woman becomes docile. He was determined to appease Isabella for now.
Then, for now, he can escape today's predicament.
Isabella threw her head back. Cesare buried his lips in the nape of Isabella's neck and tickled her.
Hoping that Isabella's resentment and thoughts would be blown away by the pleasure.
“Ugh...!”
Her snow-white skin began to turn pink.
Isabella was wearing a bright organza dress with a plunging neckline that accentuated her gathered chest.
Although it looked good on the outside, Cesare, who had already seen the inside, knew that it was just a shiny apricot and so was not too attached to it.
But Isabella picked up Cesare's hand and placed it on top of it. Even the great Cesare was startled by Isabella's aggressiveness.
“Here?”
Isabella nodded, her face turning bright red.
It was hard to tell whether she was blushing from excitement or from embarrassment. Cesare tried to dissuade Isabella once again.
“Here, even the sounds are heard without any filter...”
“I'll be quiet.”
Her attitude was already extremely submissive.
"Please."
Isabella pleaded again, her face flushed. A red flush was blooming on her flushed cheeks.
Her cherry-red lips parted seductively. Cesare felt his eyes moving to Isabella's mucous membrane, but he couldn't stop.
A statuesque beauty was rising to his touch, begging for more. It was arousing on a visceral level.
It was a confidence-boosting moment that solidified his self-confidence that he was attractive as a male.
It would not have been easy for any man to refuse, but it was especially not the kind of temptation that Cesare could resist.
"Ha."
Cesare could not stand it anymore and took off Isabella's corpique.
At the same time, Isabella touched the lapel of Cesare's robe.
Fingers like willow branches began to undo one or two buttons of his neck.
“Haa...!”
The atmosphere quickly grew warm. A few fabrics like dragonfly wings came free, and dense sighs and humid exhalations intersected.
At least that's what it seemed like.
Isabella was moaning incessantly and at one point Cesare was burying his face inside Isabella's farthingale.
But the object of Cesare's passion was not the woman in front of him, but 'his own ability to satisfy others', and the object of Isabella's passion was... It was even more practical.
'This is enough.'
Isabella smiled inwardly in repentance and dropped the bloody handkerchief she was holding tightly in her hand to the floor.
And that was the signal.
Leticia de Leonati, who had been hiding behind the plants on the balcony, crawled out, picked up a vase from the display case, and threw it down the balcony.
Clang!
The horrifying sound of a porcelain vase falling from a height of two stories and shattering onto the marble floor echoed throughout the spacious hall.
At the same time, Leticia pulled the thick curtain cord with all her might and swept away the red velvet curtains covering the balcony.
Knock knock!
The red velvet curtains were parted on both sides.
Isabella and Cesare, tangled together in disheveled attire, appeared before everyone in the VIP section on the second floor, accompanied by a loud introduction as if the leading actors of a premiere play were making their debut before the distinguished guests.
And the audience's reaction was overwhelming.
Support Novellate!
Comments
Post a Comment