None of the knights, including Sir Bernardino and Sir Elco, dared to speak to Prince Alfonso because of the quiet anger he felt.
If Sir Manfredi, who appeared late from the rear while watching the marching line, had not asked casually, no one would have known the details until Alfonso himself told them.
“Your Highness, what does our dear King say?”
Alfonso handed the King's note to Sir Dino, a long line of half-sneer, half-anger hanging from his lips.
As the knights gathered to read the note, the Prince spoke slowly.
“They say you won’t allow us to enter the walls of San Carlo.”
“Yes?”
The knights received the Prince's announcement with astonishment and anger.
“No, His Majesty is truly going too far!”
“How can you treat your only successor, who has returned after almost five years, like this!”
“Are we on a journey or something? We are returning victorious from battlefields, temples, and burial grounds, having magnified the name of the Etruscan kingdom! And yet you do this?”
Alfonso looked ahead in silence. The answer was in the knights' words.
This happened because he was the only successor and at the same time a general who won the holy war.
After the excitement had passed, Sir Dino asked.
“Your Highness, what do you plan to do?”
Leo III's demands were precisely as follows:
The Prince's men will wait outside the walls of San Carlo, disarmed, and the Prince himself will enter Palazzo Carlo alone, disarmed, to pay a courtesy visit to the King.
It was an unacceptable condition.
“We will advance like this.”
The word the Prince chose, coincidentally, was not march but advance.
Dino asked cautiously.
“...What next?”
“We camp just outside the walls of San Carlo.”
It was a sign of protest to the King. The knights' faces brightened. This time, it was Sir Elko, who was in charge of the household, who asked.
“Can we just roughly set up a barracks that can last for two or three days?”
"No."
The Prince answered in a plain, yet powerful voice.
“We build camps just out of arrow range.”
The knights' pupils were excited. When a well-trained army was about to go into battle, they first built a camp not far from the battlefield.
This is a boast that they might attack San Carlo, Alfonso said without hesitation.
“We are humans who rolled around on the battlefield.”
He smiled broadly.
“Idiot soldiers just act in the way they are most accustomed to.”
Alfonso's expression exuded the scent of freedom. Freedom is a luxury that cannot be enjoyed without confidence and, ultimately, strength.
The Prince's Knights set up a formal camp just outside the walls of San Carlo.
It was unimaginable for the knights of the Central Continent, who now regarded their work more as honorary positions than as war engineers, to take upon themselves the work of lowly engineers.
But the warriors who fought in the field did not care. Battles, camping, and supply are all part of the war.
They would do anything to win the war. And they did it well.
There was something else that was unimaginable.
Seeing the legitimate successor to the kingdom and the noble knights at such close quarters was something that ordinary people could never have dreamed of.
This may be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
They dressed in their cleanest clothes at home and selected the best food to offer to the Prince's quarters, in a similar concept to making offerings to priests and praying to the gods.
“I have come to show my gratitude to the Prince who saved Yesak.”
“Please become the saint of Etruscans!”
“I hope that my whole family will be well and that all our sins will be washed away...”
Gifts poured into Prince Alfonso's camp, more like offerings to the altar of the gods than provisions for the army: well-baked bread, freshly picked cherries and mulberries, and even plump pigs.
It wasn't just the common people who welcomed the opportunity to have direct access to the legitimate Prince.
“His Highness Alfonso is in front of the walls of San Carlo?”
“Honey, hurry up! Send something out! When will a low-ranking noble like us get to show our faces to the Prince?”
“Should I send the older one off with some new clothes or something?”
“You little brat! Don’t miss this opportunity that just rolled in while you were trying to do something useless. Don’t think of stupid things... No, brain... I’ll go pick out the gift myself.”
The nobles also began to appear one by one at Prince Alfonso's camp, bearing gifts. At first, they were the nobles of the capital and of lower rank.
They were more refined than the common people, offering precious metals with religious symbols and other memorable and expensive items.
“Ah, His Highness is busy...”
It was a camp they visited with the expectation of meeting the Prince in person, but they were unable to meet him.
Alfonso was no longer the young Prince who could not move freely in the Marchioness's salon and was surrounded by people.
He was sorry, he was grateful, but he couldn't give his time to someone who didn't need it. It was too precious.
Since it was a natural conclusion, even the lower nobles readily accepted it. However, this did not mean that they had given up hope.
“How long will Your Majesty be staying here...?”
“Why don’t you go straight to San Carlo..."
Those who failed to see the Prince asked him why he had built his camp and why he was shut in there, either to find out the reason or to wait for another opportunity.
“Your Highness, what should I say?”
“Just talk around it appropriately.”
Alfonso motioned for the questioning knights to leave.
The captain's intention was clear. 'You guys figure it out.'
Eventually, Bernardino, Manfredi, and Sir Elko had to put their heads together and come up with something. Sir Elko was the first to come up with the idea.
“...How about that for now? Isn’t it the feast of Saint George, who takes care of pilgrimages, coming up soon?”
“Saint George is also the patron saint of soldiers.”
“How about telling a lie that you are waiting to enter San Carlo on that date?”
Sir Manfredi objected to that opinion.
“But Elko. What guarantee is there that we will be in San Carlo by that date?”
“...It would be suspicious if we still hadn’t moved from our campsite after the feast of St. George.”
Even Sir Dino expressed his concern. Then Sir Elko shrugged his only remaining shoulder.
“Please consider the Prince’s intentions.”
Although Sir Dino and Sir Manfredi were on equal terms with Sir Elko, Sir Elko, who had been the same age as Sir Manfredi since childhood, was respectful to both of them.
This was the attitude that Sir Elko had taken on without anyone telling him to do so since he had put down his sword.
But unlike them, there was a strange confidence on Sir Elko's face as he talked about Alfonso's intentions against those two.
“If he had been concerned about what His Majesty the King might think, why would he have set up camp right in front of the walls of San Carlo in the first place?”
“...”
“Besides, if His Highness were worried about the aftermath, he wouldn’t have made excuses and told us to do it ourselves. He would have decided and given the order himself.”
“What do you mean you can do this on your own...!”
Sir Dino stopped Sir Manfredi. Manfredi was good, but he was too direct. Sir Dino proposed a compromise.
“Let’s go ahead and ask His Highness if it’s okay to proceed. If the Prince says it’s okay, I’ll do as Sir Elko says.”
Elko lowered his head to hide his displeased expression.
“I’ll ask right away.”
Sir Elko entered Alfonso's barracks. He came out shortly afterward. He had a faint smile on his face. His face was intoxicated with victory.
“Please leave it as is.”
Sir Manfredi gritted his teeth. Sir Dino gently tapped Manfredi on the back to dissuade him.
“Yes. Let’s wait until the saint’s feast day to receive St. George’s blessing.”
Still uneasy, Sir Dino checked again.
“You knew that, Sir Manfredi?”
“...Yes, Sir Dino.”
Ariadne continued to fiddle with the letter from 'A' that she had received a few days ago.
Alfonso's letter. A letter written in the blue ink he always used. Unlike Alfonso's handwriting, which he always wrote with a firm pressure, the pressure was uneven.
However, it could have been written in a hurry, or it could have been written in anger so that it did not appear in its usual handwriting. Given the content of the letter, anger was a more reasonable interpretation.
She wanted to look at it in detail, but she didn't dare to open the letter again and read it.
Anyone in her shoes would have done the same. The letter read:
"To Miss Ariadne de Mare.
Although it has been formal, there is always a reason for the silence.
I was thinking of keeping my mouth shut until the end, but now that I have returned to my country, I feel that I need to make our relationship clear before we meet again, so I reluctantly pick up my pen.
I heard the news of your love affair and engagement from the limbs. You can't imagine how I felt, lying awake in the barracks at the front, trembling with betrayal.
Of all people, it had to be my half-brother, and at all times. The one who committed a greater betrayal than a pagan who abandoned their god was the saint of the poor, Ariadne de Mare, known for her faithfulness.
Unfortunately, I heard that your engagement did not come to a happy conclusion, but I must say that you had a great time during your engagement and that it left you with a title, so in conclusion, I must say congratulations.
If your engagement had not taken place, wouldn't the title have belonged to your brother?
Now that you've become a Countess, you may encounter me in high society, but I'm telling you in advance not to get your hopes up.
It's a little-known fact, but I have a very wise wife.
A woman who believed in me from the beginning when I was on the battlefield, unlike anyone else, who spared no effort to help me when I was in danger, even at the risk of her own life, and who kept her faith until the end.
Lariesa de Valoa risked her life to rescue me when my life was in danger in Galicco.
As time passed, I realized what a great commitment it was.
There aren't many people who can give everything to others, regardless of the gain. I learned this firsthand on the battlefield and from watching you.
I don't want to worry my faithful wife about your affairs.
If we ever meet in San Carlo, I want you to act like a complete stranger. This is my first and last request of you.
Today is the last day I will use this name, A."
Ariadne eventually folded the letter tightly and put it deep inside her desk. It was her punishment for her mistake.
If it was a punishment for a mistake, Ariadne would have gladly accepted it if she had been punished only for what she had done.
How many times have we been punished for things we did not do, and how many times have we been punished for things we did but were not held accountable for?
She took off her gloves and looked at the red spot on her left hand.
She had gotten used to it to some extent over the past few years. The scars from the crushing had faded a lot. The red spots were still there though.
After reading Alfonso's letter, she looked again to see if there were more red dots on her, but perhaps because there were too many, she couldn't find them, as they all looked the same as before.
Is it because I am paying the price for my sins with a heavy heart that my left hand is not responding?
'Yes, everything is correct.'
With hands like these, you can't even dream of marriage or love.
'It's just going with the flow.'
She could understand it all in her head. In her head.
If Sir Manfredi, who appeared late from the rear while watching the marching line, had not asked casually, no one would have known the details until Alfonso himself told them.
“Your Highness, what does our dear King say?”
Alfonso handed the King's note to Sir Dino, a long line of half-sneer, half-anger hanging from his lips.
As the knights gathered to read the note, the Prince spoke slowly.
“They say you won’t allow us to enter the walls of San Carlo.”
“Yes?”
The knights received the Prince's announcement with astonishment and anger.
“No, His Majesty is truly going too far!”
“How can you treat your only successor, who has returned after almost five years, like this!”
“Are we on a journey or something? We are returning victorious from battlefields, temples, and burial grounds, having magnified the name of the Etruscan kingdom! And yet you do this?”
Alfonso looked ahead in silence. The answer was in the knights' words.
This happened because he was the only successor and at the same time a general who won the holy war.
After the excitement had passed, Sir Dino asked.
“Your Highness, what do you plan to do?”
Leo III's demands were precisely as follows:
The Prince's men will wait outside the walls of San Carlo, disarmed, and the Prince himself will enter Palazzo Carlo alone, disarmed, to pay a courtesy visit to the King.
It was an unacceptable condition.
“We will advance like this.”
The word the Prince chose, coincidentally, was not march but advance.
Dino asked cautiously.
“...What next?”
“We camp just outside the walls of San Carlo.”
It was a sign of protest to the King. The knights' faces brightened. This time, it was Sir Elko, who was in charge of the household, who asked.
“Can we just roughly set up a barracks that can last for two or three days?”
"No."
The Prince answered in a plain, yet powerful voice.
“We build camps just out of arrow range.”
The knights' pupils were excited. When a well-trained army was about to go into battle, they first built a camp not far from the battlefield.
This is a boast that they might attack San Carlo, Alfonso said without hesitation.
“We are humans who rolled around on the battlefield.”
He smiled broadly.
“Idiot soldiers just act in the way they are most accustomed to.”
Alfonso's expression exuded the scent of freedom. Freedom is a luxury that cannot be enjoyed without confidence and, ultimately, strength.
***
The Prince's Knights set up a formal camp just outside the walls of San Carlo.
It was unimaginable for the knights of the Central Continent, who now regarded their work more as honorary positions than as war engineers, to take upon themselves the work of lowly engineers.
But the warriors who fought in the field did not care. Battles, camping, and supply are all part of the war.
They would do anything to win the war. And they did it well.
There was something else that was unimaginable.
Seeing the legitimate successor to the kingdom and the noble knights at such close quarters was something that ordinary people could never have dreamed of.
This may be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
They dressed in their cleanest clothes at home and selected the best food to offer to the Prince's quarters, in a similar concept to making offerings to priests and praying to the gods.
“I have come to show my gratitude to the Prince who saved Yesak.”
“Please become the saint of Etruscans!”
“I hope that my whole family will be well and that all our sins will be washed away...”
Gifts poured into Prince Alfonso's camp, more like offerings to the altar of the gods than provisions for the army: well-baked bread, freshly picked cherries and mulberries, and even plump pigs.
It wasn't just the common people who welcomed the opportunity to have direct access to the legitimate Prince.
“His Highness Alfonso is in front of the walls of San Carlo?”
“Honey, hurry up! Send something out! When will a low-ranking noble like us get to show our faces to the Prince?”
“Should I send the older one off with some new clothes or something?”
“You little brat! Don’t miss this opportunity that just rolled in while you were trying to do something useless. Don’t think of stupid things... No, brain... I’ll go pick out the gift myself.”
The nobles also began to appear one by one at Prince Alfonso's camp, bearing gifts. At first, they were the nobles of the capital and of lower rank.
They were more refined than the common people, offering precious metals with religious symbols and other memorable and expensive items.
“Ah, His Highness is busy...”
It was a camp they visited with the expectation of meeting the Prince in person, but they were unable to meet him.
Alfonso was no longer the young Prince who could not move freely in the Marchioness's salon and was surrounded by people.
He was sorry, he was grateful, but he couldn't give his time to someone who didn't need it. It was too precious.
Since it was a natural conclusion, even the lower nobles readily accepted it. However, this did not mean that they had given up hope.
“How long will Your Majesty be staying here...?”
“Why don’t you go straight to San Carlo..."
Those who failed to see the Prince asked him why he had built his camp and why he was shut in there, either to find out the reason or to wait for another opportunity.
“Your Highness, what should I say?”
“Just talk around it appropriately.”
Alfonso motioned for the questioning knights to leave.
The captain's intention was clear. 'You guys figure it out.'
Eventually, Bernardino, Manfredi, and Sir Elko had to put their heads together and come up with something. Sir Elko was the first to come up with the idea.
“...How about that for now? Isn’t it the feast of Saint George, who takes care of pilgrimages, coming up soon?”
“Saint George is also the patron saint of soldiers.”
“How about telling a lie that you are waiting to enter San Carlo on that date?”
Sir Manfredi objected to that opinion.
“But Elko. What guarantee is there that we will be in San Carlo by that date?”
“...It would be suspicious if we still hadn’t moved from our campsite after the feast of St. George.”
Even Sir Dino expressed his concern. Then Sir Elko shrugged his only remaining shoulder.
“Please consider the Prince’s intentions.”
Although Sir Dino and Sir Manfredi were on equal terms with Sir Elko, Sir Elko, who had been the same age as Sir Manfredi since childhood, was respectful to both of them.
This was the attitude that Sir Elko had taken on without anyone telling him to do so since he had put down his sword.
But unlike them, there was a strange confidence on Sir Elko's face as he talked about Alfonso's intentions against those two.
“If he had been concerned about what His Majesty the King might think, why would he have set up camp right in front of the walls of San Carlo in the first place?”
“...”
“Besides, if His Highness were worried about the aftermath, he wouldn’t have made excuses and told us to do it ourselves. He would have decided and given the order himself.”
“What do you mean you can do this on your own...!”
Sir Dino stopped Sir Manfredi. Manfredi was good, but he was too direct. Sir Dino proposed a compromise.
“Let’s go ahead and ask His Highness if it’s okay to proceed. If the Prince says it’s okay, I’ll do as Sir Elko says.”
Elko lowered his head to hide his displeased expression.
“I’ll ask right away.”
Sir Elko entered Alfonso's barracks. He came out shortly afterward. He had a faint smile on his face. His face was intoxicated with victory.
“Please leave it as is.”
Sir Manfredi gritted his teeth. Sir Dino gently tapped Manfredi on the back to dissuade him.
“Yes. Let’s wait until the saint’s feast day to receive St. George’s blessing.”
Still uneasy, Sir Dino checked again.
“You knew that, Sir Manfredi?”
“...Yes, Sir Dino.”
***
Ariadne continued to fiddle with the letter from 'A' that she had received a few days ago.
Alfonso's letter. A letter written in the blue ink he always used. Unlike Alfonso's handwriting, which he always wrote with a firm pressure, the pressure was uneven.
However, it could have been written in a hurry, or it could have been written in anger so that it did not appear in its usual handwriting. Given the content of the letter, anger was a more reasonable interpretation.
She wanted to look at it in detail, but she didn't dare to open the letter again and read it.
Anyone in her shoes would have done the same. The letter read:
"To Miss Ariadne de Mare.
Although it has been formal, there is always a reason for the silence.
I was thinking of keeping my mouth shut until the end, but now that I have returned to my country, I feel that I need to make our relationship clear before we meet again, so I reluctantly pick up my pen.
I heard the news of your love affair and engagement from the limbs. You can't imagine how I felt, lying awake in the barracks at the front, trembling with betrayal.
Of all people, it had to be my half-brother, and at all times. The one who committed a greater betrayal than a pagan who abandoned their god was the saint of the poor, Ariadne de Mare, known for her faithfulness.
Unfortunately, I heard that your engagement did not come to a happy conclusion, but I must say that you had a great time during your engagement and that it left you with a title, so in conclusion, I must say congratulations.
If your engagement had not taken place, wouldn't the title have belonged to your brother?
Now that you've become a Countess, you may encounter me in high society, but I'm telling you in advance not to get your hopes up.
It's a little-known fact, but I have a very wise wife.
A woman who believed in me from the beginning when I was on the battlefield, unlike anyone else, who spared no effort to help me when I was in danger, even at the risk of her own life, and who kept her faith until the end.
Lariesa de Valoa risked her life to rescue me when my life was in danger in Galicco.
As time passed, I realized what a great commitment it was.
There aren't many people who can give everything to others, regardless of the gain. I learned this firsthand on the battlefield and from watching you.
I don't want to worry my faithful wife about your affairs.
If we ever meet in San Carlo, I want you to act like a complete stranger. This is my first and last request of you.
Today is the last day I will use this name, A."
Ariadne eventually folded the letter tightly and put it deep inside her desk. It was her punishment for her mistake.
If it was a punishment for a mistake, Ariadne would have gladly accepted it if she had been punished only for what she had done.
How many times have we been punished for things we did not do, and how many times have we been punished for things we did but were not held accountable for?
She took off her gloves and looked at the red spot on her left hand.
She had gotten used to it to some extent over the past few years. The scars from the crushing had faded a lot. The red spots were still there though.
After reading Alfonso's letter, she looked again to see if there were more red dots on her, but perhaps because there were too many, she couldn't find them, as they all looked the same as before.
Is it because I am paying the price for my sins with a heavy heart that my left hand is not responding?
'Yes, everything is correct.'
With hands like these, you can't even dream of marriage or love.
'It's just going with the flow.'
She could understand it all in her head. In her head.
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