“Count Contarini, when are you getting married?”
Ottavio stuttered as he came to see Duchess Rubina, completely unaware that such a topic would suddenly arise.
“Ah... That... It hasn’t been long since my father passed away...”
“Oh, right. That’s right.”
Rubina, who had no interest in Ottavio's personal feelings or circumstances, answered carelessly.
“Your fiancee will be heartbroken.”
It was unclear whether she was heartbroken because her wedding had been postponed or because her prospective father-in-law had passed away, but Ottavio heard it differently.
'Camellia will be very heartbroken. The wedding will be a disaster.'
He had no idea how much he could reveal to Rubina right now.
“I guess so.”
So he only made promises that he could make.
“But don’t worry. She is the most beautiful and stylish woman in the capital.”
Isabella had no worries in that regard.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to help you, Duchess. Hahaha!”
Rubina also smiled with satisfaction. Ottavio's fiancee is the daughter of Baron Castiglione, the owner of a large merchant house that competes for the top spot in the capital.
Ottavio took her side at court, while Ottavio's wife was her source of funding outside, and in a way, was a flower girl.
“Very well, Count Contarini. I believe you.”
“Just leave it to me! Hahahahaha!”
“How can this be?!”
The sound of camellia filled Ariadne's drawing room.
“How could he do this to me!”
Camellia cried out, tears and snot streaming down her face. Camellia hated showing her messed up appearance, but she didn't have the luxury of considering such things today.
Cornelia silently held Camellia in her arms.
It was originally Felicite's job to comfort her grieving friend, but Felicite was not present.
Felicite is twenty-five years old this year, a bit older than the rest of her friends. She has not yet found a suitable partner.
Then, just a few days earlier, her father, Count Elba, had sent her to a monastery to save on her dowry.
“Camellia...”
Camellia's red lips mixed with her tears and stained Cornelia's white dress, but no one pointed it out.
“What do I do now!”
No one brought it up, but the three letters “convent” lingered heavily in everyone’s mind.
The news Camellia brought today was a notice of the breakup of engagement from Count Contarini.
Ottavio de Contarini sent the letter of breakup without giving any reason.
The Baron of Castiglione held out for the time being, saying that an engagement could not be broken off without a just cause, but since the head of the household, the intended bride, refused to go through with the marriage even if he died, he could receive compensation for damages, but there was virtually no way to force the marriage itself.
Gabriele, who had now married the eldest son of the Marquis of Montefeltro and was no longer the Lady of the Countess of Dellattore but Lady Gabriele, consoled Camellia.
“The Castiglione family is different from the Counts of Elba... You’ll be fine, Camellia.”
Certainly, Baron Castiglione would not have had enough dowry to send Camellia to a convent.
But, because she seemed too manly to others, that was reason enough to send her daughter to a convent.
“The Baron loves you so much. That won’t happen.”
Julia chimed in, but there was no conviction in their voices.
Camellia could probably get married, but her fiance would most certainly be of a lower class than Ottavio de Contarini.
Camellia was well past her prime and had been engaged to one man for far too long.
A concubine to an older nobleman was the best Camellia could objectively hope for unless she was willing to take in a very poor man as her husband.
It was the same when she was carrying a dowry wrapped up in a bundle.
“Ottavio! Why on earth!”
Camellia's tears fell onto the carpet.
It was a mixture of tears of resentment and love for Ottavio, and, above all, despair and anger at her own fate.
“Why on earth are you doing this now!”
That was the same worry Ariadne had.
Why on earth is Ottavio de Contarini coming now?
The two were a good match, and there was also Camellia's dowry, which the Contarini family had received from the Castiglione family for the engagement of their children.
She don't know the exact amount, but according to Camellia, it's not a small amount.
If you break off the engagement, you will have to pay back all that money. If there is no good reason, you will have to pay damages as well.
In her previous life, Ottavio had married Camellia quietly. Although they bickered occasionally, they had many children and she remember that they had a pretty decent family life.
Ariadne pondered what had changed between her past life and this one.
The only thing she changed about her noble marriage when she came back into this life was breaking off her engagement to Cesare.
'It seems that Ottavio's sister is not in a relationship with Cesare in this life. Is something wrong because of that?'
That was too far off the mark.
'Or maybe Ottavio wasn't hanging out with Cesare in the capital, so he was doing something else during that time and met another woman...?'
Who would be his marriage partner? She wouldn't be someone he could meet through honest means. A courtesan? Or the daughter of a poor farmer?
Suddenly, like a flash, a thought crossed Ariadne's mind.
'Isabella!'
Camellia, who had been hugged by her friends in Ariadne's living room and cried for a long time, said goodbye to her friends, saying she would go back first.
She felt embarrassed to continue looking at her friends because she had cried so much in front of them. Plus, her eyelids were all swollen.
She planned to take a short walk in the gardens of the de Mare mansion to relieve her swelling before getting into the carriage and then going home.
Camellia, who had always been a pretty and kind daughter, disappointed her parents for the first time since she was born.
To be unilaterally notified of a breakup by her fiance! To Camellia, it felt like a failure to notice that she was lacking in femininity.
‘Is it because I’m ugly and old that Ottavio no longer loves me...’
Camellia, who was walking along Ariadne’s backyard with such thoughts, burst into tears again. If she wiped her hot eyes with her hand, her makeup would come off.
Even in the reception room, she desperately maintained her eye makeup by dabbing it with a handkerchief. She couldn't ruin it now.
“Sob sob...”
She walked blindly. As she walked briskly, Camellia bumped into someone. It was a man with a strong physique.
“Ahh!”
Camellia fell into the petunia flower bed.
“Are you okay?”
A slightly older man hurriedly looked at Camellia. He was not tall, but he had a well-built and sturdy appearance.
“Are you badly hurt?”
Camellia stared blankly at the man. It was her first time seeing his face, but he seemed strangely familiar.
But that wasn't the issue right now. Camellia groaned and mumbled.
“My ankle... my ankle hurts.”
“Oh, because of me.”
The middle-aged man took his time, wondering if he could leave Camellia alone, and then made a suggestion.
“I have some business to attend to here, but I think it would be best if you came back quickly... If it’s okay with you, I’ll take you to your home now. Which side is your home?”
Camellia still had no thoughts at this point.
Ariadne was climbing the hill of Toludo. It was nine o'clock at night, and she was alone, as the Moorish grandmother had advised.
Hehehe!
Her brown mare, stumbling upon an unexpected rock in the dark, lifted her forelegs and neighed loudly.
“Raphina, whoa whoa.”
Ariadne tried to calm the horse.
“It’s okay, it’s okay...”
Heheheehe!
But the horse raised its forelegs again and neighed, and Ariadne tightened the reins to pull back the bit.
The bridles that the Count de Mare used in the de Mare mansion could not have been old. She examined the bridles carefully.
'This is...'
A finely sanded area was visible at the broken part of the bridle.
Although care was taken to make it look naturally worn, the rest of the harness was shiny new leather.
She stood there dumbfounded, rolling her head as she walked up the hill.
'Attempted murder...? Who on earth would do something like this...'
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout.
“We met at the top of the hill, so why are you lingering here?”
Ariadne looked back in surprise. The same old Moorish grandmother was swinging her cane and glaring at her.
“There’s no need to yell!”
Ariadne shouted back to hide her surprised heart. The Moorish grandmother smiled and answered.
“The only time people like us can raise our voices is at night. Please give us some time.”
She walked ahead along the path leading up the hill.
“Hey, come with me. The moon will rise.”
Ariadne roughly retied the broken rein to the bridle and quickly followed the grandmother as she climbed up the hilltop at a leisurely pace.
But even that didn't seem to please the Moorish grandmother.
“Have you ever eaten a snail that moves a little bit?”
Ariadne pouted.
“Snails are not our food.”
For some reason, she felt like she could act spoiled by this old lady. And the feeling itself was also unpleasant.
Snails are a traditional food of Gallico. Ariadne has been feeling very depressed since yesterday when she heard rumors circulating in the capital.
The rumor was that 'Prince Alfonso was already married to the Grand Duchess of Lariesa', and although Leo III desperately tried to keep silent, information was already spreading among those with a keen ear.
But it seems that the Moorish grandmother had no intention of enduring Ariadne's antics.
“You don’t even know the metaphor.”
She climbed to the top of the hill, giggling cheerfully and spreading her arms wide.
“Come on! Is there anyone here?”
Ariadne began to feel resentful of the Moorish grandmother's one-sided conversations.
“At this hour, there would be no one on top of the hill in Toludo!”
Even though she must have clearly heard the defiance in her voice, the Moorish grandmother still answered coolly.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Look up at the sky.”
Ariadne looked up at the sky as the grandmother told her.
Usually, the stars would shine brightly as if the universe were pouring down to the ground, but tonight, even though there were no clouds, the entire sky was dark and quiet.
“...?”
“Tsk tsk. There’s no moon.”
The Moorish grandmother took out glittering gold dust from her belt and sprinkled it all over the place. Then she waved her wand and drew squares from one pile of gold dust to another.
“Yes. Let’s talk.”
Ariadne had seen this behavior before.
On the day Lucrezia's maid died, a gypsy woman who had fled to the Moorish Empire had done the same thing, although the specific shape of the figure was different.
She nodded slowly.
“You’re real. You did a good job following me.”
“Then did you think I was fake?”
The offended old woman spoke curtly. Ariadne shrugged her shoulders.
“I’ve met a lot of scammers over the years.”
Since meeting the gypsy woman who had left for the Moorish Empire, Ariadne had met most of the gypsies and tarot readers who were said to have magical powers in the Etruscan kingdom.
What they said was usually similar.
They were the type who said, "If you offer sacrifices and pray to the gods, all your worries will be taken away because misfortune is coming."
She said she believed it with her mouth, but in reality, she was not letting her guard down. Ariadne asked the grandmother to test it.
“I had an embarrassing experience when I was coming up. The horse’s reins broke.”
Ariadne looked at the old woman carefully. If she were a liar, it would be obvious from her attitude when answering.
“I think this is an attempted murder. What should I do?”
Scammers often respond here by asking you to be sincere.
But the old woman answered abruptly.
“Don’t worry about such trivial things.”
“Is an assassination attempt a dirty thing?”
“It’s nothing in the big picture.”
The old woman said with a grin.
“Other than that, let’s talk about how you came back, regressor.”
The old woman said with shining eyes.
“No, a half-regressor.”
Ottavio stuttered as he came to see Duchess Rubina, completely unaware that such a topic would suddenly arise.
“Ah... That... It hasn’t been long since my father passed away...”
“Oh, right. That’s right.”
Rubina, who had no interest in Ottavio's personal feelings or circumstances, answered carelessly.
“Your fiancee will be heartbroken.”
It was unclear whether she was heartbroken because her wedding had been postponed or because her prospective father-in-law had passed away, but Ottavio heard it differently.
'Camellia will be very heartbroken. The wedding will be a disaster.'
He had no idea how much he could reveal to Rubina right now.
“I guess so.”
So he only made promises that he could make.
“But don’t worry. She is the most beautiful and stylish woman in the capital.”
Isabella had no worries in that regard.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to help you, Duchess. Hahaha!”
Rubina also smiled with satisfaction. Ottavio's fiancee is the daughter of Baron Castiglione, the owner of a large merchant house that competes for the top spot in the capital.
Ottavio took her side at court, while Ottavio's wife was her source of funding outside, and in a way, was a flower girl.
“Very well, Count Contarini. I believe you.”
“Just leave it to me! Hahahahaha!”
***
“How can this be?!”
The sound of camellia filled Ariadne's drawing room.
“How could he do this to me!”
Camellia cried out, tears and snot streaming down her face. Camellia hated showing her messed up appearance, but she didn't have the luxury of considering such things today.
Cornelia silently held Camellia in her arms.
It was originally Felicite's job to comfort her grieving friend, but Felicite was not present.
Felicite is twenty-five years old this year, a bit older than the rest of her friends. She has not yet found a suitable partner.
Then, just a few days earlier, her father, Count Elba, had sent her to a monastery to save on her dowry.
“Camellia...”
Camellia's red lips mixed with her tears and stained Cornelia's white dress, but no one pointed it out.
“What do I do now!”
No one brought it up, but the three letters “convent” lingered heavily in everyone’s mind.
The news Camellia brought today was a notice of the breakup of engagement from Count Contarini.
Ottavio de Contarini sent the letter of breakup without giving any reason.
The Baron of Castiglione held out for the time being, saying that an engagement could not be broken off without a just cause, but since the head of the household, the intended bride, refused to go through with the marriage even if he died, he could receive compensation for damages, but there was virtually no way to force the marriage itself.
Gabriele, who had now married the eldest son of the Marquis of Montefeltro and was no longer the Lady of the Countess of Dellattore but Lady Gabriele, consoled Camellia.
“The Castiglione family is different from the Counts of Elba... You’ll be fine, Camellia.”
Certainly, Baron Castiglione would not have had enough dowry to send Camellia to a convent.
But, because she seemed too manly to others, that was reason enough to send her daughter to a convent.
“The Baron loves you so much. That won’t happen.”
Julia chimed in, but there was no conviction in their voices.
Camellia could probably get married, but her fiance would most certainly be of a lower class than Ottavio de Contarini.
Camellia was well past her prime and had been engaged to one man for far too long.
A concubine to an older nobleman was the best Camellia could objectively hope for unless she was willing to take in a very poor man as her husband.
It was the same when she was carrying a dowry wrapped up in a bundle.
“Ottavio! Why on earth!”
Camellia's tears fell onto the carpet.
It was a mixture of tears of resentment and love for Ottavio, and, above all, despair and anger at her own fate.
“Why on earth are you doing this now!”
That was the same worry Ariadne had.
Why on earth is Ottavio de Contarini coming now?
The two were a good match, and there was also Camellia's dowry, which the Contarini family had received from the Castiglione family for the engagement of their children.
She don't know the exact amount, but according to Camellia, it's not a small amount.
If you break off the engagement, you will have to pay back all that money. If there is no good reason, you will have to pay damages as well.
In her previous life, Ottavio had married Camellia quietly. Although they bickered occasionally, they had many children and she remember that they had a pretty decent family life.
Ariadne pondered what had changed between her past life and this one.
The only thing she changed about her noble marriage when she came back into this life was breaking off her engagement to Cesare.
'It seems that Ottavio's sister is not in a relationship with Cesare in this life. Is something wrong because of that?'
That was too far off the mark.
'Or maybe Ottavio wasn't hanging out with Cesare in the capital, so he was doing something else during that time and met another woman...?'
Who would be his marriage partner? She wouldn't be someone he could meet through honest means. A courtesan? Or the daughter of a poor farmer?
Suddenly, like a flash, a thought crossed Ariadne's mind.
'Isabella!'
***
Camellia, who had been hugged by her friends in Ariadne's living room and cried for a long time, said goodbye to her friends, saying she would go back first.
She felt embarrassed to continue looking at her friends because she had cried so much in front of them. Plus, her eyelids were all swollen.
She planned to take a short walk in the gardens of the de Mare mansion to relieve her swelling before getting into the carriage and then going home.
Camellia, who had always been a pretty and kind daughter, disappointed her parents for the first time since she was born.
To be unilaterally notified of a breakup by her fiance! To Camellia, it felt like a failure to notice that she was lacking in femininity.
‘Is it because I’m ugly and old that Ottavio no longer loves me...’
Camellia, who was walking along Ariadne’s backyard with such thoughts, burst into tears again. If she wiped her hot eyes with her hand, her makeup would come off.
Even in the reception room, she desperately maintained her eye makeup by dabbing it with a handkerchief. She couldn't ruin it now.
“Sob sob...”
She walked blindly. As she walked briskly, Camellia bumped into someone. It was a man with a strong physique.
“Ahh!”
Camellia fell into the petunia flower bed.
“Are you okay?”
A slightly older man hurriedly looked at Camellia. He was not tall, but he had a well-built and sturdy appearance.
“Are you badly hurt?”
Camellia stared blankly at the man. It was her first time seeing his face, but he seemed strangely familiar.
But that wasn't the issue right now. Camellia groaned and mumbled.
“My ankle... my ankle hurts.”
“Oh, because of me.”
The middle-aged man took his time, wondering if he could leave Camellia alone, and then made a suggestion.
“I have some business to attend to here, but I think it would be best if you came back quickly... If it’s okay with you, I’ll take you to your home now. Which side is your home?”
Camellia still had no thoughts at this point.
***
Ariadne was climbing the hill of Toludo. It was nine o'clock at night, and she was alone, as the Moorish grandmother had advised.
Hehehe!
Her brown mare, stumbling upon an unexpected rock in the dark, lifted her forelegs and neighed loudly.
“Raphina, whoa whoa.”
Ariadne tried to calm the horse.
“It’s okay, it’s okay...”
Heheheehe!
But the horse raised its forelegs again and neighed, and Ariadne tightened the reins to pull back the bit.
Thud!
But when the reins were put under pressure, they snapped with a strange noise.
“Ahh!”
Ariadne instinctively grabbed the other rein, which was not broken, and at the same time, she grabbed the horse's mane and pressed her body against the horse's body.
Hehehe!
Raphina cried again, but she was a gentle horse by nature. When the horse sensed that her master was in danger, she stood still and took a deep breath.
As soon as the horse came to a complete stop, Ariadne jumped down from the saddle and examined the broken reins.
'At first glance, it looks like it's worn out and broken, but...'
But when the reins were put under pressure, they snapped with a strange noise.
“Ahh!”
Ariadne instinctively grabbed the other rein, which was not broken, and at the same time, she grabbed the horse's mane and pressed her body against the horse's body.
Hehehe!
Raphina cried again, but she was a gentle horse by nature. When the horse sensed that her master was in danger, she stood still and took a deep breath.
As soon as the horse came to a complete stop, Ariadne jumped down from the saddle and examined the broken reins.
'At first glance, it looks like it's worn out and broken, but...'
The bridles that the Count de Mare used in the de Mare mansion could not have been old. She examined the bridles carefully.
'This is...'
A finely sanded area was visible at the broken part of the bridle.
Although care was taken to make it look naturally worn, the rest of the harness was shiny new leather.
She stood there dumbfounded, rolling her head as she walked up the hill.
'Attempted murder...? Who on earth would do something like this...'
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout.
“We met at the top of the hill, so why are you lingering here?”
Ariadne looked back in surprise. The same old Moorish grandmother was swinging her cane and glaring at her.
“There’s no need to yell!”
Ariadne shouted back to hide her surprised heart. The Moorish grandmother smiled and answered.
“The only time people like us can raise our voices is at night. Please give us some time.”
She walked ahead along the path leading up the hill.
“Hey, come with me. The moon will rise.”
Ariadne roughly retied the broken rein to the bridle and quickly followed the grandmother as she climbed up the hilltop at a leisurely pace.
But even that didn't seem to please the Moorish grandmother.
“Have you ever eaten a snail that moves a little bit?”
Ariadne pouted.
“Snails are not our food.”
For some reason, she felt like she could act spoiled by this old lady. And the feeling itself was also unpleasant.
Snails are a traditional food of Gallico. Ariadne has been feeling very depressed since yesterday when she heard rumors circulating in the capital.
The rumor was that 'Prince Alfonso was already married to the Grand Duchess of Lariesa', and although Leo III desperately tried to keep silent, information was already spreading among those with a keen ear.
But it seems that the Moorish grandmother had no intention of enduring Ariadne's antics.
“You don’t even know the metaphor.”
She climbed to the top of the hill, giggling cheerfully and spreading her arms wide.
“Come on! Is there anyone here?”
Ariadne began to feel resentful of the Moorish grandmother's one-sided conversations.
“At this hour, there would be no one on top of the hill in Toludo!”
Even though she must have clearly heard the defiance in her voice, the Moorish grandmother still answered coolly.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Look up at the sky.”
Ariadne looked up at the sky as the grandmother told her.
Usually, the stars would shine brightly as if the universe were pouring down to the ground, but tonight, even though there were no clouds, the entire sky was dark and quiet.
“...?”
“Tsk tsk. There’s no moon.”
The Moorish grandmother took out glittering gold dust from her belt and sprinkled it all over the place. Then she waved her wand and drew squares from one pile of gold dust to another.
“Yes. Let’s talk.”
Ariadne had seen this behavior before.
On the day Lucrezia's maid died, a gypsy woman who had fled to the Moorish Empire had done the same thing, although the specific shape of the figure was different.
She nodded slowly.
“You’re real. You did a good job following me.”
“Then did you think I was fake?”
The offended old woman spoke curtly. Ariadne shrugged her shoulders.
“I’ve met a lot of scammers over the years.”
Since meeting the gypsy woman who had left for the Moorish Empire, Ariadne had met most of the gypsies and tarot readers who were said to have magical powers in the Etruscan kingdom.
What they said was usually similar.
They were the type who said, "If you offer sacrifices and pray to the gods, all your worries will be taken away because misfortune is coming."
She said she believed it with her mouth, but in reality, she was not letting her guard down. Ariadne asked the grandmother to test it.
“I had an embarrassing experience when I was coming up. The horse’s reins broke.”
Ariadne looked at the old woman carefully. If she were a liar, it would be obvious from her attitude when answering.
“I think this is an attempted murder. What should I do?”
Scammers often respond here by asking you to be sincere.
But the old woman answered abruptly.
“Don’t worry about such trivial things.”
“Is an assassination attempt a dirty thing?”
“It’s nothing in the big picture.”
The old woman said with a grin.
“Other than that, let’s talk about how you came back, regressor.”
The old woman said with shining eyes.
“No, a half-regressor.”
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