Sir Bernardino cautiously called Prince Alfonso.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
“It’s a small thing, but...”
What Sir Bernardino reported was that there had been a change in the date of the audience between Prince Alfonso, who was in captivity, and Cardinal de Mare.
“I heard that he had hurriedly gone up to the Great Hall in Trevero. The audience will inevitably have to be postponed until after he returns...”
Sir Dino read the question 'Why?' in the Prince's expression.
“It’s still a secret, but I hear that Pope Louis is in critical condition. Cardinals from all over the continent are gathering in Trevero. They’re supposedly there to pray for the Pope’s safe recovery, but...”
“Prepare for the Conclave.”
A conclave was a secret meeting of all cardinals to elect a successor to the previous pope after the death of the previous pope.
It is not known who voted for whom, and if a new pope was not elected unanimously, they were locked up and voted on again once a day until one was chosen.
“What exactly is the power structure right now?”
Pope Louis was only in his mid-fifties. He was not young, but he was not at an age where he would die of old age, and he was also known for his good health.
So naturally, there was no successor designated by the Pope, and no other candidate was actively working behind the scenes.
“There is a conflict between the Protestant party led by Pope Louis and the Catholic party led by Cardinal de Mare.”
The one with the greater number of members will be the next Pope.
“The cardinals of the Etruscan Kingdom, the Salamantine Kingdom, and the Gredo Kingdom tend to support the Catholic Church, but the rest... should all be considered Protestants.”
“The Northern Union is a new religion, no matter what.”
“Yes, Gallico could be seen as a somewhat floating vote.”
“I guess he became closely associated with the Pope through the temple.”
“That is correct.”
Alfonso snickered. Sir Bernardino, bewildered, reflexively looked into the mirror on the wall and examined his front teeth.
Even though he had praised the lady of the palace yesterday for her beauty, he felt sad because there was no response.
It turned out that he had lettuce stuck between his teeth, and he had been kicking off the covers in frustration as he went to bed. But now there was nothing between his teeth.
“Why are you laughing, Prince?”
"No."
But Alfonso, unaware of Sir Bernardino's fears, refused to say anything.
“Prince!”
Only at Dino's urging did Alfonso open his mouth.
“I did it because I thought that if he did well, Cardinal de Mare’s long-cherished wish might come true.”
“Yes? Cardinal de Mare’s long-cherished wish?”
Sir Bernardino hesitated for a moment and then asked.
“Election of the Pope?”
Alfonso only smiled and did not answer.
Gallico's close relationship with the Pope lasted only while the Pope was alive.
Their dealings ended with the end of the Yesak War or the Holy War.
To be exact, Pope Ludovico had only taken what he wanted and had not yet paid the price to Gallico.
And Pope Louis fell ill without having produced a clear successor.
That means there will be no next price to pay for Gallico's work—whatever that may be.
The wandering Lord Dino asked again.
“Why is this advantageous to the Etruscan cardinal?”
“Because Gallico would have been a real floating vote.”
Since Louis had no successor, the next pope elected from the Protestant side would be unwilling to repay the Gallico kingdom.
Because he had received nothing. If the Kingdom of Gallico wanted to receive anything from the Holy See, it would have to take on new debts.
It was a perfect situation for intervention at the level of the Etruscan kingdom. But now there was nothing that could be done, especially while sitting in San Carlo.
It would have been good to have prepared for this situation in advance, but Alfonso was only a Prince, not a Crown Prince.
This was his father's lot. Despite the double whammy of incompetence and ill-temper, the King of this country was Leo III.
Only then did the Prince ask.
“But why the Pope all of a sudden?”
The rewards for the service rendered after the death of the 'Pope' are much more important than why a man named Ludovico fell, how sad the people left behind must be, or whether the deceased settled his life well.
It was a hardship that had to be endured, characteristic of high status.
“He suddenly started vomiting blood and collapsed.”
Alfonso's expression hardened. Sir Bernardino answered immediately.
“Yes, they say they suspect poisoning.”
“Of course, the mastermind hasn’t been found yet.”
“Yes. How can there be a cool mastermind behind something like that?”
Alfonso gritted his teeth. Sir Dino guessed what the Prince was thinking.
He must have been thinking about Queen Marguerite. He quickly picked a lighter topic to lighten the mood.
“By the way, His Eminence Cardinal de Mare has missed out on a nice source of income.”
A look of curiosity appeared in Alfonso's eyes. Sir Dino cleared his throat. Phew, that's a relief.
“Why, there’s a popular wedding this weekend.”
Alfonso also remembered. She was the daughter of the wealthiest merchant and Baron in the kingdom, but in any case, it was the talk of the town that a noble girl was getting married.
The noblewoman was memorable because she was Ariadne's friend.
“I heard that Cardinal de Mare was supposed to officiate the wedding. I don’t know for sure, but I bet the fee was not cheap.”
The Prince suddenly threw out whatever came to his mouth.
“It’s a merchant’s wedding, but he must have some great connections.”
“I heard that the arrangement was made not through the merchant’s connections, but through the bride’s friends’ connections.”
It was only after hearing Sir Bernardino's answer that he realized that he had said this because he knew what he wanted to hear. Sir Dino asked.
“Sbe... will also come, but Your Highness, don’t you plan on attending?”
Sir Bernardino was unaware of the mess Alfonso and Ariadne's relationship had become after Lariesa and Elko each intervened.
He only knew of Alfonso's journey up to San Carlo through the snow when he was in the Etruscan kingdom, and of their sweet dates in his carriage, away from the public eye.
Alfonso smiled.
“How do I get there?”
Sir Bernardino, who had no idea where the Prince had been after skipping the Marquis of Guatirie's banquet a few days ago, only half-understood what the Prince was saying.
“I don’t think it would be right for Your Highness the Prince to attend a merchant’s wedding, do you?”
And he thought.
'What, is today the only day?'
Princess Bianca's debutante party was going to be held soon.
The empty mansion of the Duke of Taranto, which is being used as a wedding hall today, may once again welcome guests, as it is said that a grand ceremony will be held in the capital. It may even be the royal palace.
Most people living in the capital will attend that party. If it's meant to be, she'll probably come too.
Sir Bernardino thought so widely, not dreaming that it would become even more ironic.
“No, Isabella, honey. But this is a bit...”
“Why? Where can we not go?”
“No, I didn’t even get an invitation...”
“As for the invitation, Camellia would have sent it if she had known I was returning to the capital!”
Ottavio tried to stop his wife from barging into the wedding of his ex-girlfriend, Camelia de Castiglione, or from today on Camelia Vitelli.
“Camellia?”
To Ottavio, no matter how much he thought about it, this just didn't make sense.
Camellia had her fiancé stolen by Isabella.
No matter how close they had been in the past, Ottavio had never heard of a friendship that lasted even after losing a man.
Camellia was especially jealous and sensitive to calculating profits and losses, so this was even more unlikely.
“I don’t think the Camellia I know would do that.”
"What?"
Isabella's voice became harsh.
“You know Camellia better than I do.”
There was sarcasm in her tone.
“Ah. That’s right. I was just a friend—but you and Camellia were engaged, right? How many years was it? One year, two years, three years, four years... Oh my, eight years? Eight years? Since you’ve been together for eight years, you’re saying that you know Camellia the best?”
“Isabella..."
“You must have done everything you wanted to do after dating for eight years, right? If there was something between you two, it would definitely be hard to let it go. Right, honey?”
“Isabellaaaa..."”
“Honey, did something happen with Camellia before you got married?”
“There’s no way, honey...”
“You touched her? Just like you did to me...! Heh, heh heh...”
“No, no! I didn’t touch a single hair!”
“How can I believe that!”
“I swear to heaven I didn’t!”
“You did it to me too! You took off your garter belt right in the convent’s visiting room...”
“Don’t do that, don’t do that, honey.”
“You said you’d never do it again, but when I saw your face, you started to cry again... If we dated for 8 years, would you have just worn me out and left me?”
“I'll go!”
“You must have memorized all of her underwear, too?”
“I’ll go to Camellia’s wedding! I can just go!”
“Don’t even call her by that name!”
“I’m going to that... That... Fatty’s wedding! So don’t be mad, don’t cry, honey. Yes? Please!”
Ottavio's rebellion was thus suppressed, and he was now being dragged like an ox to the slaughter.
The route to the empty capital city of the Duke of Taranto was annoyingly short, and the Contarini family's carriage arrived at the palace gates in the blink of an eye.
'What if the security guard stops me?'
Ottavio broke out in a cold sweat. After all, they didn't have an invitation.
But the merchant class banquets didn't seem to require RSVPs as strictly as the gatherings of noble families.
The people who greeted the guests at the main gate were not from the Castiglione family, but were faces he had never seen before. They arrived in a luxurious carriage, dressed like wedding guests, and asked only simple questions.
“Are you here to attend the wedding?”
And Ottavio's wife, who had somehow become something more than just a brat, rolled down the carriage window and answered with a confident expression when the coachman could have answered instead.
"Yes."
“Please come in.”
Clunk, clunk!
She grumbled to the trembling Ottavio.
“The person I spoke to earlier, I think he is a servant of a noble family.”
When Ottavio did not answer, she asked herself the question.
“How do you not know my face? This is ridiculous.”
Isabella was determined to show the class of the nobility.
There was one social etiquette that she harbored a grudge against while living as the illegitimate child of a cardinal.
The rule was that 'a person of lower status cannot speak to a person of higher status first.'
Whenever Isabella attended a ball, she had to wait for Cesare, Julia, Cornelia, Felicite, and even Camellia to speak to her first.
But now she was a Countess, and Camellia was a commoner. Today, she was going to take out her grudge on her.
“Thank you very much for coming today. Please join us in congratulating the bride and groom on their new beginning from the bottom of our hearts.”
As they got off the carriage and entered the banquet hall set up in the mansion's garden, Isabella saw a tall man who seemed to be a butler bowing at a 90-degree angle.
Isabella didn't know his face—when CEO Caruso first began visiting the de Mare mansion to see Ariadne, he was nothing more than a tobacco smuggler, so Isabella had no interest in him—but he was today's groom, CEO Caruso.
Isabella walked proudly past CEO Caruso, not even making eye contact.
CEO Caruso looked at the pregnant woman, Isabella, with her bulging belly in surprise.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
“It’s a small thing, but...”
What Sir Bernardino reported was that there had been a change in the date of the audience between Prince Alfonso, who was in captivity, and Cardinal de Mare.
“I heard that he had hurriedly gone up to the Great Hall in Trevero. The audience will inevitably have to be postponed until after he returns...”
Sir Dino read the question 'Why?' in the Prince's expression.
“It’s still a secret, but I hear that Pope Louis is in critical condition. Cardinals from all over the continent are gathering in Trevero. They’re supposedly there to pray for the Pope’s safe recovery, but...”
“Prepare for the Conclave.”
A conclave was a secret meeting of all cardinals to elect a successor to the previous pope after the death of the previous pope.
It is not known who voted for whom, and if a new pope was not elected unanimously, they were locked up and voted on again once a day until one was chosen.
“What exactly is the power structure right now?”
Pope Louis was only in his mid-fifties. He was not young, but he was not at an age where he would die of old age, and he was also known for his good health.
So naturally, there was no successor designated by the Pope, and no other candidate was actively working behind the scenes.
“There is a conflict between the Protestant party led by Pope Louis and the Catholic party led by Cardinal de Mare.”
The one with the greater number of members will be the next Pope.
“The cardinals of the Etruscan Kingdom, the Salamantine Kingdom, and the Gredo Kingdom tend to support the Catholic Church, but the rest... should all be considered Protestants.”
“The Northern Union is a new religion, no matter what.”
“Yes, Gallico could be seen as a somewhat floating vote.”
“I guess he became closely associated with the Pope through the temple.”
“That is correct.”
Alfonso snickered. Sir Bernardino, bewildered, reflexively looked into the mirror on the wall and examined his front teeth.
Even though he had praised the lady of the palace yesterday for her beauty, he felt sad because there was no response.
It turned out that he had lettuce stuck between his teeth, and he had been kicking off the covers in frustration as he went to bed. But now there was nothing between his teeth.
“Why are you laughing, Prince?”
"No."
But Alfonso, unaware of Sir Bernardino's fears, refused to say anything.
“Prince!”
Only at Dino's urging did Alfonso open his mouth.
“I did it because I thought that if he did well, Cardinal de Mare’s long-cherished wish might come true.”
“Yes? Cardinal de Mare’s long-cherished wish?”
Sir Bernardino hesitated for a moment and then asked.
“Election of the Pope?”
Alfonso only smiled and did not answer.
Gallico's close relationship with the Pope lasted only while the Pope was alive.
Their dealings ended with the end of the Yesak War or the Holy War.
To be exact, Pope Ludovico had only taken what he wanted and had not yet paid the price to Gallico.
And Pope Louis fell ill without having produced a clear successor.
That means there will be no next price to pay for Gallico's work—whatever that may be.
The wandering Lord Dino asked again.
“Why is this advantageous to the Etruscan cardinal?”
“Because Gallico would have been a real floating vote.”
Since Louis had no successor, the next pope elected from the Protestant side would be unwilling to repay the Gallico kingdom.
Because he had received nothing. If the Kingdom of Gallico wanted to receive anything from the Holy See, it would have to take on new debts.
It was a perfect situation for intervention at the level of the Etruscan kingdom. But now there was nothing that could be done, especially while sitting in San Carlo.
It would have been good to have prepared for this situation in advance, but Alfonso was only a Prince, not a Crown Prince.
This was his father's lot. Despite the double whammy of incompetence and ill-temper, the King of this country was Leo III.
Only then did the Prince ask.
“But why the Pope all of a sudden?”
The rewards for the service rendered after the death of the 'Pope' are much more important than why a man named Ludovico fell, how sad the people left behind must be, or whether the deceased settled his life well.
It was a hardship that had to be endured, characteristic of high status.
“He suddenly started vomiting blood and collapsed.”
Alfonso's expression hardened. Sir Bernardino answered immediately.
“Yes, they say they suspect poisoning.”
“Of course, the mastermind hasn’t been found yet.”
“Yes. How can there be a cool mastermind behind something like that?”
Alfonso gritted his teeth. Sir Dino guessed what the Prince was thinking.
He must have been thinking about Queen Marguerite. He quickly picked a lighter topic to lighten the mood.
“By the way, His Eminence Cardinal de Mare has missed out on a nice source of income.”
A look of curiosity appeared in Alfonso's eyes. Sir Dino cleared his throat. Phew, that's a relief.
“Why, there’s a popular wedding this weekend.”
Alfonso also remembered. She was the daughter of the wealthiest merchant and Baron in the kingdom, but in any case, it was the talk of the town that a noble girl was getting married.
The noblewoman was memorable because she was Ariadne's friend.
“I heard that Cardinal de Mare was supposed to officiate the wedding. I don’t know for sure, but I bet the fee was not cheap.”
The Prince suddenly threw out whatever came to his mouth.
“It’s a merchant’s wedding, but he must have some great connections.”
“I heard that the arrangement was made not through the merchant’s connections, but through the bride’s friends’ connections.”
It was only after hearing Sir Bernardino's answer that he realized that he had said this because he knew what he wanted to hear. Sir Dino asked.
“Sbe... will also come, but Your Highness, don’t you plan on attending?”
Sir Bernardino was unaware of the mess Alfonso and Ariadne's relationship had become after Lariesa and Elko each intervened.
He only knew of Alfonso's journey up to San Carlo through the snow when he was in the Etruscan kingdom, and of their sweet dates in his carriage, away from the public eye.
Alfonso smiled.
“How do I get there?”
Sir Bernardino, who had no idea where the Prince had been after skipping the Marquis of Guatirie's banquet a few days ago, only half-understood what the Prince was saying.
“I don’t think it would be right for Your Highness the Prince to attend a merchant’s wedding, do you?”
And he thought.
'What, is today the only day?'
Princess Bianca's debutante party was going to be held soon.
The empty mansion of the Duke of Taranto, which is being used as a wedding hall today, may once again welcome guests, as it is said that a grand ceremony will be held in the capital. It may even be the royal palace.
Most people living in the capital will attend that party. If it's meant to be, she'll probably come too.
Sir Bernardino thought so widely, not dreaming that it would become even more ironic.
***
“No, Isabella, honey. But this is a bit...”
“Why? Where can we not go?”
“No, I didn’t even get an invitation...”
“As for the invitation, Camellia would have sent it if she had known I was returning to the capital!”
Ottavio tried to stop his wife from barging into the wedding of his ex-girlfriend, Camelia de Castiglione, or from today on Camelia Vitelli.
“Camellia?”
To Ottavio, no matter how much he thought about it, this just didn't make sense.
Camellia had her fiancé stolen by Isabella.
No matter how close they had been in the past, Ottavio had never heard of a friendship that lasted even after losing a man.
Camellia was especially jealous and sensitive to calculating profits and losses, so this was even more unlikely.
“I don’t think the Camellia I know would do that.”
"What?"
Isabella's voice became harsh.
“You know Camellia better than I do.”
There was sarcasm in her tone.
“Ah. That’s right. I was just a friend—but you and Camellia were engaged, right? How many years was it? One year, two years, three years, four years... Oh my, eight years? Eight years? Since you’ve been together for eight years, you’re saying that you know Camellia the best?”
“Isabella..."
“You must have done everything you wanted to do after dating for eight years, right? If there was something between you two, it would definitely be hard to let it go. Right, honey?”
“Isabellaaaa..."”
“Honey, did something happen with Camellia before you got married?”
“There’s no way, honey...”
“You touched her? Just like you did to me...! Heh, heh heh...”
“No, no! I didn’t touch a single hair!”
“How can I believe that!”
“I swear to heaven I didn’t!”
“You did it to me too! You took off your garter belt right in the convent’s visiting room...”
“Don’t do that, don’t do that, honey.”
“You said you’d never do it again, but when I saw your face, you started to cry again... If we dated for 8 years, would you have just worn me out and left me?”
“I'll go!”
“You must have memorized all of her underwear, too?”
“I’ll go to Camellia’s wedding! I can just go!”
“Don’t even call her by that name!”
“I’m going to that... That... Fatty’s wedding! So don’t be mad, don’t cry, honey. Yes? Please!”
Ottavio's rebellion was thus suppressed, and he was now being dragged like an ox to the slaughter.
The route to the empty capital city of the Duke of Taranto was annoyingly short, and the Contarini family's carriage arrived at the palace gates in the blink of an eye.
'What if the security guard stops me?'
Ottavio broke out in a cold sweat. After all, they didn't have an invitation.
But the merchant class banquets didn't seem to require RSVPs as strictly as the gatherings of noble families.
The people who greeted the guests at the main gate were not from the Castiglione family, but were faces he had never seen before. They arrived in a luxurious carriage, dressed like wedding guests, and asked only simple questions.
“Are you here to attend the wedding?”
And Ottavio's wife, who had somehow become something more than just a brat, rolled down the carriage window and answered with a confident expression when the coachman could have answered instead.
"Yes."
“Please come in.”
Clunk, clunk!
She grumbled to the trembling Ottavio.
“The person I spoke to earlier, I think he is a servant of a noble family.”
When Ottavio did not answer, she asked herself the question.
“How do you not know my face? This is ridiculous.”
Isabella was determined to show the class of the nobility.
There was one social etiquette that she harbored a grudge against while living as the illegitimate child of a cardinal.
The rule was that 'a person of lower status cannot speak to a person of higher status first.'
Whenever Isabella attended a ball, she had to wait for Cesare, Julia, Cornelia, Felicite, and even Camellia to speak to her first.
But now she was a Countess, and Camellia was a commoner. Today, she was going to take out her grudge on her.
“Thank you very much for coming today. Please join us in congratulating the bride and groom on their new beginning from the bottom of our hearts.”
As they got off the carriage and entered the banquet hall set up in the mansion's garden, Isabella saw a tall man who seemed to be a butler bowing at a 90-degree angle.
Isabella didn't know his face—when CEO Caruso first began visiting the de Mare mansion to see Ariadne, he was nothing more than a tobacco smuggler, so Isabella had no interest in him—but he was today's groom, CEO Caruso.
Isabella walked proudly past CEO Caruso, not even making eye contact.
CEO Caruso looked at the pregnant woman, Isabella, with her bulging belly in surprise.
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