Ariadne walked slowly between Duchess Rubina and Isabella, who was sitting at the head of the table.
In this arrangement, the only person she could speak to was Countess Isabella.
“Sister.”
It was a voice so warm. Ariadne deliberately chose a friendly title.
“Welcome back to San Carlo.”
Ariadne's voice filled the banquet hall. She had on a very affectionate smile.
A look of confusion appeared on Isabella's face.
“Huh, huh?”
Ariadne held Isabella's hand tightly, hers clad in thin summer gloves.
Isabella was also wearing silk gloves as the luncheon was held at the palace.
They both had the same thought: 'Thank goodness I didn't hold hands with that girl.'
But the lines and voices that came out were the complete opposite. The Queen of hypocrisy now was Ariadne.
“Oh... it’s so nice to see you after such a long time.”
Ariadne pretended to add something feminine and said something important while straining her stomach.
“My ‘brother-in-law’ suddenly invited me here for dinner, and it turned out to be a place my ‘sister invited me to’.”
She spoke with a heavy emphasis on keywords.
If you just listen to Ariadne's story, it seems like Isabella, who loved her younger sister dearly, arranged for a reconciliation between her sister and Duchess Rubina.
Although the ladies gathered at this banquet hall were all part of Duchess Rubina's group, they were not close enough to share all the secret details.
They began to exchange glances with an expression that said, 'Is that what it was?'
Ariadne, who had noticed the ladies' expressions, smiled with a sense of satisfaction and charged forward without giving Isabella a chance to refute her.
“Is the nephew in your stomach growing well? Is he healthy?”
If Isabella blurted out, "It's none of your business," she would end up being seen as a cruel older sister.
Isabella was already feeling burdened, worried that rumors would spread about her not contacting Cardinal de Mare at Camellia's wedding last time.
When she left home, she was confident, but she had already come to feel that the Countess, without the support of her family, would have many sorrows.
If even the story of cutting ties with her parents' home becomes official, her already bad reputation may become even more difficult to manage.
It was only after she got married that she realized that her belief that 'a woman's life starts with marriage' was wrong.
Isabella had no choice but to fall for Ariadne's inductive questioning.
“Yeah, yeah. He's healthy.”
“Is the baby born?”
“Because it’s the last month of the year, it’s lively.”
It was a warm conversation between sisters. Ariadne took advantage of the gap to insert the line she had been aiming for.
“I see. Then can I sit next to my nephew?”
Isabella closed her mouth, unable to answer. What other answer could she give here but 'yes'?
But that's an answer the Isabella, a mere ragtag crew, could never give.
In this arrangement, the only person she could speak to was Countess Isabella.
“Sister.”
It was a voice so warm. Ariadne deliberately chose a friendly title.
“Welcome back to San Carlo.”
Ariadne's voice filled the banquet hall. She had on a very affectionate smile.
A look of confusion appeared on Isabella's face.
“Huh, huh?”
Ariadne held Isabella's hand tightly, hers clad in thin summer gloves.
Isabella was also wearing silk gloves as the luncheon was held at the palace.
They both had the same thought: 'Thank goodness I didn't hold hands with that girl.'
But the lines and voices that came out were the complete opposite. The Queen of hypocrisy now was Ariadne.
“Oh... it’s so nice to see you after such a long time.”
Ariadne pretended to add something feminine and said something important while straining her stomach.
“My ‘brother-in-law’ suddenly invited me here for dinner, and it turned out to be a place my ‘sister invited me to’.”
She spoke with a heavy emphasis on keywords.
If you just listen to Ariadne's story, it seems like Isabella, who loved her younger sister dearly, arranged for a reconciliation between her sister and Duchess Rubina.
Although the ladies gathered at this banquet hall were all part of Duchess Rubina's group, they were not close enough to share all the secret details.
They began to exchange glances with an expression that said, 'Is that what it was?'
Ariadne, who had noticed the ladies' expressions, smiled with a sense of satisfaction and charged forward without giving Isabella a chance to refute her.
“Is the nephew in your stomach growing well? Is he healthy?”
If Isabella blurted out, "It's none of your business," she would end up being seen as a cruel older sister.
Isabella was already feeling burdened, worried that rumors would spread about her not contacting Cardinal de Mare at Camellia's wedding last time.
When she left home, she was confident, but she had already come to feel that the Countess, without the support of her family, would have many sorrows.
If even the story of cutting ties with her parents' home becomes official, her already bad reputation may become even more difficult to manage.
It was only after she got married that she realized that her belief that 'a woman's life starts with marriage' was wrong.
Isabella had no choice but to fall for Ariadne's inductive questioning.
“Yeah, yeah. He's healthy.”
“Is the baby born?”
“Because it’s the last month of the year, it’s lively.”
It was a warm conversation between sisters. Ariadne took advantage of the gap to insert the line she had been aiming for.
“I see. Then can I sit next to my nephew?”
Isabella closed her mouth, unable to answer. What other answer could she give here but 'yes'?
But that's an answer the Isabella, a mere ragtag crew, could never give.
Isabella's lips trembled, and several of the ladies sitting near Rubina stirred.
It seemed like this wasn't part of their scenario.
Finally, the final boss on that side came out.
“Countess de Mare.”
Duchess Rubina spoke first, her voice slow. Ariadne bowed her head in respect.
But there was no need to show courtesy. The response was so rude that it was almost a waste of manners.
“This seat is occupied. You cannot sit there.”
Duchess Rubina lifted her chin and pointed toward the back of the dining room.
“That guy’s seat.”
In the direction that Duchess Rubina pointed, there was a maid of lower rank of Duchess Rubina, holding something like a cushion as if hugging it.
“You are my favorite person these days.”
But if Ariadne was truly a favorite, she would not have made her stand up without first seating her.
Ariadne looked closely at the Duchess's maid and realized what Duchess Rubina was talking about.
'Crazy.'
The favorite of Duchess Rubina was a tiny French bulldog sitting on a cushion held by her maid, licking its paws.
Woof!
A gray dog the size of a palm barked majestically.
Its body was supported by its two front legs, and its standing posture was so majestic that it looked like it could guard the royal palace all by itself.
Rubina motioned to her maid to bring the puppy.
Rubina's maid, who was clearly of noble birth but was treated like a maid, approached her with a puppy in resignation.
Rubina said, carefully stroking the puppy with her long, delicate fingers.
“It’s so small and precious, I haven’t decided on a name yet. What do you think? Isn’t it cute?”
“...Yes, it’s cute.”
“A hundred times better than a person who doesn’t know her place.”
Rubina looked straight at Ariadne with blazing eyes.
“I heard that some one-night stand puppy accepted a position that was not suitable for her and she had no idea what to do.”
Ariadne did not back down, but stood firm and met Rubina's gaze.
It wasn't because there were any special moves. If she had lost here, it would have been the end.
'If Isabella is a thug, then Rubina is a real badass.'
The prospective mother-in-law in her previous life, whom she had never met before, was like an untamed beast. She was curious about the secret of how such a woman could survive in the palace for nearly 30 years.
Was it because Queen Marguerite was soft? If not, and if it was really because of her own excellence, Ariadne would have liked to have taken some private lessons on her talents.
Rubina continued to push Ariadne without stopping.
“Shouldn’t I, as an adult, teach this childish greed a lesson when it’s not suitable for her position or age?”
All the ladies in the banquet hall were staring at the two without even breathing.
“Duchess.”
Ariadne decided to fight back.
It would have been too much of a shock to openly say, “The Duke of Taranto hates you because you’re a mistress,” and Ariadne didn’t feel that confident.
Isn't she the illegitimate daughter of a Cardinal?
“If you are an elder, of course.”
However, Ariadne, who had been through a lot in the palace, could find three hundred more petty nitpicks against such a socialite Rubina. Without going too far...
“Shouldn’t you be feeding your subordinates generously?”
Ariadne smiled.
“I was clearly invited to lunch, but the hospitality was terrible. There wasn’t even a single seat to sit.”
Duchess Rubina called her maid with a calm expression.
“Deborah.”
The Duchess's maid placed the French bulldog, cushion and all, on a chair, and maids appeared on either side and set the dog's dishes on the table.
Ariadne frowned and watched the dog food being placed on the seat where she was about to sit, then spoke again.
“If you treat me like this, I will go back knowing that I did not get a chance to eat with Duchess Rubina.”
Rubina replied with a sneer.
“Why aren’t there any empty seats?”
She pointed with the tip of her chin toward the small side door through which the maids came and went.
“Over there, there’s a table just for guests.”
It was a small table the size of a dog sitting and eating.
In front of the dog table was a stool that was more like a footrest than a chair, and on the table was a crude dog food bowl-like dish.
It was with food that tasted like dog meat. Rubina raised the corners of her mouth.
“There are plenty of seats besides that one. If you don’t like it, try sitting somewhere else.”
The place where Ariadne cannot speak, or is holding out with the Marchioness de Guatieri and Countess Bartolini.
“Or, like you said, you can go home and listen to it.”
Ariadne finally realized that this was all a ruse to get her to go home and not attend the afternoon meeting.
Rubina was ultimately unable to obtain permission from Leo III to act as Princess Bianca's chaperone.
So now she was cornering Ariadne by behaving like a gangster.
When no one in San Carlo dared to become Bianca's chaperone, the Duke of Taranto, who had no other choice, knelt down and took her hand.
All you have to do is hold out for two hours without doing anything that will give the social parrots a hard time, and then you can get to the afternoon meeting.
But, sitting at a table with dog food on it was a situation that would have made any decent young lady run out of the house crying long ago.
Even the world's greatest Ariadne couldn't come up with a good plan when it came to this.
'You're eating that... with your eyes closed?'
Dog food? There's nothing she can't eat. When she lived on the Bergamo farm, that was her daily routine.
But her fingers trembled at the thought of the rumors that would spread through high society that Countess de Mare had been dragged to lunch by the Duchess of Rubina and eaten dog meat.
'Let's think, Ari. Let's think of something.'
Ariadne stood like a stone statue in Rubina's dining room, staring intently at the dog food bowl.
Isabella, who had changed her stance in the meantime, looked at Ariadne with a smiling face.
Occasionally, she would pet the French bulldog and whisper and giggle with the unknown lady sitting next to her.
***
Alfonso was returning from the training grounds after a morning training session with his knights.
As they were walking back to the Prince's palace through the central corridor of the main palace, wearing only simple leather armor and drenched in sweat, there was a commotion from somewhere.
No, it wasn't quite a commotion. There was no noise, no screaming, no objects crashing. There was just a heightened sense of tension.
It was a tension that would have been missed without the highly trained knights on the battlefield.
Alfonso looked back at Sir Manfredi, who was right behind him. He seemed to have noticed it too. Sir Manfredi nodded as he met Prince Alfonso’s eyes.
“It’s on the left.”
It was the same direction Alfonso felt. He went straight to the left without hesitation.
If it were a normal day, he might have just ignored it, but today, he had an animalistic feeling that something wasn't right.
The place where the tension was palpable was a small restaurant.
Boom!
Alfonso kicked open the door and burst in as if he were fighting a street fight in a war.
Following him, about ten knights who had just returned from training entered the restaurant.
The forty or so ladies gathered in the room greeted the new men with astonishment like children caught doing something bad.
The leader of the surprised ladies was Duchess Rubina.
“...Your Highness the Prince.”
Duchess Rubina reluctantly bowed. Prince Alfonso responded with a simple nod.
“...”
Alfonso looked around the banquet hall—a mere dining room, to his eyes—where an eerie silence reigned.
There was a woman who caught his eye. She was wearing a sparkling blue-purple dress, but the dress itself was not noticeable.
Beneath her elegantly braided black hair was her glossy skin, which seemed to glow from deep within.
The high nose extending from the round forehead, the large, clear green eyes, and the contrasting red, plump lips caught his attention, and would not let go.
“Ariadne.”
The banquet hall was abuzz with the sound of Alfonso calling her name, even though Rubina had only nodded silently.
Alfonso, who realized his mistake too late, pretended to greet her politely and handled the situation.
“...Countess Ariadne de Mare.”
Ariadne, dressed in a blue-violet dress, bowed gracefully like a loading bowstring.
“Your Highness Prince Alfonso.”
Alfonso smiled without realizing it. But the smile on his face only lasted a moment.
“...What an interesting meal.”
He looked back at Duchess Rubina.
The last thing his eyes looked at was the bowl of dog food, or rather dog porridge, placed next to where Ariadne had been standing.
Sir Manfredi, who had been lagging behind Alfonso, came out with a bang.
“Hey, is this some new appetizer I don’t know about? When I was in San Carlo, it was trendy to eat fresh salad with lemon and fish, but trends have changed a lot since I went to war.”
Sir Bernardino assisted him perfectly from the side.
“What was that? Health food? Isn’t that it?”
“Brown rice, oatmeal, boiled grains, something like that. Right?”
Sir Manfredi chuckled as he knew everything and was making fools of people while the ladies were at a loss.
Prince Alfonso had been staring at Duchess Rubina in cold silence for a while, then slowly opened his mouth.
“Or maybe...”
His expression was terrifying.
“Did you just bring in a guest and make a little circus?”
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