“...This is a really good opportunity.”
Ariadne quietly responded to Raphael's words. Thanks to Raphael's efforts, the Scuola di Greta was now beginning to settle down.
She had no reason to keep him any longer. Raphael had done his job well.
Besides, she had nothing more to offer Raphael: no career, no fame, no position in aristocratic society, nothing.
“Congratulations.”
Ariadne moistened her lips with her teacup.
Perhaps it was a good thing. There was only one thing left for Ariadne to give Raphael, but it was something she was unwilling to give.
If a fair deal is impossible, it would be better not to even start. That would be a fuse that could explode later on.
Ariadne had seen enough of such situations during her long life.
“When did you decide to leave?”
She did the math quickly. It wouldn't be easy to fill his empty spot.
The position of principal of Scuola di Greta was not originally one for a high-ranking person like Raphael.
She won't be able to find anyone like that, but she probably manage it somehow.
Her eyes had sunken, and Raphael, more than anyone else, was the first to notice the calmness.
“Where am I going?”
He closed his eyes prettily and smiled.
“This is my place.”
It was a sly, rabbit-like laugh, but Ariadne's fingers, which had been fiddling with her teacup, froze in place.
It was a gesture that suggested she neither expected nor in fact, hoped that he would remain.
The meticulous Raphael caught even the slightest movement. He learned that the expression “heart-pounding pain” was more than just a metaphor.
“The students at Scuola di Greta are so pretty.”
It was a lie. There were one or two children among them with he had developed a human connection, but he believed that people could not transcend their origins. Except for the woman in front of him.
“If I leave now, who will take care of the children?”
It doesn't matter who takes care of it. Anyway, they're the ones who will learn some math and work at the top.
“We are friends who learn differently every day, but there is a world of difference between having a good teacher and studying on your own.”
Raphael's guiding principle was that those who were destined to succeed could go off to plow the fields, and those who were not destined to succeed could not be taught even by the continent's greatest scholars.
They didn't really need a teacher for things like addition and subtraction. He firmly believed that anyone should be able to learn that much if they were given a book.
But now he could say anything, as long as he could keep his dark intentions from being revealed in front of Ariadne.
“Really... Are you okay?”
Ariadne asked cautiously. The distantness of her voice rang like thunder in Raphael's ears.
It even sounded like he didn't want to stay at school.
“If you miss this great opportunity because of me...”
"No."
Raphael pressed her again as if assuring her.
"No."
I want to stay with you. I want to live next to you, hearing your voice, seeing your laughter, and sharing the little things in life.
If he goes down the path of a priest, he can't come back. So he wants to live one more day, with some hope.
The sound of an honest heart lingered in his mouth and then disappeared. The aftertaste was bitter. If things continue as they are, this is a story that he will never be able to convey.
Raphael looked out the window with his mouth shut. Armed men, who must have been members of the Prince's Knights, were visible right outside the window of Ariadne's study.
He didn't like the Prince's Knights wandering around the de Mare mansion.
Raphael couldn't understand why those guys were hanging around here, and he even felt a little resentful towards Ariadne for letting that married man's men into the house.
But he dared not, as a captive, spit on her deeds. All he could do was pretend not to notice her pushing him away.
“...Whatever pleases your heart.”
His words sounded like both a pledge and a resignation, but one thing was clear.
Raphael de Baldessar did not accept Archbishop Guerin's offer, so his one-shot deal was still ongoing.
Preparations for the debutante ball of Princess Bianca of Taranto continued after the day when Alfonso, Ariadne, and the Duke's representatives first met.
The lineup was the same as usual: a Prince, a Countess, and the Duke's representative.
The drafting and execution were handled by Countess de Mare, and communication with the protagonist, the Princess of Taranto, was handled by the capital representative of the Duke of Taranto.
There was a lot to coordinate, so not only the drafter but also the intermediaries had a lot to do.
During this process, the Prince... just sat.
Although it was natural for him to make the final decision, he really didn't know anything about prom preparations.
He tried to participate wholeheartedly, but it soon became apparent that he had absolutely no talent in this area.
“Is that... Really necessary?”
“Your Highness. I’m sorry to say this, but... If I do that, I think Her Highness will cry.”
So he became something like a sack of barley that had been placed there and stood firm. If you had to assign him a role, he would be like a bodyguard.
“Your Highness, please get into the carriage.”
The Duke's agent didn't even realize that he had actually said the word 'please'.
“I was riding in a carriage, and there was this person, Your Highness, riding a horse and circling the carriage. It was like...”
It was as if he was using the heir to the throne as his personal right-hand man. Some people might brag about such things, but the Duke's agent was a timid person.
If the royal guards had come chasing him at the palace at any moment for the crime of insulting the royal family, he would have had no excuse.
The Duke's agent, who could not bring himself to say, "The Prince is like my bodyguard," looked at Ariadne with a sad face. It was to ask for some help.
But she pretended not to know. It was better for the Duke's agent to be a little uncomfortable than for her to be uncomfortable. The thought of riding together in a cramped carriage made Ariadne suffocate.
'What the heck?'
The man who firmly told her that their relationship ended because he had a woman to spend the rest of his life with continues to hover around her.
Alfonso rode his white horse around the white carriage in which Ariadne was riding as if he were really on guard against the enemy.
That wasn't all. Now, at the de Mare mansion, knights sent by the Prince were standing guard 24 hours a day, mixed in with the existing mansion guards.
Indeed, the elite of the royal army, honed in actual combat, could not even compare to the Countess's private soldiers in terms of discipline.
Standing guard in a place like this must have been a total chore for them, but the fact that they didn't show any sign of disliking it was proof of that.
Ariadne wanted to ask, but she didn't dare to ask yet.
The moment she asked him, "Why are you being so nice to me?" She was afraid that he would back away and say, "Oh, okay. I guess I crossed the line and was too kind. I'll be more polite from now on."
If she just closes her eyes, this moment will last. If she doesn't confess, they will stay around forever as friends.
She ended up making the same choice as Raphael without even knowing it.
Only the shrimp whose back was torn by the whale's back called out to the Prince in a pitiful voice.
“Degraded...?”
Ariadne quietly responded to Raphael's words. Thanks to Raphael's efforts, the Scuola di Greta was now beginning to settle down.
She had no reason to keep him any longer. Raphael had done his job well.
Besides, she had nothing more to offer Raphael: no career, no fame, no position in aristocratic society, nothing.
“Congratulations.”
Ariadne moistened her lips with her teacup.
Perhaps it was a good thing. There was only one thing left for Ariadne to give Raphael, but it was something she was unwilling to give.
If a fair deal is impossible, it would be better not to even start. That would be a fuse that could explode later on.
Ariadne had seen enough of such situations during her long life.
“When did you decide to leave?”
She did the math quickly. It wouldn't be easy to fill his empty spot.
The position of principal of Scuola di Greta was not originally one for a high-ranking person like Raphael.
She won't be able to find anyone like that, but she probably manage it somehow.
Her eyes had sunken, and Raphael, more than anyone else, was the first to notice the calmness.
“Where am I going?”
He closed his eyes prettily and smiled.
“This is my place.”
It was a sly, rabbit-like laugh, but Ariadne's fingers, which had been fiddling with her teacup, froze in place.
It was a gesture that suggested she neither expected nor in fact, hoped that he would remain.
The meticulous Raphael caught even the slightest movement. He learned that the expression “heart-pounding pain” was more than just a metaphor.
“The students at Scuola di Greta are so pretty.”
It was a lie. There were one or two children among them with he had developed a human connection, but he believed that people could not transcend their origins. Except for the woman in front of him.
“If I leave now, who will take care of the children?”
It doesn't matter who takes care of it. Anyway, they're the ones who will learn some math and work at the top.
“We are friends who learn differently every day, but there is a world of difference between having a good teacher and studying on your own.”
Raphael's guiding principle was that those who were destined to succeed could go off to plow the fields, and those who were not destined to succeed could not be taught even by the continent's greatest scholars.
They didn't really need a teacher for things like addition and subtraction. He firmly believed that anyone should be able to learn that much if they were given a book.
But now he could say anything, as long as he could keep his dark intentions from being revealed in front of Ariadne.
“Really... Are you okay?”
Ariadne asked cautiously. The distantness of her voice rang like thunder in Raphael's ears.
It even sounded like he didn't want to stay at school.
“If you miss this great opportunity because of me...”
"No."
Raphael pressed her again as if assuring her.
"No."
I want to stay with you. I want to live next to you, hearing your voice, seeing your laughter, and sharing the little things in life.
If he goes down the path of a priest, he can't come back. So he wants to live one more day, with some hope.
The sound of an honest heart lingered in his mouth and then disappeared. The aftertaste was bitter. If things continue as they are, this is a story that he will never be able to convey.
Raphael looked out the window with his mouth shut. Armed men, who must have been members of the Prince's Knights, were visible right outside the window of Ariadne's study.
He didn't like the Prince's Knights wandering around the de Mare mansion.
Raphael couldn't understand why those guys were hanging around here, and he even felt a little resentful towards Ariadne for letting that married man's men into the house.
But he dared not, as a captive, spit on her deeds. All he could do was pretend not to notice her pushing him away.
“...Whatever pleases your heart.”
His words sounded like both a pledge and a resignation, but one thing was clear.
Raphael de Baldessar did not accept Archbishop Guerin's offer, so his one-shot deal was still ongoing.
***
Preparations for the debutante ball of Princess Bianca of Taranto continued after the day when Alfonso, Ariadne, and the Duke's representatives first met.
The lineup was the same as usual: a Prince, a Countess, and the Duke's representative.
The drafting and execution were handled by Countess de Mare, and communication with the protagonist, the Princess of Taranto, was handled by the capital representative of the Duke of Taranto.
There was a lot to coordinate, so not only the drafter but also the intermediaries had a lot to do.
During this process, the Prince... just sat.
Although it was natural for him to make the final decision, he really didn't know anything about prom preparations.
He tried to participate wholeheartedly, but it soon became apparent that he had absolutely no talent in this area.
“Is that... Really necessary?”
“Your Highness. I’m sorry to say this, but... If I do that, I think Her Highness will cry.”
So he became something like a sack of barley that had been placed there and stood firm. If you had to assign him a role, he would be like a bodyguard.
“Your Highness, please get into the carriage.”
The Duke's agent didn't even realize that he had actually said the word 'please'.
“I was riding in a carriage, and there was this person, Your Highness, riding a horse and circling the carriage. It was like...”
It was as if he was using the heir to the throne as his personal right-hand man. Some people might brag about such things, but the Duke's agent was a timid person.
If the royal guards had come chasing him at the palace at any moment for the crime of insulting the royal family, he would have had no excuse.
The Duke's agent, who could not bring himself to say, "The Prince is like my bodyguard," looked at Ariadne with a sad face. It was to ask for some help.
But she pretended not to know. It was better for the Duke's agent to be a little uncomfortable than for her to be uncomfortable. The thought of riding together in a cramped carriage made Ariadne suffocate.
'What the heck?'
The man who firmly told her that their relationship ended because he had a woman to spend the rest of his life with continues to hover around her.
Alfonso rode his white horse around the white carriage in which Ariadne was riding as if he were really on guard against the enemy.
That wasn't all. Now, at the de Mare mansion, knights sent by the Prince were standing guard 24 hours a day, mixed in with the existing mansion guards.
Indeed, the elite of the royal army, honed in actual combat, could not even compare to the Countess's private soldiers in terms of discipline.
Standing guard in a place like this must have been a total chore for them, but the fact that they didn't show any sign of disliking it was proof of that.
Ariadne wanted to ask, but she didn't dare to ask yet.
The moment she asked him, "Why are you being so nice to me?" She was afraid that he would back away and say, "Oh, okay. I guess I crossed the line and was too kind. I'll be more polite from now on."
If she just closes her eyes, this moment will last. If she doesn't confess, they will stay around forever as friends.
She ended up making the same choice as Raphael without even knowing it.
Only the shrimp whose back was torn by the whale's back called out to the Prince in a pitiful voice.
“Degraded...?”
Alfonso chewed out the Duke's agent's complaint cleanly. They were almost at their destination anyway, so getting off and on would be a hassle.
“We have arrived at the palace.”
Sir Manfredi, who was riding on a brown horse behind Prince Alfonso, announced to the group in the carriage.
“Sir Bernardino says he has everything ready. Come in and take a look.”
He added like a host, supporting Countess Ariadne de Mare as she got out of the carriage.
“You can look at it comfortably, comfortably.”
Prince Alfonso, the real landlord, glared at Sir Manfredi, who was holding Ariadne's gloved right hand high with his left.
Sir Manfredi looked back at Prince Alfonso with a puzzled expression on his face.
He asked Alfonso to escort Ariadne until she got out of the carriage safely.
“Did you skip breakfast? Why are you feeling down?”
Alfonso bit his thick lips.
Manfredi, who is either terribly clueless or terribly quick-witted, is hard to tell.
Let's see you at training tomorrow, Manfredi. I won't let you live, Manfredi.
“That’s right, Your Highness. What you ordered is waiting inside.”
Sir Manfredi, unaware of his own fate, grumbled.
“My order?”
“That...”
Still, he must have had at least some sense, for Sir Manfredi whispered in Prince Alfonso's ear.
“You told me to prepare a change of clothes because you’ll sweat if you come in riding a horse.”
If he had said that out loud, Alfonso would have drawn the Holy Sword and chased after Manfredi without even waiting until tomorrow's training.
If you run to the parade ground, you can just run 40 laps around there.
Fortunately, Manfredi managed to convey this message out of Ariadne's ears—though he didn't know it—and he was saved from a terrible fate.
Alfonso answered with a frown.
“I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”
“Yay, yeah.”
As Prince Alfonso entered, it was now truly Manfredi's world.
He chattered incessantly as he guided Ariadne and the Duke's agent into the palace.
“There are two halls available for your use. Take a look around and choose the one you like better.”
Today, the Countess de Mare and the representatives of the Duke of Taranto came to inspect the hall of the palace, under the offer of Prince Alfonso to open it as the venue for the debutante ball of Princess Bianca.
The first step in preparing for a debutante ball was to decide on a location.
There is no such thing as a perfect venue, and many factors go into choosing a location.
'Does it have to be done at the palace...'
“That’s right, Your Highness. What you ordered is waiting inside.”
Sir Manfredi, unaware of his own fate, grumbled.
“My order?”
“That...”
Still, he must have had at least some sense, for Sir Manfredi whispered in Prince Alfonso's ear.
“You told me to prepare a change of clothes because you’ll sweat if you come in riding a horse.”
If he had said that out loud, Alfonso would have drawn the Holy Sword and chased after Manfredi without even waiting until tomorrow's training.
If you run to the parade ground, you can just run 40 laps around there.
Fortunately, Manfredi managed to convey this message out of Ariadne's ears—though he didn't know it—and he was saved from a terrible fate.
Alfonso answered with a frown.
“I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”
“Yay, yeah.”
As Prince Alfonso entered, it was now truly Manfredi's world.
He chattered incessantly as he guided Ariadne and the Duke's agent into the palace.
“There are two halls available for your use. Take a look around and choose the one you like better.”
Today, the Countess de Mare and the representatives of the Duke of Taranto came to inspect the hall of the palace, under the offer of Prince Alfonso to open it as the venue for the debutante ball of Princess Bianca.
The first step in preparing for a debutante ball was to decide on a location.
There is no such thing as a perfect venue, and many factors go into choosing a location.
'Does it have to be done at the palace...'
Ariadne wasn't really convinced by the idea of having a party at the Prince's palace.
However, the Duke's agent was very pleased to hear that he could rent the palace.
It was very rare for the palace to open its space to other people's parties, so it was a perfect way to display the power of the Dukes of Taranto to the outside world.
Ariadne also fully understood the Duke's thoughts. However, in her opinion, there seemed to be a better way.
As the party led by Sir Manfredi was walking along the corridor leading to the 'Hall of Stars', the main hall of the Prince's palace.
Sir Manfredi spoke to Ariadne, a man she did not know.
“Huh? Why are you back already?”
The man answered Sir Manfredi. It was a voice he had heard somewhere.
“I finished some personal business early.”
What caught Ariadne's eye was, first of all, the physical deformities of the insignificant man. He was missing one arm and one eye.
Apart from that, there was nothing unusual about him. He was so ordinary that he was unmemorable.
The palace was off-limits to those who were not of sound mind. The reason for this long-standing tradition was that it was considered inauspicious.
If a servant had a disability, he had to leave the palace, and his subjects were no exception.
If you had to find an exception, it would be someone who was a direct descendant of royalty or even a palace jester, but that man looked like neither of those two.
There was another reason why that ordinary man kept bothering her. He desperately searched her eyes while trying absolutely not to look at her.
There are movements of the eyeballs that can be felt even when the head is bowed.
Ariadne opened her summer fan to cover her face, as his gaze was unpleasant.
“It’s been a while since you’ve been out, so why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air, Sir Elko?”
Sir Manfredi laughed and clapped the one-armed man on the shoulder.
Comments
Post a Comment