“A tea party attended by His Majesty the King?”
Isabella's eyes lit up when she heard the schedule from Ottavio. As soon as she heard the story, she started rummaging through her closet and started to tremble.
“What dress should I wear? What jewelry should I wear? How is the lighting there? Is it natural light? What color should I wear to make my blonde hair stand out?”
And there was Ottavio, who was looking at her with a pout. But Isabella was so absorbed in her appearance that she didn't even notice her husband's expression.
Isabella, who had been searching the spacious dressing room for a long time, sighed loudly.
“I have nothing to wear!”
It was a firm declaration made after searching through a dressing room the size of a living room and kitchen connected to an average house.
There were over fifteen dresses she tried on and put away, and over ten pieces of jewelry she put on and put down.
And in proportion to the pile of dresses that were piling up, Ottavio's cheeks were covered with a grumpy expression, as if he was biting into a piece of candy. This was because he was sticking his mouth out.
“Should I go shopping?”
Isabella glanced at her husband as she said, "I'm going shopping," and only then did she realize something was wrong.
Because Ottavio's face was now distorted to the point where it almost resembled a bulldog.
Isabella suddenly changed her voice and asked softly.
“Why, what’s going on?”
Ottavio answered dryly.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
But Isabella was too smart to believe that. She watched her husband closely.
“It’s not like nothing is wrong. Why are you asking me if something is wrong, honey?”
It was a special aegyo that would normally make Ottavio's mouth drop open with a batting average of 1.000.
But now, Ottavio was in a special state where the more attractive his wife seemed, the more upset he became.
“Hey, tell me. Hey, man. How can a man be so petty and whiny?”
Isabella used a combination of coaxing, cajoling, and reprimanding.
This went down very well, but Ottavio couldn't maintain his current stance even after being told he was petty. He had to give some kind of answer.
Ottavio spoke here, paying careful attention to the tone of his voice and the pronunciation of each word, trying to appear as calm as possible.
“Cesare is also coming to that tea party.”
Isabella's eyes widened.
“Ah...”
Ottavio's temper suddenly became completely understandable. It was all her fault.
Isabella slowly put down the extravagant necklace she was holding.
Nevertheless, when Ottavio was still upset, she asked her husband a question in a soft voice.
“Honey, are you okay?”
"What."
Ottavio answered bluntly.
“No, I don’t really have to go to that tea party...”
It was a tea party attended by His Majesty the King, and she was madly greedy at the thought of showing off to everyone, but it was also essential to cut it off at an appropriate point to make it last.
She spoke without giving the subject.
“Honey, I’m afraid you might feel embarrassed to see his face...”
Isabella was careful to omit the subject, but Ottavio understood immediately. It was strange that he couldn't understand when that was the only thought in his head.
“What’s wrong with me seeing my friend?”
Ottavio spoke in a tone that was not at all okay. No, he thought he spoke, but in fact he shouted.
“Do you look down on male friendship? Do you look down on people so petty?”
Isabella shut her mouth as Ottavio's voice grew louder. Ottavio was incapable of rational conversation at the moment.
Isabella backed down meekly. Even though she had said she wouldn't go to the tea party, there was nothing she could do if she came out like that.
“...Okay. Do whatever you want.”
She quietly put the dress she had taken out back into the closet and then picked up the most modest and inconspicuous dress she had.
She put the clothes on her body and looked at herself in the mirror with a not-so-pleasant look.
Isabella thought that this was something that only novice nuns in a convent would wear. But then Ottavio rebuked her.
“Hey, are you really going to wear that?”
Isabella looked at her husband with wide eyes.
“Why is this?”
“Your chest is dug all the way to your belly button!”
"What?"
Isabella looked down at her dress in disbelief.
She originally had no confidence in her breasts, so she tended to emphasize her waistline rather than her neckline.
This dress was also boring - objectively speaking, it was something that could have been worn to any tea party at San Carlo without any problem.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Ottavio raised his voice in response to Isabella's question.
“You’re the weird one! Let’s see! Let’s see! That necklace too! Look at how shiny it is!”
“That’s why I put it down!”
“Huh? You were originally going to do that, right?”
After talking nonsense for a while, Ottavio finally blurted out his true feelings.
“You’re just trying to look pretty in front of Duke Cesare!”
He pretended to be his friend and insisted on calling him 'Cesare', but when he turned into a jealous man, he insisted on mentioning Cesare's title.
Isabella was breathless. It was really too much.
“Stop talking nonsense!”
“That’s nonsense! Then why are you still hanging up and taking down all those clothes? Explain to me!”
“I took everything out, so I have to hang it up again!”
“When did you ever clean up after yourself? You had the maid do it for you! You keep fiddling with it because you plan on wearing it!”
Isabella's great chaos did not end there. However, there was no law that said she had to die alone.
A couple is a community of shared destiny, so when one falls, the other follows.
Rather than saying that a strict causal relationship fits each and every detail, it is saying that it is like that in the big picture when looking at one's entire life.
“Count! Your Excellency the Count! We are in trouble!!”
The Contarini family's butler came rushing in without knocking, his face pale.
It was a bedroom where a couple was arguing. It was not a place for a butler to come in. Isabella, who was hurt, snapped.
“Are the servants of this house rude? Where do they think they are, barging in like that?”
However, the butler ignored Countess Contarini, who was acting as if she were someone else's family and reported straight to Ottavio.
“Re, the Remuin merchant has gone missing!”
"What?"
Ottavio, doubting his own ears, asked back.
“Uh, which Remuin merchant?”
There was only one Remuin merchant he knew, but if that one went missing, he was dead.
Ottavio waited for the butler's answer, desperately praying that a miracle would happen and that the missing Remuin merchant would turn out to be different from who he thought he was.
But the miracle was a miracle because it didn't happen.
“Zacharias Gentili, a merchant who ran a moneylending business on behalf of the former Count Contarini!!”
Ottavio froze on the spot. Countess Isabella looked around, unable to grasp the situation, with her husband standing there frozen like a statue.
“Who the hell is Zacharias Gentili? A usurer? What do you mean?”
The Contarini butler glared at his mistress with contempt. She was holding in her arms a pure white silk dress embroidered with silver threads all over the fabric.
Isabella de Contarini was the personification of luxury and pleasure.
“They say that 8000 ducats of gold that should have been returned to Baron Castiglione has gone missing!”
"What?"
When the story of the Baron of Castiglione came up, Isabella also indirectly realized the gravity of the situation.
The butler snapped at his pitiful mistress.
“If the Baron of Castiglione were to storm into our house tomorrow and take away all our jewels and all our furniture, we would be left speechless!”
Isabella's eyes grew as big as bells. She opened her mouth wide.
“Ottavio, what are you talking about!”
She nagged her husband.
“You have more money to pay back? Didn’t you already pay off your debt with 4,000 ducats?”
The bill that Camellia had prepared with the help of a lawyer was too difficult for Isabella to understand at a glance.
This was especially true at the time when she only wanted to hear hopeful scenarios.
Ottavio remained silent like a stone statue. Isabella continued to peck at her husband for a long time.
Ottavio, who had been nagging at her for a very long time, finally lost his temper and shouted, "Isn't it all your fault?" and screams, curses, and tears began to flow from Count Contarini's bedroom.
“Ahhhhh!”
Among dogs, the highest proportion was found in the trotters.
Isabella's eyes lit up when she heard the schedule from Ottavio. As soon as she heard the story, she started rummaging through her closet and started to tremble.
“What dress should I wear? What jewelry should I wear? How is the lighting there? Is it natural light? What color should I wear to make my blonde hair stand out?”
And there was Ottavio, who was looking at her with a pout. But Isabella was so absorbed in her appearance that she didn't even notice her husband's expression.
Isabella, who had been searching the spacious dressing room for a long time, sighed loudly.
“I have nothing to wear!”
It was a firm declaration made after searching through a dressing room the size of a living room and kitchen connected to an average house.
There were over fifteen dresses she tried on and put away, and over ten pieces of jewelry she put on and put down.
And in proportion to the pile of dresses that were piling up, Ottavio's cheeks were covered with a grumpy expression, as if he was biting into a piece of candy. This was because he was sticking his mouth out.
“Should I go shopping?”
Isabella glanced at her husband as she said, "I'm going shopping," and only then did she realize something was wrong.
Because Ottavio's face was now distorted to the point where it almost resembled a bulldog.
Isabella suddenly changed her voice and asked softly.
“Why, what’s going on?”
Ottavio answered dryly.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
But Isabella was too smart to believe that. She watched her husband closely.
“It’s not like nothing is wrong. Why are you asking me if something is wrong, honey?”
It was a special aegyo that would normally make Ottavio's mouth drop open with a batting average of 1.000.
But now, Ottavio was in a special state where the more attractive his wife seemed, the more upset he became.
“Hey, tell me. Hey, man. How can a man be so petty and whiny?”
Isabella used a combination of coaxing, cajoling, and reprimanding.
This went down very well, but Ottavio couldn't maintain his current stance even after being told he was petty. He had to give some kind of answer.
Ottavio spoke here, paying careful attention to the tone of his voice and the pronunciation of each word, trying to appear as calm as possible.
“Cesare is also coming to that tea party.”
Isabella's eyes widened.
“Ah...”
Ottavio's temper suddenly became completely understandable. It was all her fault.
Isabella slowly put down the extravagant necklace she was holding.
Nevertheless, when Ottavio was still upset, she asked her husband a question in a soft voice.
“Honey, are you okay?”
"What."
Ottavio answered bluntly.
“No, I don’t really have to go to that tea party...”
It was a tea party attended by His Majesty the King, and she was madly greedy at the thought of showing off to everyone, but it was also essential to cut it off at an appropriate point to make it last.
She spoke without giving the subject.
“Honey, I’m afraid you might feel embarrassed to see his face...”
Isabella was careful to omit the subject, but Ottavio understood immediately. It was strange that he couldn't understand when that was the only thought in his head.
“What’s wrong with me seeing my friend?”
Ottavio spoke in a tone that was not at all okay. No, he thought he spoke, but in fact he shouted.
“Do you look down on male friendship? Do you look down on people so petty?”
Isabella shut her mouth as Ottavio's voice grew louder. Ottavio was incapable of rational conversation at the moment.
Isabella backed down meekly. Even though she had said she wouldn't go to the tea party, there was nothing she could do if she came out like that.
“...Okay. Do whatever you want.”
She quietly put the dress she had taken out back into the closet and then picked up the most modest and inconspicuous dress she had.
She put the clothes on her body and looked at herself in the mirror with a not-so-pleasant look.
Isabella thought that this was something that only novice nuns in a convent would wear. But then Ottavio rebuked her.
“Hey, are you really going to wear that?”
Isabella looked at her husband with wide eyes.
“Why is this?”
“Your chest is dug all the way to your belly button!”
"What?"
Isabella looked down at her dress in disbelief.
She originally had no confidence in her breasts, so she tended to emphasize her waistline rather than her neckline.
This dress was also boring - objectively speaking, it was something that could have been worn to any tea party at San Carlo without any problem.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Ottavio raised his voice in response to Isabella's question.
“You’re the weird one! Let’s see! Let’s see! That necklace too! Look at how shiny it is!”
“That’s why I put it down!”
“Huh? You were originally going to do that, right?”
After talking nonsense for a while, Ottavio finally blurted out his true feelings.
“You’re just trying to look pretty in front of Duke Cesare!”
He pretended to be his friend and insisted on calling him 'Cesare', but when he turned into a jealous man, he insisted on mentioning Cesare's title.
Isabella was breathless. It was really too much.
“Stop talking nonsense!”
“That’s nonsense! Then why are you still hanging up and taking down all those clothes? Explain to me!”
“I took everything out, so I have to hang it up again!”
“When did you ever clean up after yourself? You had the maid do it for you! You keep fiddling with it because you plan on wearing it!”
Isabella's great chaos did not end there. However, there was no law that said she had to die alone.
A couple is a community of shared destiny, so when one falls, the other follows.
Rather than saying that a strict causal relationship fits each and every detail, it is saying that it is like that in the big picture when looking at one's entire life.
“Count! Your Excellency the Count! We are in trouble!!”
The Contarini family's butler came rushing in without knocking, his face pale.
It was a bedroom where a couple was arguing. It was not a place for a butler to come in. Isabella, who was hurt, snapped.
“Are the servants of this house rude? Where do they think they are, barging in like that?”
However, the butler ignored Countess Contarini, who was acting as if she were someone else's family and reported straight to Ottavio.
“Re, the Remuin merchant has gone missing!”
"What?"
Ottavio, doubting his own ears, asked back.
“Uh, which Remuin merchant?”
There was only one Remuin merchant he knew, but if that one went missing, he was dead.
Ottavio waited for the butler's answer, desperately praying that a miracle would happen and that the missing Remuin merchant would turn out to be different from who he thought he was.
But the miracle was a miracle because it didn't happen.
“Zacharias Gentili, a merchant who ran a moneylending business on behalf of the former Count Contarini!!”
Ottavio froze on the spot. Countess Isabella looked around, unable to grasp the situation, with her husband standing there frozen like a statue.
“Who the hell is Zacharias Gentili? A usurer? What do you mean?”
The Contarini butler glared at his mistress with contempt. She was holding in her arms a pure white silk dress embroidered with silver threads all over the fabric.
Isabella de Contarini was the personification of luxury and pleasure.
“They say that 8000 ducats of gold that should have been returned to Baron Castiglione has gone missing!”
"What?"
When the story of the Baron of Castiglione came up, Isabella also indirectly realized the gravity of the situation.
The butler snapped at his pitiful mistress.
“If the Baron of Castiglione were to storm into our house tomorrow and take away all our jewels and all our furniture, we would be left speechless!”
Isabella's eyes grew as big as bells. She opened her mouth wide.
“Ottavio, what are you talking about!”
She nagged her husband.
“You have more money to pay back? Didn’t you already pay off your debt with 4,000 ducats?”
The bill that Camellia had prepared with the help of a lawyer was too difficult for Isabella to understand at a glance.
This was especially true at the time when she only wanted to hear hopeful scenarios.
Ottavio remained silent like a stone statue. Isabella continued to peck at her husband for a long time.
Ottavio, who had been nagging at her for a very long time, finally lost his temper and shouted, "Isn't it all your fault?" and screams, curses, and tears began to flow from Count Contarini's bedroom.
“Ahhhhh!”
Among dogs, the highest proportion was found in the trotters.
“This is a fraudulent marriage!”
It was a line that would not have been strange if either of the couple had said it. Once again, screams, groans, and tears filled the Count Contarini household.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
The startled baby's cries joined in. It was chaos.
***
Alfonso had a satisfying end to his date with Ariadne. It had been a fantastic afternoon.
The woman in front of him was pretty, so her words looked pretty, and his cousin also looked pretty.
The fences of the stables were beautiful, and the sky over San Carlo was also beautiful. It was a perfect day.
It would have been better if they were alone without Bianca, but now that he's declared it out loud, maybe they can go on dates alone from now on.
Little did he know that he was avoiding his girlfriend's nagging about 'why you kept it a secret' simply because Bianca was there with him.
'In the past, meeting each other openly in the palace would have been unthinkable.'
Alfonso smiled happily.
When they dated in the past, they met secretly in places like carriages and deserted gardens to avoid other people's eyes. He felt really sorry for Ariadne about that.
Now he can walk down the street with confidence. His heart feels warm and fuzzy.
“Excuse me, Prince. I have received a reply from the Grand Duke of Odes...”
But his good mood was shattered by the news brought by Sir Bernardino.
“The meeting date we requested was rejected.”
Alfonso had been ignoring requests for a meeting from Gallico's side, or more precisely, from Grand Duke Odes's side.
From a strategic perspective, there was no need to obediently agree to their negotiations when the ransom had already been raised, and on the inside, he did not feel like meeting with Duke Odes and coordinating a date to bring Princess Lariesa to the Etruscan Kingdom.
But once he decided to date Ariadne, the relationship between the two changed. Now, it was Alfonso who was in a state of excitement.
He wanted to see Grand Duke of Odes as soon as possible and settle the matter of the damned marriage contract.
“What the hell is the problem?”
Alfonso asked with a frown.
“Wasn’t he the one who was begging to meet me just a month and a half ago?”
The timing was not right for the fact that his relationship with Ariadne had become known even to Gallico.
Because it hasn't even been half a day since he made his public declaration of love.
But it was only natural that it would be better to finalize the marriage contract before this matter reached the ears of the Grand Duke of Odes.
“That’s... I found out through another route, but I heard that Philip IV’s health is not good.”
"Health?"
Alfonso's expression became ambiguous.
“Is it because the King suddenly dies and there is a fear that something like a change of throne will happen, so they can’t leave the palace?”
“Similar, but a little different.”
In a good way, it was 'health'. To explain it in more detail, it would be 'mental health'.
Philip IV's madness was getting worse by the day. He was said to be making ridiculous demands and causing trouble at the palace.
“Don’t you know what that request is?”
“Yes, that’s fine...”
Alfonso could not understand what order the King could issue from his own palace that would be dismissed as an 'absurd demand'.
Even Leo III, whose royal authority was not very strong, lived very well while committing countless absurd acts.
“So, considering all the circumstances, it seems that Grand Duke Odes cannot leave Philip IV’s side even for a moment.”
It may be because while Grand Duke Odes is away, something that Philip IV demands will be done.
“The meeting place we requested was the borderline...”
“Yes. It would be absurd for a sick King to come all the way to the border, so Grand Duke Odes is being held captive in the palace of Montpellier.”
“But it’s not like we’ve been hit in the head with a cannon, so we won’t be going back to the Palace of Montpellier.”
“That's correct.”
Alfonso's mood was low. He wanted to clear the space next to him as soon as possible so that he could present Ariadne with the Princess's crown.
“Get in touch with them again. Find a way. If Grand Duke Odes himself can’t come, send out the second-in-command or tell them to send the person with the authority to take responsibility quickly.”
If Alfonso had known what Cesare was saying to Ariadne at lunchtime today, he would have packed his bags and gone to the palace in Montpellier.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Alfonso didn't know that yet.
However, Duchess Rubina, who was planning to give poisoned apples to Count and Countess Contarini, had no intention of leaving Prince Alfonso and Countess Ariadne de Mare alone.
Duchess Rubina was born a scorpion. Scorpions sting regardless of their own merits. They live as they are born.
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