And now, as if by magic, the amount Ariadne had called came out of Leo III's mouth.
“Let’s do 35 percent.”
Alfonso swallowed. Leo III watched his son's expression with smiling eyes.
The King deliberately imposed a high tax on his son that the merchants found difficult to accept.
He wanted to find out how much his son was connected to the merchant class.
If they were tied together by a single transaction, Prince Alfonso would not be able to accept the King's offer here.
This is because, as a kind of pants president, he has no authority and must go back, deliver the money, get approval, and return.
On the other hand, if the merchant class had already made considerable progress in supporting Prince Alfonso, his son could have accepted the King's offer right away.
Because he has the final say.
Leo III waited patiently for his son's reaction. He was sure that Alfonso would not accept this offer.
His son had just returned from a trip abroad, and frankly, he didn't seem to have much talent for plotting.
There was no way that such a solid support base could have been established in such a short period of time.
Being upright and orderly was not, in Leo III's opinion, a trait that was conducive to governance, even if it was cool.
Leo III smiled and tried to shoo his son away.
“Yes, let me think about it some more...”
"No."
So he was quite taken aback when Alfonso came out and struck him with a firm tone.
"What?"
Alfonso answered honestly and without wavering.
“I will take 35 percent.”
Leo III couldn't believe his ears. This was a surprise attack. The expression on the old rabbit's face, which was extremely experienced, cracked.
Alfonso asked calmly.
“Is there a problem?”
Leo III stopped short of asking Alfonso whether it was really possible to charge that rate. It was a pointless question.
'Alfonso has already built up his support base so solidly?'
Leo III's mind began to spin.
He originally did not intend to grant Alfonso's request.
The money coming in from the free city of Unaisola was quite a lot, but it wasn't enough to turn the tables.
If you think about how angry the great lords would be and how much of a headache it would be if they heard this, it wasn't a good deal.
'How dare that bastard...'
Leo III's hands trembled. But suddenly the perfect plan occurred to him. It was hard to even say it occurred to him. It was such an obvious process.
Adding one more trick to Alfonso's restrictions resulted in a picturesque combination.
“What kind of problem is that?”
Leo III quickly collected his expression and smiled kindly.
“They say even 35 percent is good. The merchants’ desire for freedom is truly great.”
Alfonso kept a gentle expression and did not say a word to his father.
“The desire for freedom? It is an expression of loyalty to His Majesty the King.”
Although he hated the sight of him talking back so bluntly, the King held back as he waited for an opportunity to use his shallowness.
“Yeah, loyalty.”
Leo III hesitated a little, and Prince Alfonso waited calmly for the King's decision without any wavering. He also did not please the King.
But there was no other way. Leo III had no choice but to give Alfonso what he wanted.
“I hereby appoint the autonomous city of Unaisola as a free city loyal only to the King.”
His young son returned after wandering for a long time in a land filled with nothing but palm trees and sand, completely lost to the world.
He had no way of obeying or being obedient. He did not satisfy his father.
“Our people, the people of Unaisola, will not forget this favor.”
Alfonso bowed his head. This too seemed like a forced, empty declaration of surrender, and he was disgusted.
Leo III suddenly began to dislike everything about Alfonso.
He was displeased that he had dared to declare that he had married the Grand Duchess of Lariesa without my permission, and he was even more displeased that he suddenly declared that he would not marry the Grand Duchess and was seeing Countess de Mare.
The reason Leo III did not say a word there was purely because of what he had done in the past.
He didn't like it, and he told him to meet a woman from a better family. He was worried that he would hear things like, "She's the woman my father wanted too, but she's not my class. How dare I?" or get beaten up for no good reason.
But then suddenly he became very dissatisfied with the fact that he had overlooked it and let it slide. He should have prevented that declaration from being made at that time.
Alfonso's declaration of marriage on his own initiative and then his revocation of it and insistence on courtship were an act of utter disregard for his father.
Although Leo III rationalized his feelings in this way, he actually felt a very strong jealousy towards his own son.
He hated the fact that he was young and handsome, that he was physically superior, and that he had the woman he desired.
But what is good about being King? Leo III was both King and father of Alfonso, and both positions had a great deal of power.
“I am satisfied that the people of Unaisola will find this decision gracious.”
Leo III smiled. It was a very mean gesture.
'And the nobles will not forget this grudge.'
Unaisola becoming a free city will have a huge ripple effect on the region. It will work towards weakening the power of the great lords.
Leo III decided to take advantage of this opportunity to strike a blow against the feudal lords.
And he decided to place the blame on Prince Alfonso.
'I am holding on so well, and yet you dare threaten my throne?'
He found himself tapping his nails impatiently on the ebony table without realizing it.
'That won't do.'
A King with no choice began to be jealous of those he should not be jealous of.
The rumor spread throughout the capital that Duke Cesare had asked the King to make him his special envoy to Trevero, and that the King had nevertheless chosen Prince Alfonso as his special envoy.
This may have raised suspicions at first glance that Leo III was being a loose talker, but in a rare instance, the King was wronged this time.
The rumor naturally arose because Duchess Rubina, convinced that Cesare would go to Trevero, was careless in ordering a large number of clothes for her son from the Collezione costume shop.
“Did you hear that? That Duke Cesare had even asked to be sent, but His Majesty decided to send Prince Alfonso instead?”
“There is no one who has ears who has not heard. So why did you make such a decision?”
“I mean! Does His Majesty the King trust Prince Alfonso so much? So much so that he would arrest and send away anyone he dislikes?”
“That’s right. Even the heir to the throne is being driven out of the country again.”
“Now that he is in fact the victorious general of the temple, who would dare touch Prince Alfonso?”
“That’s true.”
The general opinion in the capital was that Leo III had great confidence in Prince Alfonso, while Duke Cesare was not trusted.
'Shit!'
Cesare gritted his teeth so as not to be noticed by others.
He was on his way to the Basilica of Saint Ercole to attend the monthly mass.
When the people gathered in the square in front of the Basilica seemed to be gossiping about him, he kept his posture on his black horse, Leopoldo, more upright and raised his head to the sky.
The Great Worship Service was truly a headache. It was held once a month, so it was quite frequent and difficult to miss.
He considered claiming illness and not attending, but he couldn't do that because he thought people would start talking like a defeated dog biting its tail in his absence.
So instead of avoiding the defeated dog, he entered the Basilica with an expression on his face like an ox being dragged to the slaughterhouse.
As the Duke of Pisano's beautiful black horse appeared, the people who filled the square parted to make way.
The Duke of Pisano was a man who was expected to get out of the way, and his foul temper was well known in the capital—mainly due to the mischief he had committed in his youth, Cesare thought, but others did not consider it mere pranks—so it was better to get out of the way quickly if one did not want to be run over.
But the waves of people that had parted like the Red Sea in front of Cesare distorted into a slightly different shape.
It looked like another wave at a 45-degree angle had intervened in the waterway that was beautifully forming at a 90-degree angle.
And to Cesare's displeasure, the height of this second wave was higher than his.
'What kind of kid are you?'
Cesare's head turned sharply. It seemed as if someone of high rank was entering with him.
His curiosity was satisfied two or three seconds faster than he could see the person entering.
“The Prince is coming!”
There was something admirable about that cry. It was likely that the person who shouted it felt sorry for the person he was seeing.
“Prince Alfonso?!”
“The Prince is coming?!”
“Our Prince! The next King!”
The feeling spread throughout the crowd.
In a gesture full of respect and affection, quite different from the one they had shown when making way for Duke Cesare, the people of the capital gave space to their future monarch.
And the attitude of the object of that affection was completely different from Cesare's.
Prince Alfonso, riding on a white horse as big as himself, looked into the eyes of each and every citizen who gave him a seat and expressed his gratitude.
“Alfonso! Alfonso!”
“Your Highness! May you live long and prosper!”
This sight filled Cesare with indescribable sorrow. He sat on his black horse with a distorted expression and glared at Alfonso.
He was left with little choice as the crowd of people pushing to make way for Alfonso blocked his path.
The opponent, who only had to go straight into the Basilica on a smooth road, noticed Duke Cesare's presence a little late.
Prince Alfonso sat on his white horse, staring blankly at his half-brother in the striking contrast of black and red, then gently steered his horse in his direction.
Cesare clenched his teeth even harder.
He didn't want to face Alfonso, so he looked for a way out, but there was no place to escape. The new Alfonso leisurely walked along the path that others had prepared and stood in front of Cesare.
“...The Duke of Pisano.”
A dry title that is neither ‘brother’ nor a name.
“Let’s talk for a moment.”
“Let’s do 35 percent.”
Alfonso swallowed. Leo III watched his son's expression with smiling eyes.
The King deliberately imposed a high tax on his son that the merchants found difficult to accept.
He wanted to find out how much his son was connected to the merchant class.
If they were tied together by a single transaction, Prince Alfonso would not be able to accept the King's offer here.
This is because, as a kind of pants president, he has no authority and must go back, deliver the money, get approval, and return.
On the other hand, if the merchant class had already made considerable progress in supporting Prince Alfonso, his son could have accepted the King's offer right away.
Because he has the final say.
Leo III waited patiently for his son's reaction. He was sure that Alfonso would not accept this offer.
His son had just returned from a trip abroad, and frankly, he didn't seem to have much talent for plotting.
There was no way that such a solid support base could have been established in such a short period of time.
Being upright and orderly was not, in Leo III's opinion, a trait that was conducive to governance, even if it was cool.
Leo III smiled and tried to shoo his son away.
“Yes, let me think about it some more...”
"No."
So he was quite taken aback when Alfonso came out and struck him with a firm tone.
"What?"
Alfonso answered honestly and without wavering.
“I will take 35 percent.”
Leo III couldn't believe his ears. This was a surprise attack. The expression on the old rabbit's face, which was extremely experienced, cracked.
Alfonso asked calmly.
“Is there a problem?”
Leo III stopped short of asking Alfonso whether it was really possible to charge that rate. It was a pointless question.
'Alfonso has already built up his support base so solidly?'
Leo III's mind began to spin.
He originally did not intend to grant Alfonso's request.
The money coming in from the free city of Unaisola was quite a lot, but it wasn't enough to turn the tables.
If you think about how angry the great lords would be and how much of a headache it would be if they heard this, it wasn't a good deal.
'How dare that bastard...'
Leo III's hands trembled. But suddenly the perfect plan occurred to him. It was hard to even say it occurred to him. It was such an obvious process.
Adding one more trick to Alfonso's restrictions resulted in a picturesque combination.
“What kind of problem is that?”
Leo III quickly collected his expression and smiled kindly.
“They say even 35 percent is good. The merchants’ desire for freedom is truly great.”
Alfonso kept a gentle expression and did not say a word to his father.
“The desire for freedom? It is an expression of loyalty to His Majesty the King.”
Although he hated the sight of him talking back so bluntly, the King held back as he waited for an opportunity to use his shallowness.
“Yeah, loyalty.”
Leo III hesitated a little, and Prince Alfonso waited calmly for the King's decision without any wavering. He also did not please the King.
But there was no other way. Leo III had no choice but to give Alfonso what he wanted.
“I hereby appoint the autonomous city of Unaisola as a free city loyal only to the King.”
His young son returned after wandering for a long time in a land filled with nothing but palm trees and sand, completely lost to the world.
He had no way of obeying or being obedient. He did not satisfy his father.
“Our people, the people of Unaisola, will not forget this favor.”
Alfonso bowed his head. This too seemed like a forced, empty declaration of surrender, and he was disgusted.
Leo III suddenly began to dislike everything about Alfonso.
He was displeased that he had dared to declare that he had married the Grand Duchess of Lariesa without my permission, and he was even more displeased that he suddenly declared that he would not marry the Grand Duchess and was seeing Countess de Mare.
The reason Leo III did not say a word there was purely because of what he had done in the past.
He didn't like it, and he told him to meet a woman from a better family. He was worried that he would hear things like, "She's the woman my father wanted too, but she's not my class. How dare I?" or get beaten up for no good reason.
But then suddenly he became very dissatisfied with the fact that he had overlooked it and let it slide. He should have prevented that declaration from being made at that time.
Alfonso's declaration of marriage on his own initiative and then his revocation of it and insistence on courtship were an act of utter disregard for his father.
Although Leo III rationalized his feelings in this way, he actually felt a very strong jealousy towards his own son.
He hated the fact that he was young and handsome, that he was physically superior, and that he had the woman he desired.
But what is good about being King? Leo III was both King and father of Alfonso, and both positions had a great deal of power.
“I am satisfied that the people of Unaisola will find this decision gracious.”
Leo III smiled. It was a very mean gesture.
'And the nobles will not forget this grudge.'
Unaisola becoming a free city will have a huge ripple effect on the region. It will work towards weakening the power of the great lords.
Leo III decided to take advantage of this opportunity to strike a blow against the feudal lords.
And he decided to place the blame on Prince Alfonso.
'I am holding on so well, and yet you dare threaten my throne?'
He found himself tapping his nails impatiently on the ebony table without realizing it.
'That won't do.'
A King with no choice began to be jealous of those he should not be jealous of.
***
The rumor spread throughout the capital that Duke Cesare had asked the King to make him his special envoy to Trevero, and that the King had nevertheless chosen Prince Alfonso as his special envoy.
This may have raised suspicions at first glance that Leo III was being a loose talker, but in a rare instance, the King was wronged this time.
The rumor naturally arose because Duchess Rubina, convinced that Cesare would go to Trevero, was careless in ordering a large number of clothes for her son from the Collezione costume shop.
“Did you hear that? That Duke Cesare had even asked to be sent, but His Majesty decided to send Prince Alfonso instead?”
“There is no one who has ears who has not heard. So why did you make such a decision?”
“I mean! Does His Majesty the King trust Prince Alfonso so much? So much so that he would arrest and send away anyone he dislikes?”
“That’s right. Even the heir to the throne is being driven out of the country again.”
“Now that he is in fact the victorious general of the temple, who would dare touch Prince Alfonso?”
“That’s true.”
The general opinion in the capital was that Leo III had great confidence in Prince Alfonso, while Duke Cesare was not trusted.
'Shit!'
Cesare gritted his teeth so as not to be noticed by others.
He was on his way to the Basilica of Saint Ercole to attend the monthly mass.
When the people gathered in the square in front of the Basilica seemed to be gossiping about him, he kept his posture on his black horse, Leopoldo, more upright and raised his head to the sky.
The Great Worship Service was truly a headache. It was held once a month, so it was quite frequent and difficult to miss.
He considered claiming illness and not attending, but he couldn't do that because he thought people would start talking like a defeated dog biting its tail in his absence.
So instead of avoiding the defeated dog, he entered the Basilica with an expression on his face like an ox being dragged to the slaughterhouse.
As the Duke of Pisano's beautiful black horse appeared, the people who filled the square parted to make way.
The Duke of Pisano was a man who was expected to get out of the way, and his foul temper was well known in the capital—mainly due to the mischief he had committed in his youth, Cesare thought, but others did not consider it mere pranks—so it was better to get out of the way quickly if one did not want to be run over.
But the waves of people that had parted like the Red Sea in front of Cesare distorted into a slightly different shape.
It looked like another wave at a 45-degree angle had intervened in the waterway that was beautifully forming at a 90-degree angle.
And to Cesare's displeasure, the height of this second wave was higher than his.
'What kind of kid are you?'
Cesare's head turned sharply. It seemed as if someone of high rank was entering with him.
His curiosity was satisfied two or three seconds faster than he could see the person entering.
“The Prince is coming!”
There was something admirable about that cry. It was likely that the person who shouted it felt sorry for the person he was seeing.
“Prince Alfonso?!”
“The Prince is coming?!”
“Our Prince! The next King!”
The feeling spread throughout the crowd.
In a gesture full of respect and affection, quite different from the one they had shown when making way for Duke Cesare, the people of the capital gave space to their future monarch.
And the attitude of the object of that affection was completely different from Cesare's.
Prince Alfonso, riding on a white horse as big as himself, looked into the eyes of each and every citizen who gave him a seat and expressed his gratitude.
“Alfonso! Alfonso!”
“Your Highness! May you live long and prosper!”
This sight filled Cesare with indescribable sorrow. He sat on his black horse with a distorted expression and glared at Alfonso.
He was left with little choice as the crowd of people pushing to make way for Alfonso blocked his path.
The opponent, who only had to go straight into the Basilica on a smooth road, noticed Duke Cesare's presence a little late.
Prince Alfonso sat on his white horse, staring blankly at his half-brother in the striking contrast of black and red, then gently steered his horse in his direction.
Cesare clenched his teeth even harder.
He didn't want to face Alfonso, so he looked for a way out, but there was no place to escape. The new Alfonso leisurely walked along the path that others had prepared and stood in front of Cesare.
“...The Duke of Pisano.”
A dry title that is neither ‘brother’ nor a name.
“Let’s talk for a moment.”
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