After leaving the Basilica of Saint Ercole behind with the King and his 'sister-in-law', Ariadne boarded the carriage with Alfonso's help.
She sat in the back seat of the carriage, counting the days as it headed toward the de Mare household. Alfonso asked Ariadne, who was lost in thought.
“What are you thinking about?”
“...I wonder how many days it will take for the conclave to end.”
The conclave, the meeting to elect the next Pope, must reach a unanimous decision. Naturally, reaching a conclusion was not easy.
Some conclaves have lasted ridiculously long, the longest being two years, eight months, and 11 days.
Because the meeting to decide the next Pope was so drawn out that it would have caused many problems, the Holy See reorganized the conclave rules several times in order to reach a quick conclusion.
The most effective institution was the food restriction rule introduced at the Council of Utterbo.
The Council of Utterbo, despite much opposition, passed through a brutal reform that banned all food and drink except for a minimum of water and bread into the conclave a week after the Cardinals entered session.
This institutional improvement brought about significant time savings.
Nevertheless, in cases where the conflict was sharp, the College of Cardinals held out indefinitely, even while starving.
Recently, a reform was implemented to change the voting system from once a day to twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon.
It was to speed up the pace at which discussions unfolded internally.
But despite all these devices, it was still difficult to say for sure when the conclave would end.
Alfonso stretched deeply.
“Won’t you come out sooner than I thought?”
It was a deliberately more relaxed movement than usual. Alfonso did not want Ariadne to become depressed by being buried in a problem that had no answer.
“Normally, they say to expect it to take about a week, but this time, there are no differing opinions. One or two days? Three days?”
The fact that the conclave ended in a week means that it was concluded quite quickly. Even if things went smoothly, it usually takes a week.
Ariadne smiled slightly as she realized that Alfonso had called her on such a short date to cheer her up.
"Thank you."
Ariadne rubbed her cheek against Alfonso's. Alfonso shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea what she was thankful for.
If the conclave was her concern, Alfonso's concern was Leo III's temper.
In fact, today was a day when Alfonso's worries were more prominent. She asked.
“Your Highness, your mood is more subdued than usual. What has happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
Alfonso stroked Ariadne's hair. He didn't really want to talk about such things.
Ariadne showed her affection and kindness by sharing her worries with him, but Alfonso did not want to take his worries to his woman.
But her green eyes were not filled with worry with that answer alone.
His wife, yes, his wife, was too sensitive to be comfortable, and too smart to be fooled.
Now, whether they like it or not, they are in a situation where they have to live together in harmony. Alfonso finally answered slowly.
“There was also the incident where he did not cooperate with the inspection ceremony, and I met a foreign Cardinal a while ago, and I was angry because of that.”
Alfonso met Cardinal Wittelbausen after the Council, when San Carlo was in turmoil, preparing for the conclave.
He was the Cardinal of the Archdiocese of Anheim, near the Duchy of Sternheim, and the meeting was mainly to inquire after the welfare of the Grand Duke of Juldenburg.
However, the suspicious Leo III did not think that the meeting between the two was a simple, friendly get-together or a letter delivery service for old friends.
The old King was convinced that his energetic son's one-on-one meeting with a foreign Cardinal was a ploy to create a diplomatic line excluding him.
Ariadne asked worriedly.
“Shouldn’t you have come here today? There was no need to scratch His Majesty the King...”
Alfonso cut off Ariadne's concerns.
“I heard that my father-in-law is going to the conclave, so of course I have to come and see it.”
This was not something he could compromise on. He had other areas where he could compromise.
Alfonso was about to kiss Ariadne on the cheek in the carriage, but when the carriage started to shake violently, he deliberately bounced his waist and buried his face in Ariadne's neck.
A change of plan to move the destination from the lips to the nape of the neck was a compromise that could be made.
“Oh my.”
"Ah."
She turned her head to the side, trying to brush him off, but Alfonso grabbed her with a firm hand and asked,
“Are you pushing your husband away now?”
Husband. It was a heavy word.
While Ariadne was wasting her time, unable to refuse Alfonso once again, the carriage hit a bump, and this time it really shook.
With a thud, Ariadne's body shook along with the wooden floor, as if it were shaking. During this commotion, the side of her face hit the wall of the carriage.
"Ouch."
"This."
Alfonso picked her up and sat her on his lap, face to face.
“It’s dangerous, so do it like this.”
Alfonso's face was slightly flushed. He tried to remain calm, but it was difficult.
It couldn't be helped; Ariadne felt the tension in Alfonso's lower abdomen despite the dozen or so layers of clothing.
“Is it true that you did that because it was dangerous?”
She asked jokingly. Alfonso laughed too.
“Oh, did I get caught?”
Ariadne should not have asked that question.
Because Alfonso's hands had now completely abandoned any pretense of being polite and were beginning to find a way in between the hems of her dress.
This was unbearably ticklish.
Ariadne giggled, twisting her upper body. Her luscious skin swayed to the rhythm of the carriage, and Alfonso swallowed without realizing it.
“Where are your hands going? Aren’t you being too transparent?”
Alfonso laughed when he heard that. It was a boyish, white laugh that showed the belief that no one would hate him.
“So, you don’t like it?”
Ariadne was at a loss for an answer at that moment. She was annoyed by that confidence. It was annoying, but... she didn't hate it.
At one point, she wanted to shatter his lofty confidence, but Alfonso's confidence was well-founded. She always melted in front of that smile.
The man, who had read the permission from the woman's expression, skipped over the woolen outerwear that was almost dripping off and took off the thin partlet like a dragonfly wing.
“I hate it when my father looks at you like that.”
Alfonso hated the sticky, vengeful look in Leo III's eyes.
If it were pure desire, of course, he would have hated that too, then he wouldn't have hated it as much as he does now.
A loser of love, an old dog that was kicked out. Nevertheless, a coward who cannot give in to the competition, that is, the woman's choice.
Now that he knows the whole story, his father doesn't seem like a human being.
Alfonso licked Ariadne's exposed skin thoroughly, as if to disinfect with his lips every spot where Leo III's gaze had fallen on his woman.
“Yeah, yeah.”
The rattling of the carriage provided a dissonant tone to Alfonso's rhythmic teasing.
She felt as if she would faint every time the carriage shook, but Alfonso held her tightly and kept her from moving.
The stimulation was so intense that it was hard to believe it was just skin, and it exploded like fireworks. She wanted more, more.
But begging in the carriage was a step below the lowest level of meanness one could tolerate.
Ariadne suppressed her urge to hang herself.
She was held captive in the man's strong arms, unable to do anything, and she was completely exposed to his one-sided provocations, but all she could come out of it were excited moans.
“Ha, Alfonso. Please.”
She didn't even know what she was begging for. Whether she wanted him to leave, or...
At that moment, a soft, thick voice reached her ear.
“Do you want more?”
His voice was also full of excitement. She gave a short gasp and squirmed at the sensation reaching her ear.
Alfonso held her tightly in his arms and shouted at the top of his voice.
“Listen, instead of going straight to the de Mare mansion, take a detour around the city!”
If you go straight from the Basilica of Saint Ercole to the Villa de Mare, it only takes about 40 minutes by carriage.
Alfonso must have been planning a long, hot ride out of town.
It was exactly what she had wanted deep down.
Ariadne, who was a natural pessimist, was troubled at that moment, although she should have been happy to have achieved her goal without a single complaint.
'Why can't I just tell Alfonso what I want?'
Ariadne didn't want to reveal what she wanted in front of Alfonso. To be exact, she was scared.
He never once brought up the subject of her former fiancé, but Ariadne always felt a pang of guilt about it.
The Cesare of her past life and the Cesare of her present life overlapped, and her former fiancé, Duke Cesare, always felt closer to her than she actually allowed in this life.
Such intimacy remained her sole debt to Alfonso.
It was only after the marriage documents with Princess Lariesa surfaced that the issue was somewhat resolved.
After Prince Alfonso's marriage and its annulment became widely known, Ariadne thought that she could now be blameless.
This was because, in calculations, it was a tie. Her infidelity could be offset by his marital history.
But the excuses she came up with didn't make her feel better.
Ariadne still could not tell Alfonso what she longed for, what was good for her, what made her tremble.
“The bastard son of a dirty priest!”
“A country bumpkin who grew up on a farm!”
“An outsider who doesn’t know etiquette and has an untidy demeanor!”
She thought she had gotten over it, but the scars from her childhood could never be completely shaken off.
As she lived a long life, she was able to respond to external ridicule about being born low and raised by rough hands with an elegant smile.
She now knew how to bury someone who displayed such aggression in social circles and how to organize her thoughts so that such harsh words would not reach her.
But in reality, her biggest critic was herself. Even though she ignored others, Ariadne could never turn off the endless criticism that rang in her head.
To deal with external enemies, one had to respond with impeccable etiquette, upright posture, and immediate wit.
But while etiquette taught us how to smile and how to put down our silverware at a high-society party, it didn't teach us how far we should go or how we should act in front of the man we loved.
The golden Prince, the darling of the Central Continent who had poured his heart and soul into creating her man, was her man.
Without any shield of theology, etiquette, or sophistication, she was struggling to keep Alfonso from discovering the obvious fact that she had come from a humble background.
“Kiss me.”
The voice of a man who was in a good mood whispered in her ear. She opened her eyes, which were not opening properly, hesitantly.
“Ari, let me know that you want me, too.”
She imagined Alfonso prying into her, asking her where she got her skill from. She'd rather be dead than that.
When she did not respond, Alfonso's lips came crashing down on hers. Ariadne responded passively to Alfonso's kiss and thought.
If my father becomes the Pope, if I become the daughter of the most noble and powerful man in the Central Continent, will I be able to fully reveal myself to Alfonso?
How can I tell him what I want without feeling embarrassed?
Where on earth does this shame come from?
While the tall and handsome couple of Alfonso and Ariadne mingled with the royal family in the best seats to see off Cardinal de Mare, a tall young man and a portly middle-aged man were hiding in the darkest corner of the Basilica of Saint Ercole, watching the opening of the conclave.
They were Bishop Bevich and Ippolito, who was hiding his appearance by pulling down his hood.
They hid in the narrow corridors where newly arrived novice priests carried mop buckets and bed sheets, and peered through the small ventilation holes into the conclave chamber.
The door to the conclave is already closed. The losers have all been dealt a blow, and now all they can do is wait.
“Everything will go according to plan."
She sat in the back seat of the carriage, counting the days as it headed toward the de Mare household. Alfonso asked Ariadne, who was lost in thought.
“What are you thinking about?”
“...I wonder how many days it will take for the conclave to end.”
The conclave, the meeting to elect the next Pope, must reach a unanimous decision. Naturally, reaching a conclusion was not easy.
Some conclaves have lasted ridiculously long, the longest being two years, eight months, and 11 days.
Because the meeting to decide the next Pope was so drawn out that it would have caused many problems, the Holy See reorganized the conclave rules several times in order to reach a quick conclusion.
The most effective institution was the food restriction rule introduced at the Council of Utterbo.
The Council of Utterbo, despite much opposition, passed through a brutal reform that banned all food and drink except for a minimum of water and bread into the conclave a week after the Cardinals entered session.
This institutional improvement brought about significant time savings.
Nevertheless, in cases where the conflict was sharp, the College of Cardinals held out indefinitely, even while starving.
Recently, a reform was implemented to change the voting system from once a day to twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon.
It was to speed up the pace at which discussions unfolded internally.
But despite all these devices, it was still difficult to say for sure when the conclave would end.
Alfonso stretched deeply.
“Won’t you come out sooner than I thought?”
It was a deliberately more relaxed movement than usual. Alfonso did not want Ariadne to become depressed by being buried in a problem that had no answer.
“Normally, they say to expect it to take about a week, but this time, there are no differing opinions. One or two days? Three days?”
The fact that the conclave ended in a week means that it was concluded quite quickly. Even if things went smoothly, it usually takes a week.
Ariadne smiled slightly as she realized that Alfonso had called her on such a short date to cheer her up.
"Thank you."
Ariadne rubbed her cheek against Alfonso's. Alfonso shrugged his shoulders as if he had no idea what she was thankful for.
If the conclave was her concern, Alfonso's concern was Leo III's temper.
In fact, today was a day when Alfonso's worries were more prominent. She asked.
“Your Highness, your mood is more subdued than usual. What has happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
Alfonso stroked Ariadne's hair. He didn't really want to talk about such things.
Ariadne showed her affection and kindness by sharing her worries with him, but Alfonso did not want to take his worries to his woman.
But her green eyes were not filled with worry with that answer alone.
His wife, yes, his wife, was too sensitive to be comfortable, and too smart to be fooled.
Now, whether they like it or not, they are in a situation where they have to live together in harmony. Alfonso finally answered slowly.
“There was also the incident where he did not cooperate with the inspection ceremony, and I met a foreign Cardinal a while ago, and I was angry because of that.”
Alfonso met Cardinal Wittelbausen after the Council, when San Carlo was in turmoil, preparing for the conclave.
He was the Cardinal of the Archdiocese of Anheim, near the Duchy of Sternheim, and the meeting was mainly to inquire after the welfare of the Grand Duke of Juldenburg.
However, the suspicious Leo III did not think that the meeting between the two was a simple, friendly get-together or a letter delivery service for old friends.
The old King was convinced that his energetic son's one-on-one meeting with a foreign Cardinal was a ploy to create a diplomatic line excluding him.
Ariadne asked worriedly.
“Shouldn’t you have come here today? There was no need to scratch His Majesty the King...”
Alfonso cut off Ariadne's concerns.
“I heard that my father-in-law is going to the conclave, so of course I have to come and see it.”
This was not something he could compromise on. He had other areas where he could compromise.
Alfonso was about to kiss Ariadne on the cheek in the carriage, but when the carriage started to shake violently, he deliberately bounced his waist and buried his face in Ariadne's neck.
A change of plan to move the destination from the lips to the nape of the neck was a compromise that could be made.
“Oh my.”
"Ah."
She turned her head to the side, trying to brush him off, but Alfonso grabbed her with a firm hand and asked,
“Are you pushing your husband away now?”
Husband. It was a heavy word.
While Ariadne was wasting her time, unable to refuse Alfonso once again, the carriage hit a bump, and this time it really shook.
With a thud, Ariadne's body shook along with the wooden floor, as if it were shaking. During this commotion, the side of her face hit the wall of the carriage.
"Ouch."
"This."
Alfonso picked her up and sat her on his lap, face to face.
“It’s dangerous, so do it like this.”
Alfonso's face was slightly flushed. He tried to remain calm, but it was difficult.
It couldn't be helped; Ariadne felt the tension in Alfonso's lower abdomen despite the dozen or so layers of clothing.
“Is it true that you did that because it was dangerous?”
She asked jokingly. Alfonso laughed too.
“Oh, did I get caught?”
Ariadne should not have asked that question.
Because Alfonso's hands had now completely abandoned any pretense of being polite and were beginning to find a way in between the hems of her dress.
This was unbearably ticklish.
Ariadne giggled, twisting her upper body. Her luscious skin swayed to the rhythm of the carriage, and Alfonso swallowed without realizing it.
“Where are your hands going? Aren’t you being too transparent?”
Alfonso laughed when he heard that. It was a boyish, white laugh that showed the belief that no one would hate him.
“So, you don’t like it?”
Ariadne was at a loss for an answer at that moment. She was annoyed by that confidence. It was annoying, but... she didn't hate it.
At one point, she wanted to shatter his lofty confidence, but Alfonso's confidence was well-founded. She always melted in front of that smile.
The man, who had read the permission from the woman's expression, skipped over the woolen outerwear that was almost dripping off and took off the thin partlet like a dragonfly wing.
“I hate it when my father looks at you like that.”
Alfonso hated the sticky, vengeful look in Leo III's eyes.
If it were pure desire, of course, he would have hated that too, then he wouldn't have hated it as much as he does now.
A loser of love, an old dog that was kicked out. Nevertheless, a coward who cannot give in to the competition, that is, the woman's choice.
Now that he knows the whole story, his father doesn't seem like a human being.
Alfonso licked Ariadne's exposed skin thoroughly, as if to disinfect with his lips every spot where Leo III's gaze had fallen on his woman.
“Yeah, yeah.”
The rattling of the carriage provided a dissonant tone to Alfonso's rhythmic teasing.
She felt as if she would faint every time the carriage shook, but Alfonso held her tightly and kept her from moving.
The stimulation was so intense that it was hard to believe it was just skin, and it exploded like fireworks. She wanted more, more.
But begging in the carriage was a step below the lowest level of meanness one could tolerate.
Ariadne suppressed her urge to hang herself.
She was held captive in the man's strong arms, unable to do anything, and she was completely exposed to his one-sided provocations, but all she could come out of it were excited moans.
“Ha, Alfonso. Please.”
She didn't even know what she was begging for. Whether she wanted him to leave, or...
At that moment, a soft, thick voice reached her ear.
“Do you want more?”
His voice was also full of excitement. She gave a short gasp and squirmed at the sensation reaching her ear.
Alfonso held her tightly in his arms and shouted at the top of his voice.
“Listen, instead of going straight to the de Mare mansion, take a detour around the city!”
If you go straight from the Basilica of Saint Ercole to the Villa de Mare, it only takes about 40 minutes by carriage.
Alfonso must have been planning a long, hot ride out of town.
It was exactly what she had wanted deep down.
Ariadne, who was a natural pessimist, was troubled at that moment, although she should have been happy to have achieved her goal without a single complaint.
'Why can't I just tell Alfonso what I want?'
Ariadne didn't want to reveal what she wanted in front of Alfonso. To be exact, she was scared.
He never once brought up the subject of her former fiancé, but Ariadne always felt a pang of guilt about it.
The Cesare of her past life and the Cesare of her present life overlapped, and her former fiancé, Duke Cesare, always felt closer to her than she actually allowed in this life.
Such intimacy remained her sole debt to Alfonso.
It was only after the marriage documents with Princess Lariesa surfaced that the issue was somewhat resolved.
After Prince Alfonso's marriage and its annulment became widely known, Ariadne thought that she could now be blameless.
This was because, in calculations, it was a tie. Her infidelity could be offset by his marital history.
But the excuses she came up with didn't make her feel better.
Ariadne still could not tell Alfonso what she longed for, what was good for her, what made her tremble.
“The bastard son of a dirty priest!”
“A country bumpkin who grew up on a farm!”
“An outsider who doesn’t know etiquette and has an untidy demeanor!”
She thought she had gotten over it, but the scars from her childhood could never be completely shaken off.
As she lived a long life, she was able to respond to external ridicule about being born low and raised by rough hands with an elegant smile.
She now knew how to bury someone who displayed such aggression in social circles and how to organize her thoughts so that such harsh words would not reach her.
But in reality, her biggest critic was herself. Even though she ignored others, Ariadne could never turn off the endless criticism that rang in her head.
To deal with external enemies, one had to respond with impeccable etiquette, upright posture, and immediate wit.
But while etiquette taught us how to smile and how to put down our silverware at a high-society party, it didn't teach us how far we should go or how we should act in front of the man we loved.
The golden Prince, the darling of the Central Continent who had poured his heart and soul into creating her man, was her man.
Without any shield of theology, etiquette, or sophistication, she was struggling to keep Alfonso from discovering the obvious fact that she had come from a humble background.
“Kiss me.”
The voice of a man who was in a good mood whispered in her ear. She opened her eyes, which were not opening properly, hesitantly.
“Ari, let me know that you want me, too.”
She imagined Alfonso prying into her, asking her where she got her skill from. She'd rather be dead than that.
When she did not respond, Alfonso's lips came crashing down on hers. Ariadne responded passively to Alfonso's kiss and thought.
If my father becomes the Pope, if I become the daughter of the most noble and powerful man in the Central Continent, will I be able to fully reveal myself to Alfonso?
How can I tell him what I want without feeling embarrassed?
Where on earth does this shame come from?
***
While the tall and handsome couple of Alfonso and Ariadne mingled with the royal family in the best seats to see off Cardinal de Mare, a tall young man and a portly middle-aged man were hiding in the darkest corner of the Basilica of Saint Ercole, watching the opening of the conclave.
They were Bishop Bevich and Ippolito, who was hiding his appearance by pulling down his hood.
They hid in the narrow corridors where newly arrived novice priests carried mop buckets and bed sheets, and peered through the small ventilation holes into the conclave chamber.
The door to the conclave is already closed. The losers have all been dealt a blow, and now all they can do is wait.
“Everything will go according to plan."
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