Ippolito was about to shout at the gatekeeper, 'I am not the son of Bishop Naburin, I am the son of Cardinal De Mare!' but then he closed his mouth.
It was impossible to say anything when Marco's men were searching for him with their eyes wide open, and it was no longer true.
The gatekeeper offered some advice, perhaps because Ippolito's freezing appearance seemed too trivial.
“Bishop Bevich’s associates were all taken away, so it won’t look good for you to be hanging around here.”
But this guy was so frozen that he just rolled his eyes and couldn't move. The gatekeeper got annoyed and shouted at him.
“Get out of here.”
Ippolito muttered a thank you and ran away in a hurry.
Suddenly, he had nowhere to turn. He had come to the middle of the street in high spirits, but he suddenly became very scared and drove his mule to the side of the road.
He was afraid that he would be discovered by Marco if he went out in public. Instead of going along the main road, he drove a small mule to the edge of the forest.
'Huh, what should I do...?!'
Ippolito, who could no longer protect de Mare, naturally turned his thoughts to his biological father. There was no such thing as self-made success in his dictionary.
'My real father...'
He put his mother's diary, which Aunt Louisa had brought him, in a corner and only began to read it a long time later.
He wasn't reading it because he was bored; he was just wondering if she had written down where he had hidden his money.
He didn't find the hidden emergency fund, but he read something amazing instead.
"The name is Lorenzo.... The family crest is a fire-breathing serpent..."
It was a technology about one's own father.
Lucrezia had urged her son to find 'his mother's favorite flower', but Ippolito had no idea that tulips were his mother's favorite flower.
Lucrezia's diary and the secret of Ippolito's birth came into Ippolito's hands through such absurd twists and turns.
[ Ash hair... Manly face... Originally from a good family in the northern part of the Etruscan kingdom... Became a mercenary and went to war... He registered with his father, but the emblem of his new mercenary company was also a fire-breathing serpent... ]
On the next page of Aunt Louisa's note was the name of his biological father. But Ippolito could tell without even looking at it.
“No way... Iron-clad Variati?”
"The new mercenary group founded by Ippolito's biological father was nicknamed the 'Iron-clad Wolves'. In recognition of their achievements on the battlefield, they were awarded the title of Marquis by the King of the Kingdom of Salamanta."
The iron-clad Variati! He was a worthy target for boys who wanted to become knights.
He joined the mercenary band with nothing but a sword and rose to the ranks of the best condottieri on the continent. Suddenly, hope and courage surged up in him.
'Yeah, this is it!'
As expected, the de Mare family was not a good fit for him! Telling a wolf on the battlefield to go to school and study was fruitless! He wasn't bad! He was just forced to do a talent that didn't suit him!
'I am the son of the legendary Ironclad Variati, the proud captain of mercenaries!'
A boyish, proud smile once again appeared on Ippolito's battered and rough face.
'Dirty de Mare, if only I could go to my real father and take a seat...!'
He rolled the silver button in his pocket, which Aunt Louisa had stolen, between his fingers.
The smooth, warm feel of it seemed as if it guaranteed a solid future with his new father.
Whoosh!
Then something very sharp passed his cheek. Ippolito looked up in surprise. It was an arrow.
He looked in the direction the arrow had come from, thinking it might be one of Marco's goons, but he saw nothing, and instead he heard the sound of a horse's hooves.
Just hearing the sound of it running made him think of a fine horse with great calligraphy.
'This isn't the type of person Marco can mobilize?!'
While Ippolito was distracted, a second arrow flew.
Shh!
“Eek!”
The arrow had a sharp iron tip on a black, solid shaft. It was a masterpiece.
Ippolito gave up on further thought and started running frantically. He spurred on his little mule.
Kkieeeekkeung!
The mule began to gallop at full speed, neighing with a distinctly different sound from that of a horse. The unfortunate thing was that its speed was also distinctly different from that of a horse.
A third arrow flew in, this time from much closer range.
“Ugh!”
Ippolito prayed to the heavenly gods to spare his life.
He said that he would live a good life from now on, so please save him just this once. He said that he has never had any bad relations with such a fearsome person, except for a group of thugs like Marco, so please look after him.
Although Ippolito did not know it, the person who fired the arrow was Bianca of Taranto.
The Duke of Taranto received Ariadne's advance notice just before the expulsion of Ippolito de Mare and immediately dispatched assassins.
Ippolito's hiding from Marco in the harbor saved his life.
The Duke of Taranto's men, who had been trying to catch Ippolito's tail, were on guard near Bishop Bevich as soon as they heard from Ariadne that Ippolito was in league with Bishop Bevich.
As soon as Ippolito showed up today, he started chasing his target.
Ippolito delved deeper and deeper into the forest, lost in thought. He had to survive until he could meet his 'father'.
Pfft!
Then an arrow flew right near him. With a face as dead as a man, Ippolito desperately hugged the mule.
As soon as Alfonso heard of Cardinal de Mare's fall from power, he came to see Ariadne.
He usually chose to be considerate of her and sneak in as late as possible when visiting the de Mare mansion.
But today, Prince Alfonso came formally in broad daylight, accompanied by his knights and wearing the Prince's insignia.
Sancha, who was used to the Prince coming in through the back door at night, opened her eyes wide and trembled.
Gather the family, pay homage to royalty, and there is no chaos.
Alfonso waited patiently, fearing that if he looked too familiar, he would end up like a secret lover and a dog tied up in the yard of the house.
The story of a man and a woman dating in secret, but the woman's dog rolls around with its belly exposed whenever it sees the man, and the people around them find out, is a classic that has been passed down through the generations.
As soon as all the formalities were over, Alfonso went to Ariadne with movements as swift as wildfire. Sancha looked at the Prince's back.
'Don't you know the layout of the house too well...?'
The Prince walked through the complicated corridors without any hesitation and opened the correct door in one go.
Bam!
It was Ariadne's abode.
She was sitting on her bed, wearing a plain dressing gown, and her long black hair was simply combed down.
Alfonso walked towards her without saying a word and took her into his arms.
“Alfonso...!”
His strong arms and firm chest comforted her. He stroked her hair without saying a word.
Alfonso always wore the bare minimum of clothing: a shirt, trousers, boots, and a cloak over it if it was cold; that was the outfit he enjoyed the most.
But today, he came dressed in all his growth gear.
Alfonso's light armor and elegant woolen cloak touched Ariadne's body. The feeling itself was rough, but Ariadne could feel Alfonso's care.
He must have dressed up like this and brought everyone here in broad daylight so that people wouldn't worry.
Even if her father was not the Pope, the Prince would never abandon her, and it was an unspoken warning to others to take note of that fact and not mistreat the Prince's woman.
Ariadne's heart ached at his actions, which were more affectionate than anyone else's, even though he didn't say anything.
“...I’m sorry.”
She muttered softly. If only there had been a little more support on her part. If only her household had been a little more dignified.
“Because I couldn’t become the Pope’s daughter.”
If only that had been the case, everything would have been easy. Alfonso would not have to go anywhere complaining, would not have to suffer unnecessary insults, and would have been able to live as a flawless, perfect golden Prince.
Her vision suddenly changed. Alfonso picked her up.
“What are you talking about?”
Just as he had once lifted her up from the hydrangea garden when she was still young, infinitely close to the sky.
“It’s not your fault.”
Alfonso brought Ariadne down again, whom he had raised high, and held her in his arms.
It was a much closer and more affectionate touch than the one he had given Ariadne in the hydrangea garden.
“It’s not the Cardinal’s fault either.”
But her feet still hadn't touched the ground. He walked slowly towards the bed, holding her legs in his arms.
Alfonso went to the foot of the bed, not far away, lay Ariadne on her back, and kissed her on the lips.
The soft mucous membrane wrapped around her, taking her breath away.
“Ah...!”
She let out a little gasp, and the Prince's kiss became more and more passionate.
Ariadne struggled for air, but Alfonso gave her no space. His heavy, armored upper body pressed against her chest.
Her soft skin was crushed without mercy. He stroked her as if he were handling the most precious thing in the world.
Only when Ariadne's hair had turned white did Alfonso part his lips. The spider web between them sparkled in the light.
It's dazzlingly bright, but it's so fragile that it has no staying power.
Ariadne thought.
This is like the relationship between the two of us. A secret marriage. One that no one can claim. Connected by love, but not fixed by anything else.
Alfonso saw her pupils shaking and spoke forcefully.
“I will never let you go.”
He touched Ariadne's lips.
“You are my wife, sworn before the heavens. You are my only companion and the future mother of my children.”
Alfonso's kiss actually gave Ariadne the courage to ask him a question.
If Alfonso had not brought up the subject, Ariadne would never have asked first.
“But... if things continue as they are now, our children will have no right to inherit the Etruscan throne.”
It was a term referring to a marriage between nobles and common people. A successor who cannot inherit the family line is not much different from an illegitimate child in terms of effectiveness.
Ariadne's green eyes shook with fear.
If he were to go and meet another woman on the grounds of a noble or common marriage, she would not be able to stop him. However, Alfonso smiled lightly.
“I don’t even know if I will have the throne or not, so how can I afford to worry about the succession rights of a child who hasn’t even been born yet?”
Alfonso attacked her again. This time, it wasn't her lips he was after.
“Let’s make it first and then worry about it!”
“Oh my gosh... Ah!”
Alfonso was getting to know Ariadne inside out.
He now knew which buttons to press to make her look like she was crying, and which places to stroke to make her purr like a cat in pain.
Alfonso felt an inexplicable elation as he watched Ariadne's expression crumble at his gesture.
He learned what she knew, and together they discovered what she didn't know.
Now he is her master musician, the only one in the world who can play her one-of-a-kind instrument.
He will never allow anyone else to enter this unknown world. She will always be his protection.
If she was the one who added fragrance to his and her own world, then he was the one who would protect this world like an iron fortress.
“It’s okay. Ari, it’s okay.”
He whispered in her ear. Her skin flushed all over her body, and she writhed as the breath on her ear was added to the list of stimuli.
He doesn't know if she'll remember this conversation, but he really wanted to say it now.
“If you want the title of monarch, I will give it to you even if I have to conquer a country I don’t know.”
This type of problem was originally a man's job. It was naive to wait for the father-in-law to figure it out for him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
It's time to show his true colors as a problem solver.
It was impossible to say anything when Marco's men were searching for him with their eyes wide open, and it was no longer true.
The gatekeeper offered some advice, perhaps because Ippolito's freezing appearance seemed too trivial.
“Bishop Bevich’s associates were all taken away, so it won’t look good for you to be hanging around here.”
But this guy was so frozen that he just rolled his eyes and couldn't move. The gatekeeper got annoyed and shouted at him.
“Get out of here.”
Ippolito muttered a thank you and ran away in a hurry.
Suddenly, he had nowhere to turn. He had come to the middle of the street in high spirits, but he suddenly became very scared and drove his mule to the side of the road.
He was afraid that he would be discovered by Marco if he went out in public. Instead of going along the main road, he drove a small mule to the edge of the forest.
'Huh, what should I do...?!'
Ippolito, who could no longer protect de Mare, naturally turned his thoughts to his biological father. There was no such thing as self-made success in his dictionary.
'My real father...'
He put his mother's diary, which Aunt Louisa had brought him, in a corner and only began to read it a long time later.
He wasn't reading it because he was bored; he was just wondering if she had written down where he had hidden his money.
He didn't find the hidden emergency fund, but he read something amazing instead.
"The name is Lorenzo.... The family crest is a fire-breathing serpent..."
It was a technology about one's own father.
Lucrezia had urged her son to find 'his mother's favorite flower', but Ippolito had no idea that tulips were his mother's favorite flower.
Lucrezia's diary and the secret of Ippolito's birth came into Ippolito's hands through such absurd twists and turns.
[ Ash hair... Manly face... Originally from a good family in the northern part of the Etruscan kingdom... Became a mercenary and went to war... He registered with his father, but the emblem of his new mercenary company was also a fire-breathing serpent... ]
On the next page of Aunt Louisa's note was the name of his biological father. But Ippolito could tell without even looking at it.
“No way... Iron-clad Variati?”
"The new mercenary group founded by Ippolito's biological father was nicknamed the 'Iron-clad Wolves'. In recognition of their achievements on the battlefield, they were awarded the title of Marquis by the King of the Kingdom of Salamanta."
The iron-clad Variati! He was a worthy target for boys who wanted to become knights.
He joined the mercenary band with nothing but a sword and rose to the ranks of the best condottieri on the continent. Suddenly, hope and courage surged up in him.
'Yeah, this is it!'
As expected, the de Mare family was not a good fit for him! Telling a wolf on the battlefield to go to school and study was fruitless! He wasn't bad! He was just forced to do a talent that didn't suit him!
'I am the son of the legendary Ironclad Variati, the proud captain of mercenaries!'
A boyish, proud smile once again appeared on Ippolito's battered and rough face.
'Dirty de Mare, if only I could go to my real father and take a seat...!'
He rolled the silver button in his pocket, which Aunt Louisa had stolen, between his fingers.
The smooth, warm feel of it seemed as if it guaranteed a solid future with his new father.
Whoosh!
Then something very sharp passed his cheek. Ippolito looked up in surprise. It was an arrow.
He looked in the direction the arrow had come from, thinking it might be one of Marco's goons, but he saw nothing, and instead he heard the sound of a horse's hooves.
Just hearing the sound of it running made him think of a fine horse with great calligraphy.
'This isn't the type of person Marco can mobilize?!'
While Ippolito was distracted, a second arrow flew.
Shh!
“Eek!”
The arrow had a sharp iron tip on a black, solid shaft. It was a masterpiece.
Ippolito gave up on further thought and started running frantically. He spurred on his little mule.
Kkieeeekkeung!
The mule began to gallop at full speed, neighing with a distinctly different sound from that of a horse. The unfortunate thing was that its speed was also distinctly different from that of a horse.
A third arrow flew in, this time from much closer range.
“Ugh!”
Ippolito prayed to the heavenly gods to spare his life.
He said that he would live a good life from now on, so please save him just this once. He said that he has never had any bad relations with such a fearsome person, except for a group of thugs like Marco, so please look after him.
Although Ippolito did not know it, the person who fired the arrow was Bianca of Taranto.
The Duke of Taranto received Ariadne's advance notice just before the expulsion of Ippolito de Mare and immediately dispatched assassins.
Ippolito's hiding from Marco in the harbor saved his life.
The Duke of Taranto's men, who had been trying to catch Ippolito's tail, were on guard near Bishop Bevich as soon as they heard from Ariadne that Ippolito was in league with Bishop Bevich.
As soon as Ippolito showed up today, he started chasing his target.
Ippolito delved deeper and deeper into the forest, lost in thought. He had to survive until he could meet his 'father'.
Pfft!
Then an arrow flew right near him. With a face as dead as a man, Ippolito desperately hugged the mule.
***
As soon as Alfonso heard of Cardinal de Mare's fall from power, he came to see Ariadne.
He usually chose to be considerate of her and sneak in as late as possible when visiting the de Mare mansion.
But today, Prince Alfonso came formally in broad daylight, accompanied by his knights and wearing the Prince's insignia.
Sancha, who was used to the Prince coming in through the back door at night, opened her eyes wide and trembled.
Gather the family, pay homage to royalty, and there is no chaos.
Alfonso waited patiently, fearing that if he looked too familiar, he would end up like a secret lover and a dog tied up in the yard of the house.
The story of a man and a woman dating in secret, but the woman's dog rolls around with its belly exposed whenever it sees the man, and the people around them find out, is a classic that has been passed down through the generations.
As soon as all the formalities were over, Alfonso went to Ariadne with movements as swift as wildfire. Sancha looked at the Prince's back.
'Don't you know the layout of the house too well...?'
The Prince walked through the complicated corridors without any hesitation and opened the correct door in one go.
Bam!
It was Ariadne's abode.
She was sitting on her bed, wearing a plain dressing gown, and her long black hair was simply combed down.
Alfonso walked towards her without saying a word and took her into his arms.
“Alfonso...!”
His strong arms and firm chest comforted her. He stroked her hair without saying a word.
Alfonso always wore the bare minimum of clothing: a shirt, trousers, boots, and a cloak over it if it was cold; that was the outfit he enjoyed the most.
But today, he came dressed in all his growth gear.
Alfonso's light armor and elegant woolen cloak touched Ariadne's body. The feeling itself was rough, but Ariadne could feel Alfonso's care.
He must have dressed up like this and brought everyone here in broad daylight so that people wouldn't worry.
Even if her father was not the Pope, the Prince would never abandon her, and it was an unspoken warning to others to take note of that fact and not mistreat the Prince's woman.
Ariadne's heart ached at his actions, which were more affectionate than anyone else's, even though he didn't say anything.
“...I’m sorry.”
She muttered softly. If only there had been a little more support on her part. If only her household had been a little more dignified.
“Because I couldn’t become the Pope’s daughter.”
If only that had been the case, everything would have been easy. Alfonso would not have to go anywhere complaining, would not have to suffer unnecessary insults, and would have been able to live as a flawless, perfect golden Prince.
Her vision suddenly changed. Alfonso picked her up.
“What are you talking about?”
Just as he had once lifted her up from the hydrangea garden when she was still young, infinitely close to the sky.
“It’s not your fault.”
Alfonso brought Ariadne down again, whom he had raised high, and held her in his arms.
It was a much closer and more affectionate touch than the one he had given Ariadne in the hydrangea garden.
“It’s not the Cardinal’s fault either.”
But her feet still hadn't touched the ground. He walked slowly towards the bed, holding her legs in his arms.
Alfonso went to the foot of the bed, not far away, lay Ariadne on her back, and kissed her on the lips.
The soft mucous membrane wrapped around her, taking her breath away.
“Ah...!”
She let out a little gasp, and the Prince's kiss became more and more passionate.
Ariadne struggled for air, but Alfonso gave her no space. His heavy, armored upper body pressed against her chest.
Her soft skin was crushed without mercy. He stroked her as if he were handling the most precious thing in the world.
Only when Ariadne's hair had turned white did Alfonso part his lips. The spider web between them sparkled in the light.
It's dazzlingly bright, but it's so fragile that it has no staying power.
Ariadne thought.
This is like the relationship between the two of us. A secret marriage. One that no one can claim. Connected by love, but not fixed by anything else.
Alfonso saw her pupils shaking and spoke forcefully.
“I will never let you go.”
He touched Ariadne's lips.
“You are my wife, sworn before the heavens. You are my only companion and the future mother of my children.”
Alfonso's kiss actually gave Ariadne the courage to ask him a question.
If Alfonso had not brought up the subject, Ariadne would never have asked first.
“But... if things continue as they are now, our children will have no right to inherit the Etruscan throne.”
It was a term referring to a marriage between nobles and common people. A successor who cannot inherit the family line is not much different from an illegitimate child in terms of effectiveness.
Ariadne's green eyes shook with fear.
If he were to go and meet another woman on the grounds of a noble or common marriage, she would not be able to stop him. However, Alfonso smiled lightly.
“I don’t even know if I will have the throne or not, so how can I afford to worry about the succession rights of a child who hasn’t even been born yet?”
Alfonso attacked her again. This time, it wasn't her lips he was after.
“Let’s make it first and then worry about it!”
“Oh my gosh... Ah!”
Alfonso was getting to know Ariadne inside out.
He now knew which buttons to press to make her look like she was crying, and which places to stroke to make her purr like a cat in pain.
Alfonso felt an inexplicable elation as he watched Ariadne's expression crumble at his gesture.
He learned what she knew, and together they discovered what she didn't know.
Now he is her master musician, the only one in the world who can play her one-of-a-kind instrument.
He will never allow anyone else to enter this unknown world. She will always be his protection.
If she was the one who added fragrance to his and her own world, then he was the one who would protect this world like an iron fortress.
“It’s okay. Ari, it’s okay.”
He whispered in her ear. Her skin flushed all over her body, and she writhed as the breath on her ear was added to the list of stimuli.
He doesn't know if she'll remember this conversation, but he really wanted to say it now.
“If you want the title of monarch, I will give it to you even if I have to conquer a country I don’t know.”
This type of problem was originally a man's job. It was naive to wait for the father-in-law to figure it out for him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
It's time to show his true colors as a problem solver.
Support Novellate!
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