Chapter 445 - Break

It was early evening when Isabella was locked in the dungeon. At first, she had no idea what had happened to her. But as the night grew deeper, Isabella began to panic as she realized that she would die when dawn came.

“No! I can’t die here like this!”

Someone's dirty socks had fallen out of her mouth at some point. Fortunately or unfortunately, no one tried to put them back in Isabella's mouth. No one came into this locked dungeon. Not even her trashy husband.

“Ottavio, Ottavio!”

She cried out her husband's name until her throat became hoarse, but it was no use. At first, Isabella called his name in a pleading tone, but gradually she became rougher. She placed Ottavio in a parallel position with a cow and a piglet around the time the waning moon began to rise.

"Ottavio, you murderous son of a bitch, you shriveled-up pig! You call yourself a man after what you did!"

Isabella's strength was that she was strong even in such a situation. And heaven helps those who do not give up, even if they are rotten sprouts. For her, who did not know despair, a lifeline finally appeared.

“...Your husband would definitely be better off without his dick.”

The person who appeared from the darkness was Agosto. The whites of his eyes were shining brightly all over his body. An ordinary person would have been afraid to see him like that, but Isabella was delighted.

“Agosto, get me out of here right now!”

The Bartolini family's cellar was quite shabby, unlike the dungeons of the de Mare mansion, which were properly majestic. Not only were there no bars, but the locks were not secure. Even if Isabella had not been tied up, she could have escaped to the ground floor.

If Agosto just releases the string, she can go right out, Isabella commanded confidently.

"Immediately!"

But Agosto's reaction was different than usual. He paused for a moment and then slowly answered.

“Why me?”

Isabella was greatly shocked by Agosto's words.

“...What?”

Agosto was her property, and not only because he was a Moorish slave. All the men obeyed her orders. Starting with small favors, then slightly larger requests, then a little whining and harassing, then very large requests, then orders, then more whining and harassing, and eventually they all became her loyal slaves.

Agosto had already gone through all these stages, so she could not understand this rebellion.

“...You dare to defy me now? You?”

Of course, some men escaped Isabella's ant hell. Duke Cesare was a prime example. Ottavio, too, felt that her magic power over him was fading away as time went by.

However, those who succeeded in escaping had something in common. First, they were successful men, and second, they had already had her. It made no sense for Agosto to come out like this, since he was neither of those two.

In Isabella's world of stairs, Agosto, who should have been crawling on the floor far below her and not even making eye contact with her, calmly asked back.

“Why should I listen to you?”

“That’s you...!”

Isabella bit the tip of her tongue as she was about to say, “You are my slave.” Did she pay the slave’s ransom in a lump sum? She couldn’t quite remember. Agosto was a Moor, obedient, and didn’t complain about the unpaid wages, so she thought he was just a slave, but she wasn’t sure.

“The job you hired me to do was a personal escort. However, the work you are ordering me to do is not a job for a warrior in any way, and I have not even been paid for half a year.”

“That, that...”

He did get a salary, but he had no intention of apologizing for that.

“...Ask Ottavio! The living expenses are the responsibility of the outsider!”

Agosto looked at her and smiled. In addition to the whites of his eyes, teeth were added to the exposed whites. This time, it was creepy.

“Then shouldn’t I listen to my master’s words? He won’t want me to let you go.”

Isabella, at a loss for words, stared blankly at Agosto's face.

'Damn, am I just another accessory to Ottavio here?'

She was strangely angry, and her anger spilled over into Agosto as well.

“You’ve been listening to me all along!”

Instead, she got angry.

“Is it money you want? If that were the case, you would have left me long ago! You pretended to be loyal and stayed by my side, but now, when life or death is at stake, you dare to betray me?”

Isabella was truly furious, as if Agosto had shown up to stab her in the back when she was at her weakest, forgetting all his years of unpaid service.

“That’s why you stayed by my side!”

The problem was that Agosto, or rather Akirilou, was actually there for her.

Akirilou's voice in his head whispered to him.

- Say ot!

Akirilou waved his hand near his ear as if shooing away an annoying fly, but the voice in his head did not budge.

- Right now!

Agosto frowned at the booming voice. This 'voice' was also something he couldn't understand.

He had been following the voice's guidance since the beginning, seeking Isabella. The voice whispered to him as it saved him from the danger of death: 'Find the woman of your destiny on the Western Continent.'

But when he actually found 'that woman', Isabella, she treated him like dirt stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

He showed Isabella all the kindness a man could show, but in Isabella's eyes, he was merely a willing, unpaid slave. She set Agosto down and told him to wash her corset, while she slept with her husband Ottavio and other scumbags of the capital, including DiPascal.

They were trash who could not be compared to him spiritually, physically, or in appearance. Agosto could not understand it.

- Get off!

The Akirilou of another timeline, or the remnants of the Akirilou of the past, was furious. Agosto shook his head and shook his voice. Thanks to the furious voice, he was not caught in Isabella's change of subject. He returned to his main topic and asked.

“I have no obligation to obey you. So why should I let you go?”

This was the question he had been wondering all the time he was with Isabella. What he didn't realize was that he could have left at any time, but he didn't leave of his own choice. No one can see the beam in his own eye. He gathered all the grievances he had ever felt and asked.

“What can you give me?”

“If I, if I get out of here...”

Isabella's voice began to tremble as ominous thoughts began to creep into her.

'No way.'

Her voice became as sweet as honey.

“What do you want in money? How much? 100 ducats?”

It was a last-ditch effort to persuade Agosto.

“Oh, no. I can do anything as long as I get out of here. I’ll give you a lot of money. How about 500 Ducats?”

But Agosto just snickered. He didn't even answer. Even a passing dog knew that Isabella didn't have that kind of money. He asked again.

“What can you give me?”

Isabella's pupils wavered. If money doesn't work, let's run away together...? To accept me as a wife...? She hated that more than death, and it didn't seem like Agosto would accept it.

Will my father make great use of you...? It was impossible, and I doubted Agosto would be interested in the power of the Central Continent.

Then there is only one thing she can give to Agosto.

Isabella's hands began to tremble as she finally realized the reality. She was neither a virgin nor had she been faithful to her husband, but this was ridiculous.

“Oh, no, Agosto. Let’s talk about our story.”

What a Moor! What a Moor! She, who had divided people into layers and created a giant staircase, did not see Agosto as a man, let alone a person.

Of course, she didn't choose a partner solely based on his external charm. The social gains, the bragging in front of others, the sweet nothings he whispered, and even the gold coins he gave her were all things she exchanged for love.

But so far, her extramarital partners have at least been men of her choosing. They may be ugly, bad-tempered, or pathetic, but Isabella's criteria were men who, when she chose them, would be willing to become her mistress.

“When I go out, I’ll give you 1000 ducats...”

It was an empty promise with no reality. Isabella realized that she was pushing money into someone who could not raise the money and who didn't need the wages, so she shut her mouth. Agosto looked down at her quietly.

The silence was so heavy that tears began to well up in Isabella's large purple eyes.

She most recently had an affair with the Marquis of Cepinelli in exchange for 400 Ducats, after several advances from him.

Just before that, she had slept with Count DiPascal. It was under the pretense of proof of love, but in reality, DiPascal had given her an 80-ducats bracelet as a token of their love.

At some point, as her secret meeting with DiPascal dragged on, Isabella became too tired of the formalities of going to the pawn shop and pawning her bracelet to get cash. There was no love anyway, so if she just threw away the shell of 'love', she could get 400 instead of 80. Then wouldn't that be a loss of 320?

In the meantime, Isabella had been gradually destroying the values that she could not compromise on. What she did with the Marquis of Cepinelli was partly because she was frustrated. After all, she couldn't get in touch with DiPascal, but it was Isabella's own doing. Isabella had to endure the choices that were destroying her on her own.

Without doing that, things just went their way, and finally, today, she came to this choice.

Suddenly, Agosto pulled a sword out of his waist.

Srrrrung!

It was a crescent-shaped sword used only by the Moors. Isabella, who saw the blade, could not hold it back anymore and burst into tears. He swung the sword.

"Ah!"

Isabella's last words rang out. Contrary to Isabella's prediction that Agosto would cut off her own neck, what he cut was the rope that bound her wrists. He asked a third time.

“What can you give me?”

Isabella looked up at Agosto with tears of disgust and fear. If I had lived a little harder... If I had been rich like Ariadne, or if I had established a city that I could rule like Camellia's husband, wouldn't this have happened?

The Agosto Isabella saw had a completely blank expression. There wasn't a single shred of sympathy in him.

There is no chance of getting out of this situation for free.

Isabella, who had nothing to her name, began to undo the fastenings of her skirt with trembling hands.

This is a deal worth at least a thousand ducats, since Agosto refused to let her go for a thousand ducats. She had sold herself for less. For her affair with the fat, balding Marquis Cepinelli, Isabella received only four hundred ducats.

'It's the price of life... Whatever...'

Survival was more important than the 400 ducats, or the whispers of love that DiPascal had whispered, or even the envy of Camellia, who had looked at her with hatred when she returned to San Carlo, holding Ottavio's arm. If she did not escape from here by daybreak, Isabella would die at the hands of the scoundrels Ottavio had brought.

But the tears didn't stop.

'I... I fell all the way here...'

A woman who aims for the highest place must give herself up to the lowest man.

Between her trembling hands and the untied strings, the de Mare mansion where she lived as a child flashed before her eyes.

The glittering social circle, the envy of all, the wealth of the most beautiful San Carlo...

The Moorish knight, hiding in the pitch-black darkness, watched Isabella, exposed to the moonlight, as she pulled up her skirt.

Isabella cried as if something inside her had been ripped out. She cried, and she cried with her heart.

Swish.

After a fierce struggle, the skirt straps finally came undone. The outer garment flowed down on both sides, and the very thin, puffy petticoat and the pearly bare legs hidden beneath it shone in the moonlight. Very beautiful legs. But Isabella thought.

'It's like a fish.'

And it seemed that Agosto also shared the impression that her legs were like fish. Instead of attacking her, Agosto looked down at Isabella as if he were looking at a real fish.

On the contrary, Akirilou ran wild in his head.

- 'Let's go, let's go, let's go! She's going to give it to you, so why are you hesitating? Let's go! Let's go, let's go, let's go!'

Agosto stayed in his spot, feeling somewhat uneasy about doing whatever that crazy voice told him to do.

But in the midst of all this, Isabella's voice rang out.

“Please save me.”

She crawled on her knees to Agosto, who was tied up and motionless.

“I’ll give you anything to get me out of here.”

She asked with a tearful face to the savage, who would not even dare to lay a finger on her.

“Please take me.”

***

Leo III was lying in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. As he grew older, he often fell asleep early and woke up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back to sleep. Today was another day like that.

'It's because I was embarrassed during the day.'

That's because that guy Alfonso made a fool of himself in front of the guests. He's so angry that he can't sleep well.

He was worried. He had already received part of Princess Julia Helena's dowry as a down payment, but Alfonso was stubbornly refusing to marry her. Leo III had already made a tight plan on where to spend the money. There was no money he could afford to not spend. His head was spinning.

Rustle.

'Ha.'

Leo III thought, When you get old, your hearing gets better and you start hearing strange things. Yes, it's all because of that bastard Alfonso.

Alfonso was shitting himself in the chamber pot. Princess Julia Helena was young and fresh, and beautiful. No man would turn her down. Leo III himself would never have turned her down.

It was extremely rare for a woman to make an old man cry. Oh, of course, he's not saying she really did. That didn't happen. He was too old for that.

But Alfonso refused such a beauty, even to the point of disgracing his father's face. He could not have it. His son could have it. Leo III was once again furious.

Rustle.

There was another creaking sound. Or was it the creaking of wooden planks?

'Are you a rat?'

He decided that if he heard that sound one more time, he would call the servants outside and beat them up for not maintaining the palace properly. He might even beat them with a stick, or rather, whip them. That was how much irritation and anger he felt.

CLANG!

But the third sound was so loud that it was almost like an explosion compared to the previous noises. Leo III sat up in bed in shock.

And he almost had a heart attack.

That loud noise was the sound of the lock on an unused secret passage breaking. He thought it was an assassin, but it wasn't.

What emerged from inside the secret passage was a dazzlingly beautiful blonde beauty, wearing nothing but a torn chemise.'

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