There was another reason why the peerless beauty could not be an assassin. She was a face he even recognized.
“Countess Contarini...!”
Leo III's jaw dropped as he spoke. As the blonde beauty took a step forward, her torn chemise slid down, revealing her flesh without any hesitation.
“Please call me Isabella...!”
Leo III couldn't come to his senses. Was this a dream or reality? In the meantime, he felt a sense he had long forgotten return. His lower abdomen felt heavy.
“Oh, oh...!”
Whether or not she knew what Leo III meant by his exclamation, Isabella covered his knees, which were exposed under his nightgown, with her upper body and knelt at his feet.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please save me. Sob, sob, sob.”
A strong, pungent human scent came from somewhere. Leo III thought it was just the sweat of the Countess running naked in front of him. He kindly bent down and supported her as she trembled.
“Countess Contarini, no, Isabella. What is this! How did you get in here!”
“I have been falsely accused, I have been falsely accused. I need the wisdom of Your Majesty...!”
Isabella's loose blond hair flowed down her bare shoulders and back. There was something strangely heart-warming about it. But Leo III pulled himself together.
“Oh, oh!”
This woman is the wife of Count Ottavio Contarini, and her reputation is not very good. Her brother has recently become a criminal and is wanted. She is not someone he can mess with.
At that moment, Isabella raised her head and met Leo III’s eyes. The moment he was directly met with her lavender gaze, Leo III felt his head go dizzy. She was overwhelmingly beautiful.
“Oh...”
Leo III, who was thinking of calling someone, changed his mind. It would be okay to at least listen to the story.
“What happened?”
“I, I don’t need anything. I only want the truth!”
Isabella opened her tiny lips and began to tell her astonishing and unfortunate story.
“That is...”
Four hours ago, Isabella had given herself to Agosto in return for running away from the Bartolini mansion and standing on the back street of Bocca della Giano. She looked at the paved road with her arms wrapped around her body, looking very depressed.
“...”
Agosto stood beside her without saying a word. Isabella thought Agosto would release her and leave immediately, but he did not leave her side.
“What are you going to do now?”
“...”
Isabella was silent. The first thing that came to her mind was Count DiPascal. But by any measure, that was not a good choice.
'I don't think he'll accept me.'
Even if DiPascal had simply taken his hand and run away without any resistance, it would have been a problem. He had no sense of responsibility, even if he wanted to eat and die, and he had no money either. DiPascal was the kind of guy who would return to the capital alone in less than half a year if they ran away together.
'...You shouldn't trust men. Don't trust men, Isabella.'
The man could not trust in love or loyalty. Isabella glared at Agosto with her white eyes. Even the man, whom she had always believed to be loyal was ultimately a man who could not be trusted.
If there were no men, what would be left would be family, but Isabella was a woman who had all the men but nothing else.
'Father also abandoned me when the Duke of Cesare broke off the engagement. Do you think it will be any different this time?'
Besides, her father was now an old man with no special ability and was at the mercy of her mortal enemy, Ariadne. Isabella shook her head. Isabella had no family of origin, no family of origin, to which she could turn when she had problems with her husband.
But she had another kind of resource at her disposal: the countless men who flocked to her like moths. She didn't have to trust them; she just had to use them. She didn't have to get hurt, she didn't have to rely on them, she just had to pluck them out.
She looked at Agosto with a sad face.
“I’m going to the palace...”
Isabella could not live in hiding. She was a woman who could not live without the city, without glamour, without beauty.
“To the Palazzo Carlo.”
If she wanted to continue living like this, she had to first clear her name of Clemente's attempted murder. While she was at it, it would be even better to clear her name of the Marquis of Campa's mistress. The only person who could do that was His Majesty the King, Leo III, who was in the palace.
Agosto looked at Isabella with a subtle expression. His face was a mixture of amusement, omnipotence, and relief.
'I can't hear your voice.'
He no longer heard the voice that had been whispering to him since his time in Amhara, telling him to always pursue Isabella. Instead, strange knowledge was pouring into him.
He asked, trying to clear his hazy mind. But there was a subtle note of longing in his slow voice.
“What are you going to do when you go to the palace?”
Isabella was about to snap at him out of habit, saying You don't know anything, but then she realized she was in no position to do so, and her temper dropped. She muttered in a depressed voice.
“I will meet His Majesty the King.”
Isabella also noticed something odd about Agosto's expression. But now, Isabella, unusually for her, did not want Agosto's attention. Pure attention, if it was of utility, was neither what she wanted nor was it of any use.
Agosto, on the other hand, was in a state of excitement. He had never been to Palagio Carlo. But now the interior of Palagio Carlo was spread out before his eyes like a map. Judging by the carpet decorations of a certain period and the cups lying on the table, it was someone's memory. He said with amusement.
“Follow me.”
Isabella looked at him with an expression that said she had seen all kinds of crazy people.
“I will put you in the King’s bedroom.”
“How can you do this?”
In the past, he would have answered, 'I see the future.' Instead, Agosto answered with an exultant expression.
“I have the memory of the Supreme Being.”
There was a very old, disused secret passage. It was once claimed by a good Prince that His Majesty the King should escape through. It was eventually used as an entry point by a traitor. This information came to him suddenly as if he were going through old memories.
“We go to the King’s bedroom through a secret passage.”
Here, Isabella could not hold back and started to whine. As soon as she sensed that Agosto would not be able to kill her, she could not suppress her anger towards the man who had taken her by force.
“Oh. Would you like to appear before His Majesty the King as well?”
Isabella snapped. Surprisingly, it was the right answer.
“If you show up in His Majesty’s bedroom, you will be beheaded immediately. If a Moorish man with a sword enters the King’s bedroom, it will be a sight to behold. I barely escaped the punishment of beheading under the law, but now I am being charged with regicide. That is my fate.”
“...”
Isabella demanded boldly of Agosto.
“Please take me to His Majesty the King’s bedchamber.”
Agosto felt a strange pain in his chest. It was something he had never felt before. Was it because he had once held that woman that he had developed a new sense of compassion? Or was it connected to a new memory that had come to him?
But before this incomprehensible sadness, he wanted to try out this newfound almighty power.
Agosto eventually nodded in agreement.
"Let's go."
“Clemente de Bartolini, come out now!”
At dawn, the guards were dispatched from the palace.
“Appear before the ‘Palace Court’ as a defendant!”
The Bartolini mansion was turned upside down. Anyone could tell that this was caused by Isabella de Contarini. They went into the cellar, making a fuss, but, sure enough, Isabella was not there.
Ottavio was furious, demanding who was responsible for neglecting the guards in the prison, that Isabella had been lost because of him, and that he would not let him off easy. Clemente wanted to cry and scold Ottavio, saying that it was all his fault, but his brother kicked his sister in the shin under the hem of her skirt. It was to vent his anger. The servants hurriedly followed the old Count’s orders and dispersed in all directions. The whole house was in chaos.
Looking down at his brother-in-law, who was crouching on the floor, hugging his shins and groaning, only Count Bartolini spoke calmly.
“Let’s go. The truth will come out.”
Clemente came out in a dark gray dress, with a proud air. The guardsmen escorted her tightly and put her in the palace carriage. The Bartolini family, including Count Bartolini and Ottavio, followed behind in the Bartolini family carriage.
The entire family came together as one to support the wicked woman Clemente.
The King's 'Palace Court' was held after a long time. If it hadn't been hastily arranged, more people would have been there. But anyway, rumors were rife, and almost everyone who could hear the rumors in time gathered. This was not a spectacle to be missed.
“Did you hear the story? Countess Bartolini was captured by the guards!”
“Countess Contarini and her sister-in-law were fighting by grabbing each other’s hair, and then she pushed them down the stairs!”
“Adultery? Is there something like that?”
“How are you and your sister-in-law?”
“I don’t know!”
Leo III's irritated voice resonated through the room.
“Yes, everyone, be quiet!”
Leo III, who had appointed himself judge of the 'Palace Court' that day, sat on the high bench in the center and surveyed the assembled people. It was a hall where those subject to his authority were gathered.
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet who the culprit is! Everyone, be quiet!”
Taking advantage of the vacuum created by the King, a palace official read the scroll.
“Today’s agenda! Who on earth is the attempted murderer? There was a fall at the Bartolini mansion! Countess Contarini claims that Countess Bartolini pushed her, and Countess Bartolini claims that Countess Contarini pushed her!”
Someone asked loudly.
“Which one of you fell?”
The palace official answered.
“This is Countess Bartolini.”
“Countess Contarini...!”
Leo III's jaw dropped as he spoke. As the blonde beauty took a step forward, her torn chemise slid down, revealing her flesh without any hesitation.
“Please call me Isabella...!”
Leo III couldn't come to his senses. Was this a dream or reality? In the meantime, he felt a sense he had long forgotten return. His lower abdomen felt heavy.
“Oh, oh...!”
Whether or not she knew what Leo III meant by his exclamation, Isabella covered his knees, which were exposed under his nightgown, with her upper body and knelt at his feet.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please save me. Sob, sob, sob.”
A strong, pungent human scent came from somewhere. Leo III thought it was just the sweat of the Countess running naked in front of him. He kindly bent down and supported her as she trembled.
“Countess Contarini, no, Isabella. What is this! How did you get in here!”
“I have been falsely accused, I have been falsely accused. I need the wisdom of Your Majesty...!”
Isabella's loose blond hair flowed down her bare shoulders and back. There was something strangely heart-warming about it. But Leo III pulled himself together.
“Oh, oh!”
This woman is the wife of Count Ottavio Contarini, and her reputation is not very good. Her brother has recently become a criminal and is wanted. She is not someone he can mess with.
At that moment, Isabella raised her head and met Leo III’s eyes. The moment he was directly met with her lavender gaze, Leo III felt his head go dizzy. She was overwhelmingly beautiful.
“Oh...”
Leo III, who was thinking of calling someone, changed his mind. It would be okay to at least listen to the story.
“What happened?”
“I, I don’t need anything. I only want the truth!”
Isabella opened her tiny lips and began to tell her astonishing and unfortunate story.
“That is...”
***
Four hours ago, Isabella had given herself to Agosto in return for running away from the Bartolini mansion and standing on the back street of Bocca della Giano. She looked at the paved road with her arms wrapped around her body, looking very depressed.
“...”
Agosto stood beside her without saying a word. Isabella thought Agosto would release her and leave immediately, but he did not leave her side.
“What are you going to do now?”
“...”
Isabella was silent. The first thing that came to her mind was Count DiPascal. But by any measure, that was not a good choice.
'I don't think he'll accept me.'
Even if DiPascal had simply taken his hand and run away without any resistance, it would have been a problem. He had no sense of responsibility, even if he wanted to eat and die, and he had no money either. DiPascal was the kind of guy who would return to the capital alone in less than half a year if they ran away together.
'...You shouldn't trust men. Don't trust men, Isabella.'
The man could not trust in love or loyalty. Isabella glared at Agosto with her white eyes. Even the man, whom she had always believed to be loyal was ultimately a man who could not be trusted.
If there were no men, what would be left would be family, but Isabella was a woman who had all the men but nothing else.
'Father also abandoned me when the Duke of Cesare broke off the engagement. Do you think it will be any different this time?'
Besides, her father was now an old man with no special ability and was at the mercy of her mortal enemy, Ariadne. Isabella shook her head. Isabella had no family of origin, no family of origin, to which she could turn when she had problems with her husband.
But she had another kind of resource at her disposal: the countless men who flocked to her like moths. She didn't have to trust them; she just had to use them. She didn't have to get hurt, she didn't have to rely on them, she just had to pluck them out.
She looked at Agosto with a sad face.
“I’m going to the palace...”
Isabella could not live in hiding. She was a woman who could not live without the city, without glamour, without beauty.
“To the Palazzo Carlo.”
If she wanted to continue living like this, she had to first clear her name of Clemente's attempted murder. While she was at it, it would be even better to clear her name of the Marquis of Campa's mistress. The only person who could do that was His Majesty the King, Leo III, who was in the palace.
Agosto looked at Isabella with a subtle expression. His face was a mixture of amusement, omnipotence, and relief.
'I can't hear your voice.'
He no longer heard the voice that had been whispering to him since his time in Amhara, telling him to always pursue Isabella. Instead, strange knowledge was pouring into him.
He asked, trying to clear his hazy mind. But there was a subtle note of longing in his slow voice.
“What are you going to do when you go to the palace?”
Isabella was about to snap at him out of habit, saying You don't know anything, but then she realized she was in no position to do so, and her temper dropped. She muttered in a depressed voice.
“I will meet His Majesty the King.”
Isabella also noticed something odd about Agosto's expression. But now, Isabella, unusually for her, did not want Agosto's attention. Pure attention, if it was of utility, was neither what she wanted nor was it of any use.
Agosto, on the other hand, was in a state of excitement. He had never been to Palagio Carlo. But now the interior of Palagio Carlo was spread out before his eyes like a map. Judging by the carpet decorations of a certain period and the cups lying on the table, it was someone's memory. He said with amusement.
“Follow me.”
Isabella looked at him with an expression that said she had seen all kinds of crazy people.
“I will put you in the King’s bedroom.”
“How can you do this?”
In the past, he would have answered, 'I see the future.' Instead, Agosto answered with an exultant expression.
“I have the memory of the Supreme Being.”
There was a very old, disused secret passage. It was once claimed by a good Prince that His Majesty the King should escape through. It was eventually used as an entry point by a traitor. This information came to him suddenly as if he were going through old memories.
“We go to the King’s bedroom through a secret passage.”
Here, Isabella could not hold back and started to whine. As soon as she sensed that Agosto would not be able to kill her, she could not suppress her anger towards the man who had taken her by force.
“Oh. Would you like to appear before His Majesty the King as well?”
Isabella snapped. Surprisingly, it was the right answer.
“If you show up in His Majesty’s bedroom, you will be beheaded immediately. If a Moorish man with a sword enters the King’s bedroom, it will be a sight to behold. I barely escaped the punishment of beheading under the law, but now I am being charged with regicide. That is my fate.”
“...”
Isabella demanded boldly of Agosto.
“Please take me to His Majesty the King’s bedchamber.”
Agosto felt a strange pain in his chest. It was something he had never felt before. Was it because he had once held that woman that he had developed a new sense of compassion? Or was it connected to a new memory that had come to him?
But before this incomprehensible sadness, he wanted to try out this newfound almighty power.
Agosto eventually nodded in agreement.
"Let's go."
***
“Clemente de Bartolini, come out now!”
At dawn, the guards were dispatched from the palace.
“Appear before the ‘Palace Court’ as a defendant!”
The Bartolini mansion was turned upside down. Anyone could tell that this was caused by Isabella de Contarini. They went into the cellar, making a fuss, but, sure enough, Isabella was not there.
Ottavio was furious, demanding who was responsible for neglecting the guards in the prison, that Isabella had been lost because of him, and that he would not let him off easy. Clemente wanted to cry and scold Ottavio, saying that it was all his fault, but his brother kicked his sister in the shin under the hem of her skirt. It was to vent his anger. The servants hurriedly followed the old Count’s orders and dispersed in all directions. The whole house was in chaos.
Looking down at his brother-in-law, who was crouching on the floor, hugging his shins and groaning, only Count Bartolini spoke calmly.
“Let’s go. The truth will come out.”
Clemente came out in a dark gray dress, with a proud air. The guardsmen escorted her tightly and put her in the palace carriage. The Bartolini family, including Count Bartolini and Ottavio, followed behind in the Bartolini family carriage.
The entire family came together as one to support the wicked woman Clemente.
***
The King's 'Palace Court' was held after a long time. If it hadn't been hastily arranged, more people would have been there. But anyway, rumors were rife, and almost everyone who could hear the rumors in time gathered. This was not a spectacle to be missed.
“Did you hear the story? Countess Bartolini was captured by the guards!”
“Countess Contarini and her sister-in-law were fighting by grabbing each other’s hair, and then she pushed them down the stairs!”
“Adultery? Is there something like that?”
“How are you and your sister-in-law?”
“I don’t know!”
Leo III's irritated voice resonated through the room.
“Yes, everyone, be quiet!”
Leo III, who had appointed himself judge of the 'Palace Court' that day, sat on the high bench in the center and surveyed the assembled people. It was a hall where those subject to his authority were gathered.
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet who the culprit is! Everyone, be quiet!”
Taking advantage of the vacuum created by the King, a palace official read the scroll.
“Today’s agenda! Who on earth is the attempted murderer? There was a fall at the Bartolini mansion! Countess Contarini claims that Countess Bartolini pushed her, and Countess Bartolini claims that Countess Contarini pushed her!”
Someone asked loudly.
“Which one of you fell?”
The palace official answered.
“This is Countess Bartolini.”
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