Chapter 473 - A different person

Ariadne opened her eyes to find herself in a very large, soft bed. The bedroom's ceiling was extremely high, but an unfamiliar canopy comfortably obscured her view at just the right height.

But it wasn't comfortable. The bed sheets and duvet cover were stiffer and more scratchy than those at home. Perhaps because the ceiling was hollow, the air inside, despite being stagnant, felt much colder than usual. Ariadne looked up at the familiar wall, hoping to pull the rope to summon the maids, but there was nothing there.

Her throat is parched.

“Uh...”

Suffering from intense thirst, she recounted what had happened before she collapsed.

Isabella, the struggle, the claws, the screams... Ariadne's last memory was of a dull pain and a bright red stain of blood blooming between her legs.

Now she was clean and lying on a pristine white bedsheet. It wasn't hard to guess what this meant. But it was a completely different story from saying she wanted her prediction to be true.

'Miscarriage...'

She shuddered.

She lost her temper after arguing with Isabella over something trivial. Cesare would have reprimanded her harshly. He never actually said such things, but something in her head, like her former fiancé's voice, whispered to her.

"I told you to behave like a lady! You're just like the wolf-dog that people say you are."

Wolfdog. Ariadn must have remembered this derogatory term, which she had forgotten, because of Isabella's mocking call of "wild boar."

Ariadne shook her head to break this train of thought. But once the negative thoughts had entered her mind, they wouldn't stop easily.

"Do you know what the most important thing for a woman is? It's giving birth to a man's successor!"

The child of Alfonso she missed. The heir to the throne, she could not bear.

'You even got into a physical fight with your older sister over your petty regret and let it go?!'

Should I have endured it? Like in the past, like always, silently. Quietly and obediently. Was it presumptuous of me to speak up and stand up for my father?

"You're not up to your womanly duty. You don't have a shred of maternal love! Even the women on the street are better than you! How dare you want the position of regent?"

She shook her head again. Cesare would have been perfectly capable of saying such things. But Alfonso wasn't that kind of person. He would never accuse her like that.

But Ariadne had no idea how someone "not like Cesare" would express his grief. He wouldn't be so cruel. But what face would he make? Would he resent her? Would he tell her he no longer loved her? She had no idea what Alfonso would be like.

Alfonso always showed her a smiling face. How he would cope with the sadness of not being able to smile was a mystery to Ariadne.

No, it wasn't just sadness. There must have been anger. The thought sent a wave of fear down her spine.

Alfonso would be angry, too. If he gets angry, he will... How will he... treat me?

Ariadne desperately searched her mind for references to when Alfonso was angry. Was he angry at Elko? Was he angry at the Duke of Mireille? Would he be angry at me, too? She found reasons for Alfonso to be angry at her before reasons for him to be affectionate. It was a habit that had become second nature.

It was a never-ending spiral. Her throat was parched. She wanted to call for a drink. Water, water.

Even if it was just a glass of water, the only person she could comfortably ask for something was Sancha.

But judging by its appearance, this is a Prince's palace. The Palazzo de Carlo, surrounded by hostile people, is a place where her own cozy mountain tea will be at home.

She felt like crying. She looked around, trying to call someone. But instead, she heard a voice like salvation descending from the heavens.

“...Miss?”

It was Sancha's voice. Ariadne was incredibly happy. She wanted to ask her to come closer. But her throat was choked, and no sound came out.

But Ariadne didn't need to call Sancha. She was already right before her. Sancha, who had been asleep with her arms folded at the foot of Ariadne's bed, opened her eyes at the sound. She jumped up and hugged Ariadne.

"Miss!"

Along with Sancha's embrace, the familiar scent of home wafted in. The familiar scent of Sancha, mixed with the scent of laundry soap and the crisp, tangled scent of fabrics from the de Mare mansion.

The rest was a breeze. Ariadne didn't even need to say anything. As if possessed, a glass of water was placed before her nose. It was her favorite cold water.

Her throat was parched. It was as thirsty as the cracked earth. Ariadne gulped down the cold water. There was a certain pleasure in the sensation of it moistening her throat.

“Oh, right!”

Sancha stood up, leaving Ariadne to drink water. She ran outside, squealing.

“Miss, no, the Princess is awake!!”

It happened before Ariadne could say anything to stop it. A commotion erupted outside.

And less than five minutes later, Alfonso came running in, dressed in his princely attire. He seemed to be handling some business. When in private, with comfortable company, Alfonso always wore only a shirt, trousers, and boots.

"Ari!"

With the Prince's appearance, the attendants retreated like the ebb tide. Sancha was no exception. Ariadne watched Sancha leave with a sad face.

I didn't want to be left alone with Alfonso. What would he say?

He gazed blankly at Ariadne. Alfonso, his war-mongering face erased as if it had never existed, was the same golden Prince he always was. Despite this, she felt an unconscious tension.

Finally, Alfonso opened his mouth.

“Please, be careful.”

Ariadne raised her head and looked up at Alfonso. Digging underground, Ariadne was fully prepared to read even those simple words as a rebuke to her own carelessness, rather than a self-serving intention.

She couldn't help it because she read both deep despair and relief in Alfonso's voice.

“I thought I lost you forever.”

Alfonso whispered softly, as if in confession. His tone was one of reluctantly bringing up difficult topics.

“...I was so scared.”

Alfonso de Carlo had nothing to fear. At least, he seemed to others. Alfonso Casco Nero, the victorious leader of the Crusades, the man who could build a tower out of the heads of pagans. A young general making a name for himself across the Central Continent, even his own King was wary of him, and the sole legitimate heir to an ancient kingdom.

He also had to appear fearless. He had 800 knights following him, and the royal family. Now he even had a wife. If he were underestimated, everyone else would be disregarded along with him.

So, when Ariadne heard that confession, her heart sank.

“Alfonso...”

The confession of fear was probably the most difficult thing Alfonso could ever say. As she pondered his feelings, she felt an unbearable pity for the emotional pain he must have endured.

“I’m sorry...”

Ariadne gently reached out and embraced Alfonso. Her face was as pale as a ghost. In the chilly palace, Alfonso's body was the only source of warmth.

“I’m sorry...”

She whispered again. She, too, would imagine being alone if Alfonso fell unconscious. It was terrifying. She couldn't live without him. To think Alfonso would go through the same thing...

Alfonso opened his mouth and answered in a deep voice.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

Ariadne looked at Alfonso, startled, still holding him. For a moment, she felt intimidated again. Alfonso continued.

“Do you know how shocked I was when I saw that pool of blood?”

Alfonso de Carlo, the brave general of the rebellious era, was imbued with human blood. He bathed in the blood of pagans without batting an eye. Not because he was particularly cruel, but because the deaths and amputations of human limbs had become a common occurrence for him.

But when the royal dining hall was filled with blood, and Ariadne's blood at that, Alfonso reverted to the boy who had first seen human blood. It was blood he was not prepared to sacrifice.

“The doctor said your life would be fine, but... I couldn’t see anything.”

He omitted the details of what he did, since he couldn't see anything. He couldn't bring himself to say that he beat her sister to the brink of death in front of Ariadne. However, Ariadne asked first.

“What happened to Isabella?”

In any case, it was an unavoidable story.

“I have punished Countess Contarini.”

He answered curtly.

“And then, we..., had a child.”

Ah. I was right. Ariadne closed her eyes tightly.

Alfonso spoke to her comfortingly.

"It's okay, you're safe. Don't get involved in anything dangerous again."

He hummed while embracing her.

“If you disappear... If I can’t protect you..."

He's going to go crazy. He lowered his head. Big tears fell. She hugged her husband in silence.

They held each other like that for a long time. In silence, they sought each other's warmth. They didn't know what to say. Neither Ariadne nor Alfonso could reveal their true feelings to the other. Love and a shared understanding were two separate things.

Fortunately for Alfonso, a voice called out to him from outside.

"Your Highness."

Alfonso didn't raise his head. It was Sir Manfredi who had called the prince.

"I apologize for interrupting you while you're in the middle of something important. The citizen representative I mentioned earlier is waiting to see the Prince. It's been a while."

Sir Manfredi also greeted Ariadne, who had a haggard complexion.

"It's a great relief that the Princess is safe. Your father has been waiting outside for a while now."

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