From somewhere, like a gust of wind, Lord Delpiano rushed in and supported Leo III as he stumbled backward. Leo III hoped that Lord Delpiano would understand his intentions and shout for Alfonso to behead him first. But his faithful secretary only uttered the same words.
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please hold on tight.”
“Delpia, Delphiano...!”
The words, “Do I look fixed?” disappeared between his gasping breaths.
“Take care of your body! Hey, here, bring me water! Bring me water!”
Leo III gasped and thought, 'What I need is not water. Let me see my son crawling at my feet, weeping!'
But the grown son had no intention of granting his father's wishes. Alfonso simply stared at Leo III with cold eyes.
His son's gaze raked him like a sharp awl. Whether Alfonso truly felt that way was unclear, but the old King felt his son's gaze like that of a wild beast, assessing how he could physically subdue him.
“Hey, you bastard...! Yeah, you bastard...!”
The old King's struggles were futile. Leo III felt a deep resentment at his own crumbling body. With the vigor of his youth, he longed to stride forward and smack that bastard's head in! He had been a fine knight in his day!
Alfonso strode forward, his son's imposing size casting a shadow over his father's withered body.
He hated his son's approach and his silence. Leo III cried out.
“How dare you...! How dare you...!”
Prince Alfonso stared at Leo III for a long time, saying nothing. The silence was suffocating. Leo III filled the void with swearing and shouting. Having witnessed his father's outburst, Alfonso turned around. Without hesitation, he left the King's dining room.
“I, I, I...!”
Leo III groaned and pointed at his son, who had left without permission. That was all he could do at the moment.
Sir Delpiano bowed his head behind him. He was the only one Leo III could bring to prostration. Unable to contain his anger, the old King lowered his head and screamed.
“Ahhhh!!”
The aged King was powerless at that moment. But he still possessed enough power to do something, and the aftereffects were abundant. So he did what he could.
“Is this true?”
Sir Manfredi asked back. Sir Bernardino, the person being questioned, had just returned from a meeting with the General Affairs Department. But Sir Manfredi couldn't believe Sir Dino's words.
“Is it true that His Majesty the King has completely cut the budget for the palace?”
Sir Bernardino answered with a dejected expression.
“I think I should talk to Lord Delpiano or Marquis Baldessar, but for now, that’s it.”
Sir Bernardino, who went to receive the budget for this month, received a pouch containing only 80 florins. It was so small and light that he had to ask the person in charge for it.
“Has Palagio Carlo’s budget execution changed to promissory notes starting this month?”
That wasn't the case. The budgets of all departments except the Palace were well-funded in Ducati gold. It was simply that Leo III had actually carried out his threat to cut off the Palace's budget in the real world.
“Oh my god...”
He asked why he had given 80 florins, and he said it was interest on a loan from the palace budget the previous month for exterior wall repairs. He was truly a thrifty King in many ways.
While Sir Manfredi remained speechless and blinked, Prince Alfonso remained silent, his lips tightly shut. His expression was so terrifying that he could have slaughtered a live bear at any moment.
In fact, it may not be the bear that he needs to catch.
Sir Manfredi asked.
“It can’t be like this, can it?”
“Hey.”
Sir Bernardino tried to keep the mood light, knowing the implications.
“No matter how I look at it, doesn’t it seem like His Majesty the King was momentarily angry and did this?”
At Dino's desperate glance, Manfredi also noticed his slip of the tongue.
“Yes.”
Sir Manfredi also joined the movement.
“He must have been angry for a moment.”
But the youngest of the knights, Sir Desilio, was oblivious. And brave.
"He does something like that just because he's a little angry? Isn't that something he can't do with common sense? It makes no sense!"
To the youngest, who was full of a sense of justice, the King's actions seemed utterly unjust.
“Go to His Majesty immediately and protest...”
Sir Manfredi quickly kicked Sir Desilio in the shin.
'What are you going to do after protesting?'
While Sir Desilio was clutching his shins in pain, Sir Bernardino took the floor again.
"Your Highness."
Sir Dino advised gently.
“How about we go back and ask His Majesty again when he has calmed down a bit...?”
Rebellion would prolong the standoff, and that would only lead to destruction. There was no benefit to going to such extremes with the King.
Sir Bernardino was calculating whether he could go right away and whether he could visit this afternoon when His Majesty the King was having tea.
"No."
Prince Alfonso's previously silent voice cracked and rang through the room. It wasn't his usual tone. Alfonso declared firmly.
“I will not crawl between His Majesty the King’s legs.”
The Prince's knights looked at each other. The Prince's palace didn't have the money to pay the knights' salaries for the next month. Even if they didn't care, there must have been someone among the 800 knights who did.
The Knights Templar were a tight-knit group centered around the Prince. Many had been his playmates since childhood, and even if they weren't, they boasted a long-honed loyalty, honed through their Etruscan roots.
Moreover, many of them came from noble families. Even if they weren't from aristocratic families, no one would have any problems if their pay was cut off for a month or two.
However, the origins of the Black Helmet Knights began with Prince Alfonso, who gathered the defeated troops from the Yesak War. Some had participated individually, driven by religious fervor, others had served other lords in pursuit of advancement, and then drifted into the Yesak War. Almost all of the Etruscan knights who had been in Yesak gathered under Prince Alfonso's command. Nevertheless, more than 70% were foreigners.
While they possessed a camaraderie built on the battlefield, they were not expected to show the kind of loyalty a monarch demanded of his subjects. Few had even started families yet, having recently returned to their homeland. Nevertheless, if their pay was cut off, they wouldn't last long.
Sir Manfredi, who always called himself a frog, asked bravely.
“Your Highness, then is there any other way?”
Only Sir Manfredi could say such things.
“They might tolerate a delay of a few days, but if it’s delayed by more than two months, there will be quite a few defectors from the Order.”
Alfonso remained silent. Instead, a husky, female voice answered Sir Manfredi's question.
“There are other ways.”
Ariadne, the Countess of de Mare, had been staying at the Prince's palace instead of returning to the de Mare mansion since her fall.
She walked past Sir Manfred with a confident stride. Sir Manfred thought the Prince's companion's glance at him had been a haughty gaze, like that of a fool.
“Even if you let go of it when you are with His Majesty, if you crawl in right now, it looks like an easy puppy to tame.”
Ariadne turned to Sir Bernardino, the Knights Templar's housekeeper. She handed him a piece of parchment. It looked like a receipt.
“What is this...”
“This is a promissory note for 4000 ducats.”
In an instant, the room fell silent. Everyone in the room turned to her. Despite the explosive gaze, Ariadne's relaxed smile remained unwavering.
“This is what the Knights will be living on this month.”
This was a luxury only someone who could easily raise a similar amount the following month could afford. A halo shone behind Ariadne. Sir Bernardino thought.
'Where in the world can you find a woman like this...'
Even if you had brought home a Princess from a decent kingdom, she wouldn't have been able to squeeze out a check for four thousand ducats. In terms of the Knights' finances, and thus their cash flow, she was better than any monarch's daughter.
Sir Bernardino briefly considered that perhaps his lord was not a man blinded by love and acting madly.
'I just thought... I thought you fell in love at first sight and said you wouldn't mind even if she were a Countess... Our Prince, you didn't calculate all this before getting married, did you?'
Sir Bernardino's imagination ran wild.
"Our Prince, did you wish to conquer the continent with this military fund? Did you wish to become Emperor?"
Sir Manfredi shouted from behind in a much more sensible tone.
“Your Highness, you have truly married well!”
“Delpiano!”
Leo III went to his secretary with great arrogance.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“What do you think, when the Prince’s palace budget doesn’t come out, what does that little Alfonso say?”
“Not yet... not a word... not yet.”
It was natural, since Prince Alfonso wasn't coming to collect the money himself. Even if he had come in person, it wouldn't have made a difference. If he had, Sir Delpiano wouldn't have gone. Even if he hadn't, he would have ordered someone else to do it.
“He must be flustered and flustered, right?”
Leo III couldn't hide his excited smile.
“Should he crawl on his knees and apologize?”
“Well...”
"Why, you don't think he'll crawl on his knees? Is it because it's so far from the palace? Then how about duck-walking? No, if the Prince were to do that, it'd be a problem for my dignity..."
At that moment, Grand Duchess Rubina appeared in the King's breakfast room. She had already finished her meal separately.
"Your Majesty."
Her eyes were wide open.
“By any chance...”
Having said this, Rubina turned to leave.
“Oh, no.”
As soon as she heard the news, she was so curious that she followed him in a hurry, but when she saw the mischievous expression on the King's face, filled with anticipation, she decided to quickly turn back.
“Why did you stop talking?”
Leo III was furious. Lately, he'd been spending half his time losing his temper. Rubina was sometimes grateful for Isabella's presence.
“Speak clearly!”
“Your Majesty, have you cut off the budget for the palace?”
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please hold on tight.”
“Delpia, Delphiano...!”
The words, “Do I look fixed?” disappeared between his gasping breaths.
“Take care of your body! Hey, here, bring me water! Bring me water!”
Leo III gasped and thought, 'What I need is not water. Let me see my son crawling at my feet, weeping!'
But the grown son had no intention of granting his father's wishes. Alfonso simply stared at Leo III with cold eyes.
His son's gaze raked him like a sharp awl. Whether Alfonso truly felt that way was unclear, but the old King felt his son's gaze like that of a wild beast, assessing how he could physically subdue him.
“Hey, you bastard...! Yeah, you bastard...!”
The old King's struggles were futile. Leo III felt a deep resentment at his own crumbling body. With the vigor of his youth, he longed to stride forward and smack that bastard's head in! He had been a fine knight in his day!
Alfonso strode forward, his son's imposing size casting a shadow over his father's withered body.
He hated his son's approach and his silence. Leo III cried out.
“How dare you...! How dare you...!”
Prince Alfonso stared at Leo III for a long time, saying nothing. The silence was suffocating. Leo III filled the void with swearing and shouting. Having witnessed his father's outburst, Alfonso turned around. Without hesitation, he left the King's dining room.
“I, I, I...!”
Leo III groaned and pointed at his son, who had left without permission. That was all he could do at the moment.
Sir Delpiano bowed his head behind him. He was the only one Leo III could bring to prostration. Unable to contain his anger, the old King lowered his head and screamed.
“Ahhhh!!”
***
The aged King was powerless at that moment. But he still possessed enough power to do something, and the aftereffects were abundant. So he did what he could.
“Is this true?”
Sir Manfredi asked back. Sir Bernardino, the person being questioned, had just returned from a meeting with the General Affairs Department. But Sir Manfredi couldn't believe Sir Dino's words.
“Is it true that His Majesty the King has completely cut the budget for the palace?”
Sir Bernardino answered with a dejected expression.
“I think I should talk to Lord Delpiano or Marquis Baldessar, but for now, that’s it.”
Sir Bernardino, who went to receive the budget for this month, received a pouch containing only 80 florins. It was so small and light that he had to ask the person in charge for it.
“Has Palagio Carlo’s budget execution changed to promissory notes starting this month?”
That wasn't the case. The budgets of all departments except the Palace were well-funded in Ducati gold. It was simply that Leo III had actually carried out his threat to cut off the Palace's budget in the real world.
“Oh my god...”
He asked why he had given 80 florins, and he said it was interest on a loan from the palace budget the previous month for exterior wall repairs. He was truly a thrifty King in many ways.
While Sir Manfredi remained speechless and blinked, Prince Alfonso remained silent, his lips tightly shut. His expression was so terrifying that he could have slaughtered a live bear at any moment.
In fact, it may not be the bear that he needs to catch.
Sir Manfredi asked.
“It can’t be like this, can it?”
“Hey.”
Sir Bernardino tried to keep the mood light, knowing the implications.
“No matter how I look at it, doesn’t it seem like His Majesty the King was momentarily angry and did this?”
At Dino's desperate glance, Manfredi also noticed his slip of the tongue.
“Yes.”
Sir Manfredi also joined the movement.
“He must have been angry for a moment.”
But the youngest of the knights, Sir Desilio, was oblivious. And brave.
"He does something like that just because he's a little angry? Isn't that something he can't do with common sense? It makes no sense!"
To the youngest, who was full of a sense of justice, the King's actions seemed utterly unjust.
“Go to His Majesty immediately and protest...”
Sir Manfredi quickly kicked Sir Desilio in the shin.
'What are you going to do after protesting?'
While Sir Desilio was clutching his shins in pain, Sir Bernardino took the floor again.
"Your Highness."
Sir Dino advised gently.
“How about we go back and ask His Majesty again when he has calmed down a bit...?”
Rebellion would prolong the standoff, and that would only lead to destruction. There was no benefit to going to such extremes with the King.
Sir Bernardino was calculating whether he could go right away and whether he could visit this afternoon when His Majesty the King was having tea.
"No."
Prince Alfonso's previously silent voice cracked and rang through the room. It wasn't his usual tone. Alfonso declared firmly.
“I will not crawl between His Majesty the King’s legs.”
The Prince's knights looked at each other. The Prince's palace didn't have the money to pay the knights' salaries for the next month. Even if they didn't care, there must have been someone among the 800 knights who did.
The Knights Templar were a tight-knit group centered around the Prince. Many had been his playmates since childhood, and even if they weren't, they boasted a long-honed loyalty, honed through their Etruscan roots.
Moreover, many of them came from noble families. Even if they weren't from aristocratic families, no one would have any problems if their pay was cut off for a month or two.
However, the origins of the Black Helmet Knights began with Prince Alfonso, who gathered the defeated troops from the Yesak War. Some had participated individually, driven by religious fervor, others had served other lords in pursuit of advancement, and then drifted into the Yesak War. Almost all of the Etruscan knights who had been in Yesak gathered under Prince Alfonso's command. Nevertheless, more than 70% were foreigners.
While they possessed a camaraderie built on the battlefield, they were not expected to show the kind of loyalty a monarch demanded of his subjects. Few had even started families yet, having recently returned to their homeland. Nevertheless, if their pay was cut off, they wouldn't last long.
Sir Manfredi, who always called himself a frog, asked bravely.
“Your Highness, then is there any other way?”
Only Sir Manfredi could say such things.
“They might tolerate a delay of a few days, but if it’s delayed by more than two months, there will be quite a few defectors from the Order.”
Alfonso remained silent. Instead, a husky, female voice answered Sir Manfredi's question.
“There are other ways.”
Ariadne, the Countess of de Mare, had been staying at the Prince's palace instead of returning to the de Mare mansion since her fall.
She walked past Sir Manfred with a confident stride. Sir Manfred thought the Prince's companion's glance at him had been a haughty gaze, like that of a fool.
“Even if you let go of it when you are with His Majesty, if you crawl in right now, it looks like an easy puppy to tame.”
Ariadne turned to Sir Bernardino, the Knights Templar's housekeeper. She handed him a piece of parchment. It looked like a receipt.
“What is this...”
“This is a promissory note for 4000 ducats.”
In an instant, the room fell silent. Everyone in the room turned to her. Despite the explosive gaze, Ariadne's relaxed smile remained unwavering.
“This is what the Knights will be living on this month.”
This was a luxury only someone who could easily raise a similar amount the following month could afford. A halo shone behind Ariadne. Sir Bernardino thought.
'Where in the world can you find a woman like this...'
Even if you had brought home a Princess from a decent kingdom, she wouldn't have been able to squeeze out a check for four thousand ducats. In terms of the Knights' finances, and thus their cash flow, she was better than any monarch's daughter.
Sir Bernardino briefly considered that perhaps his lord was not a man blinded by love and acting madly.
'I just thought... I thought you fell in love at first sight and said you wouldn't mind even if she were a Countess... Our Prince, you didn't calculate all this before getting married, did you?'
Sir Bernardino's imagination ran wild.
"Our Prince, did you wish to conquer the continent with this military fund? Did you wish to become Emperor?"
Sir Manfredi shouted from behind in a much more sensible tone.
“Your Highness, you have truly married well!”
***
“Delpiano!”
Leo III went to his secretary with great arrogance.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“What do you think, when the Prince’s palace budget doesn’t come out, what does that little Alfonso say?”
“Not yet... not a word... not yet.”
It was natural, since Prince Alfonso wasn't coming to collect the money himself. Even if he had come in person, it wouldn't have made a difference. If he had, Sir Delpiano wouldn't have gone. Even if he hadn't, he would have ordered someone else to do it.
“He must be flustered and flustered, right?”
Leo III couldn't hide his excited smile.
“Should he crawl on his knees and apologize?”
“Well...”
"Why, you don't think he'll crawl on his knees? Is it because it's so far from the palace? Then how about duck-walking? No, if the Prince were to do that, it'd be a problem for my dignity..."
At that moment, Grand Duchess Rubina appeared in the King's breakfast room. She had already finished her meal separately.
"Your Majesty."
Her eyes were wide open.
“By any chance...”
Having said this, Rubina turned to leave.
“Oh, no.”
As soon as she heard the news, she was so curious that she followed him in a hurry, but when she saw the mischievous expression on the King's face, filled with anticipation, she decided to quickly turn back.
“Why did you stop talking?”
Leo III was furious. Lately, he'd been spending half his time losing his temper. Rubina was sometimes grateful for Isabella's presence.
“Speak clearly!”
“Your Majesty, have you cut off the budget for the palace?”
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