The moment he saw Agosto, a sense of crisis followed by a rage that bordered on instinct boiled over him.
The skin care specialist who touches my woman up close is a man! And he exudes such a manly scent!
The Moorish skin care man's lower arms looked thicker than Leo III's thighs, which had lost all their muscle mass with age.
“A male skin care specialist!”
Isabella blinked innocently as she faced Leo III's fierce interrogation.
"Your Majesty."
While the base was innocent and pure, the expression on her face was filled with contempt, as if to say, "Do you really care about such trivial things?"
“Your Majesty didn’t ask, did you?”
“Ugh!”
If she were to give a long and detailed explanation here, she would seem like a really narrow-minded person.
Leo III took Isabella to a corner far from Agosto and shouted quietly but powerfully between his teeth.
“No! No, I can’t allow it!”
He could have ordered him to retreat. But his avoidance was purely instinct. Even the King of a nation couldn't control the animalistic fear of being physically attacked by a male stronger and younger than him.
“First of all, it is unprecedented for a Moor to enter the palace with an official position!”
Last time, when Isabella asked if he would mind if her skin care specialist was Moorish, he had readily agreed with her, but today, Leo III became the guardian of precedent and norm.
“It’s impossible for a suspicious person with no background like that to visit my palace!”
The employee's past history, which had not even been a consideration when the esthetician was assumed to be a middle-aged Moorish woman, suddenly became a major issue.
“You never know how dangerous that guy could be!”
Isabella scoffed. She quickly realized that Leo III felt threatened by Agosto. And unconsciously, Leo III seemed insignificant to Isabella, too.
“Is it dangerous?”
"Yes, danger! Threat! Attacking someone in the palace or using force!"
If that Moor were to attack someone, who would he attack? He'd probably aim for the person right next to him.
“What if they attack you!”
"Your Majesty."
The contempt and mockery in Isabella's croaky voice deepened.
“I’ve already been attacked.”
She pulled back the cotton cloth covering her lower body. The soft cloth fell away, revealing a deep, crimson scar carved into Isabella's left cheek.
Leo III flinched and trembled at the visual shock. He continued to keep Isabella by his side after that day, but this was the first time he had seen her scars in such a bright light.
“When I was attacked, there was no one to protect me.”
Isabella spat out every word, each one laced with resentment. With each grit of her teeth and movement of her lips, the thick, worm-like substance on her cheeks writhed and writhed.
Leo III was finally silenced by the horrific scar on the cheek of the peerless beauty.
Of course, the hideous appearance of the wound was startling. But even more frightening was the resentment in Isabella's gaze.
- You're my man. You should have protected me back then.
Isabella accurately read Leo III's fear of appearing incompetent. Then she gently scratched him.
“His Majesty's knights who filled the castle were of no help!”
She had an uncanny instinct for what would taste good. This time, it was bingo. Leo III's thin lips twitched.
“There is not one among those knights who has the courage not to fear Prince Alfonso and his band!”
Isabella would never forget the moment when Alfonso and his knights grabbed her by both arms and forced her to kneel on the ground.
When Isabella suffered such humiliation in front of the court's rabble, the knights of the guard, instead of intervening, surrounded her and watched. Avoiding the wrath of the future ruler was far more important to them than protecting Leo III's favorite.
“It would be the same if I had any of Your Majesty's men by my side! It would be no different if I had Sir Delpiano, Your Majesty's most loyal servant!”
“Nonsense!”
Leo III, who could no longer stand it, finally lost his temper when the specific person's name was revealed.
“Are you saying that you don’t trust me, the love and loyalty I receive from all people, and my abilities?”
It's a sore spot. For men, ability was proof of masculinity. One wrong step here could spell the end of favor. Forever.
Most governments, and Isabella, who was usually known for her affability, would have backed down at this point. But today, Isabella, having caught the scent of a weak male, didn't back down. There was clearly room for more.
“Your Majesty, you can’t be by my side 24 hours a day!”
She deftly changed the object of her faith to avoid Leo III's rebuke.
“It’s safer for him to be an outsider!”
Isabella, who had pushed Leo III this far, immediately changed her position.
"And."
Her tone changed. In the blink of an eye, she became an obedient lamb. Her demeanor was also supportive. Her head was bowed, her shoulders rolled forward, making her figure appear smaller, and her hands were clasped together cautiously.
The eyes of the pitiful, beautiful woman with a hideous scar across her face were filled with large tears.
“That man is the greatest pharmacist and alchemist in the East.”
For a moment, greed and suspicion simultaneously flashed through Leo III's heart. The greatest alchemist in the East? No, why would the greatest alchemist in the East enter a place like Count Contarini's?
Isabella threw out a bait made especially for Leo III.
“Make gold out of mercury and turn old people into youth with a mixture of herbs!”
At these words, greed raised its head above suspicion. What captivated Leo III was not the part about turning mercury into gold, but the part about turning old people into young people.
“If there’s someone like that, my skin could be restored to its original state...!”
Leo III interrupted Isabella and asked:
“Turning an old man back to youth...?”
Those words sounded like a sweet song to Leo III's ears.
"Yes."
Isabella's expression remained unchanged, and she answered brazenly. It was a casual remark. It didn't concern Isabella what Agosto was researching.
“Despite the efforts of the people of Orte Forest, there is no sign of any improvement in Your Majesty’s health.”
Her three-inch tongue moved smoothly. She was unhesitating when criticizing others, and confident when praising those she admired, even without any basis.
“The amount of money those people consume must be enormous, and I can’t tell if it’s a lack of ability or a lack of effort!”
When the topic of the Orte Forest came up, Leo III quickly wanted to divert the conversation. Hearing the story of the Orte Forest's alchemists could easily cause headaches.
Isabella caught the King's expression like a ghost. She gestured to Agosto with her chin and lowered her voice.
"That person could definitely boost Your Majesty's spirits. Without being as fussy as the Orte Forest people."
She took a step towards the King and took his hand affectionately.
“Your Majesty, this Isabella cares for nothing but Your Majesty’s well-being.”
Isabella took the King's wrinkled hand and placed it on her left cheek.
The old hands were a stark contrast, skin resting on bone. Though the King was not thin, not a trace of fat was visible on them. Her hands, as thin as tree branches, concealed the scars that entangled her face.
Ironically, Isabella's youthful beauty shone brightly in that moment, contrasting with the aged skin of that hand.
She whispered.
“May Your Majesty live long and prosper. I will stay by your side for a long time.”
Leo III nodded unconsciously at the soft, feminine voice. The moment her wounds were covered, Isabella regained her former, overwhelming beauty. Hia vision blurred. Two stories emerged, one he wanted to believe.
Isabella's loyalty and the possibility of regaining his lost youth.
“I am not interested in any other man, no matter who he is, besides Your Majesty.”
Isabella was smiling confidently, a smile that made Leo III think about Isabella's true nature.
'Yeah. She loves power.'
There were countless scandals Isabella had caused at San Carlo over the years. Some he remembered clearly, others he couldn't.
What he forgot was that Isabella had tried to seduce his heir, the Prince, at her sister's debutante ball, and that she had seduced the young Count Contarini, who was engaged to be married, from a convent and broken off the engagement, and taken her place.
There were two scandals that even the King remembered: the rumor that Isabella was the mistress of the Marquis of Campa, and the incident where she attacked her sister's fiancé, Duke Cesare, with a bullet.
'The rumor about the Marquis of Campa turned out to be a false accusation.'
No, the thought of "smoke coming out of a chimney" never crossed his mind. He simply brushed off the first incident and revisited the second.
When Leo III recalled the scandal between his son Cesare and Isabella, he should have considered Isabella's morality. But the old King focused on something entirely different.
'That kid has never shown any interest in a man without power.'
The old King glanced at the dark stranger in the corner. He was as big as his younger self, perhaps even larger.
The stranger wore only half the attire of the Etruscan kingdom. While the clothing itself was of the Central Continent, it did not conform to the fashions of the time, nor did it match any of the insignia required of a person of his status.
The silk sash, apparently purchased at the market in San Carlo, looked expensive. However, instead of being wrapped in the Etruscan style, it was tied in three colors, a combination of colors, in the Amhara style.
The trousers he wore were of excellent quality, made of fine fabric. The jacket he wore over them was of the cheapest fabric worn by the common people. The shoes he wore underneath, on the other hand, were the hunting boots of a nobleman.
A stranger is a stranger, and that Moor was ultimately an outsider.
“...Find out what specific talents he can use.”
This was permission for now.
Isabella lowered her head, her expression as smooth as porcelain.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Leo III spat out in a gruff tone.
“Let him throw away that strange outfit and dress in courtly attire.”
It was a call to dress appropriately for one's status: as befitting an outsider, a servant, or someone who serves only as a tool.
Isabella bowed again like a seasoned courtier.
“I wonder if there is any possibility.”
"I need to find out more details! I need to see if he truly possesses the knowledge of alchemy."
“I will send you the list right away.”
After Isabella left, Leo III felt something troubling. He felt uneasy, as if he had gone to the bathroom and done a great deal of dirty work, and hadn't cleaned up properly. He called for Count Depiano, who was always by his side.
“Hey, Delpiano. Where are Isabella’s quarters?”
The King asked Sir Delpiano about something he didn't know. Normally, this would have been an emergency, but this time, for the first time in a long while, he was able to confidently deny it.
“The arrangements for movement and accommodation during this Taranto tour were entirely at the discretion of Her Highness the Grand Duchess Rubina.”
Sir Delpiano answered, bowing his head.
“I have not yet been informed of the whereabouts of Countess Contarini’s lodgings.”
"Great, great! If you don't know what I'm asking, you should find out right away!"
Leo III was irritated. Sir Delpiano, who had been at ease, hurriedly ran, overheard a servant whisper, and returned after confirming the location of Isabella's quarters.
“It’s called the ‘Queen’s Theater’, located to the north of the palace...”
It was called the "Queen's Theatre," but it was actually a detached building, briefly used as an annex for a couple of rings, then forgotten. Its location at the far north end made it inconvenient to reach the main Winter Palace building, and its state of repair and furnishings were undoubtedly in disarray. This was a detached house exile, a warehouse that had been removed and relocated.
For a moment, Leo III was furious. He couldn't forgive Rubina for doing this without consulting him.
The intimidation he had felt from the Moorish servant earlier and the subtle slight he had received from Isabella had fueled his anger.
“Call Rubina now! Now!!!”
The skin care specialist who touches my woman up close is a man! And he exudes such a manly scent!
The Moorish skin care man's lower arms looked thicker than Leo III's thighs, which had lost all their muscle mass with age.
“A male skin care specialist!”
Isabella blinked innocently as she faced Leo III's fierce interrogation.
"Your Majesty."
While the base was innocent and pure, the expression on her face was filled with contempt, as if to say, "Do you really care about such trivial things?"
“Your Majesty didn’t ask, did you?”
“Ugh!”
If she were to give a long and detailed explanation here, she would seem like a really narrow-minded person.
Leo III took Isabella to a corner far from Agosto and shouted quietly but powerfully between his teeth.
“No! No, I can’t allow it!”
He could have ordered him to retreat. But his avoidance was purely instinct. Even the King of a nation couldn't control the animalistic fear of being physically attacked by a male stronger and younger than him.
“First of all, it is unprecedented for a Moor to enter the palace with an official position!”
Last time, when Isabella asked if he would mind if her skin care specialist was Moorish, he had readily agreed with her, but today, Leo III became the guardian of precedent and norm.
“It’s impossible for a suspicious person with no background like that to visit my palace!”
The employee's past history, which had not even been a consideration when the esthetician was assumed to be a middle-aged Moorish woman, suddenly became a major issue.
“You never know how dangerous that guy could be!”
Isabella scoffed. She quickly realized that Leo III felt threatened by Agosto. And unconsciously, Leo III seemed insignificant to Isabella, too.
“Is it dangerous?”
"Yes, danger! Threat! Attacking someone in the palace or using force!"
If that Moor were to attack someone, who would he attack? He'd probably aim for the person right next to him.
“What if they attack you!”
"Your Majesty."
The contempt and mockery in Isabella's croaky voice deepened.
“I’ve already been attacked.”
She pulled back the cotton cloth covering her lower body. The soft cloth fell away, revealing a deep, crimson scar carved into Isabella's left cheek.
Leo III flinched and trembled at the visual shock. He continued to keep Isabella by his side after that day, but this was the first time he had seen her scars in such a bright light.
“When I was attacked, there was no one to protect me.”
Isabella spat out every word, each one laced with resentment. With each grit of her teeth and movement of her lips, the thick, worm-like substance on her cheeks writhed and writhed.
Leo III was finally silenced by the horrific scar on the cheek of the peerless beauty.
Of course, the hideous appearance of the wound was startling. But even more frightening was the resentment in Isabella's gaze.
- You're my man. You should have protected me back then.
Isabella accurately read Leo III's fear of appearing incompetent. Then she gently scratched him.
“His Majesty's knights who filled the castle were of no help!”
She had an uncanny instinct for what would taste good. This time, it was bingo. Leo III's thin lips twitched.
“There is not one among those knights who has the courage not to fear Prince Alfonso and his band!”
Isabella would never forget the moment when Alfonso and his knights grabbed her by both arms and forced her to kneel on the ground.
When Isabella suffered such humiliation in front of the court's rabble, the knights of the guard, instead of intervening, surrounded her and watched. Avoiding the wrath of the future ruler was far more important to them than protecting Leo III's favorite.
“It would be the same if I had any of Your Majesty's men by my side! It would be no different if I had Sir Delpiano, Your Majesty's most loyal servant!”
“Nonsense!”
Leo III, who could no longer stand it, finally lost his temper when the specific person's name was revealed.
“Are you saying that you don’t trust me, the love and loyalty I receive from all people, and my abilities?”
It's a sore spot. For men, ability was proof of masculinity. One wrong step here could spell the end of favor. Forever.
Most governments, and Isabella, who was usually known for her affability, would have backed down at this point. But today, Isabella, having caught the scent of a weak male, didn't back down. There was clearly room for more.
“Your Majesty, you can’t be by my side 24 hours a day!”
She deftly changed the object of her faith to avoid Leo III's rebuke.
“It’s safer for him to be an outsider!”
Isabella, who had pushed Leo III this far, immediately changed her position.
"And."
Her tone changed. In the blink of an eye, she became an obedient lamb. Her demeanor was also supportive. Her head was bowed, her shoulders rolled forward, making her figure appear smaller, and her hands were clasped together cautiously.
The eyes of the pitiful, beautiful woman with a hideous scar across her face were filled with large tears.
“That man is the greatest pharmacist and alchemist in the East.”
For a moment, greed and suspicion simultaneously flashed through Leo III's heart. The greatest alchemist in the East? No, why would the greatest alchemist in the East enter a place like Count Contarini's?
Isabella threw out a bait made especially for Leo III.
“Make gold out of mercury and turn old people into youth with a mixture of herbs!”
At these words, greed raised its head above suspicion. What captivated Leo III was not the part about turning mercury into gold, but the part about turning old people into young people.
“If there’s someone like that, my skin could be restored to its original state...!”
Leo III interrupted Isabella and asked:
“Turning an old man back to youth...?”
Those words sounded like a sweet song to Leo III's ears.
"Yes."
Isabella's expression remained unchanged, and she answered brazenly. It was a casual remark. It didn't concern Isabella what Agosto was researching.
“Despite the efforts of the people of Orte Forest, there is no sign of any improvement in Your Majesty’s health.”
Her three-inch tongue moved smoothly. She was unhesitating when criticizing others, and confident when praising those she admired, even without any basis.
“The amount of money those people consume must be enormous, and I can’t tell if it’s a lack of ability or a lack of effort!”
When the topic of the Orte Forest came up, Leo III quickly wanted to divert the conversation. Hearing the story of the Orte Forest's alchemists could easily cause headaches.
Isabella caught the King's expression like a ghost. She gestured to Agosto with her chin and lowered her voice.
"That person could definitely boost Your Majesty's spirits. Without being as fussy as the Orte Forest people."
She took a step towards the King and took his hand affectionately.
“Your Majesty, this Isabella cares for nothing but Your Majesty’s well-being.”
Isabella took the King's wrinkled hand and placed it on her left cheek.
The old hands were a stark contrast, skin resting on bone. Though the King was not thin, not a trace of fat was visible on them. Her hands, as thin as tree branches, concealed the scars that entangled her face.
Ironically, Isabella's youthful beauty shone brightly in that moment, contrasting with the aged skin of that hand.
She whispered.
“May Your Majesty live long and prosper. I will stay by your side for a long time.”
Leo III nodded unconsciously at the soft, feminine voice. The moment her wounds were covered, Isabella regained her former, overwhelming beauty. Hia vision blurred. Two stories emerged, one he wanted to believe.
Isabella's loyalty and the possibility of regaining his lost youth.
“I am not interested in any other man, no matter who he is, besides Your Majesty.”
Isabella was smiling confidently, a smile that made Leo III think about Isabella's true nature.
'Yeah. She loves power.'
There were countless scandals Isabella had caused at San Carlo over the years. Some he remembered clearly, others he couldn't.
What he forgot was that Isabella had tried to seduce his heir, the Prince, at her sister's debutante ball, and that she had seduced the young Count Contarini, who was engaged to be married, from a convent and broken off the engagement, and taken her place.
There were two scandals that even the King remembered: the rumor that Isabella was the mistress of the Marquis of Campa, and the incident where she attacked her sister's fiancé, Duke Cesare, with a bullet.
'The rumor about the Marquis of Campa turned out to be a false accusation.'
No, the thought of "smoke coming out of a chimney" never crossed his mind. He simply brushed off the first incident and revisited the second.
When Leo III recalled the scandal between his son Cesare and Isabella, he should have considered Isabella's morality. But the old King focused on something entirely different.
'That kid has never shown any interest in a man without power.'
The old King glanced at the dark stranger in the corner. He was as big as his younger self, perhaps even larger.
The stranger wore only half the attire of the Etruscan kingdom. While the clothing itself was of the Central Continent, it did not conform to the fashions of the time, nor did it match any of the insignia required of a person of his status.
The silk sash, apparently purchased at the market in San Carlo, looked expensive. However, instead of being wrapped in the Etruscan style, it was tied in three colors, a combination of colors, in the Amhara style.
The trousers he wore were of excellent quality, made of fine fabric. The jacket he wore over them was of the cheapest fabric worn by the common people. The shoes he wore underneath, on the other hand, were the hunting boots of a nobleman.
A stranger is a stranger, and that Moor was ultimately an outsider.
“...Find out what specific talents he can use.”
This was permission for now.
Isabella lowered her head, her expression as smooth as porcelain.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Leo III spat out in a gruff tone.
“Let him throw away that strange outfit and dress in courtly attire.”
It was a call to dress appropriately for one's status: as befitting an outsider, a servant, or someone who serves only as a tool.
Isabella bowed again like a seasoned courtier.
“I wonder if there is any possibility.”
"I need to find out more details! I need to see if he truly possesses the knowledge of alchemy."
“I will send you the list right away.”
***
After Isabella left, Leo III felt something troubling. He felt uneasy, as if he had gone to the bathroom and done a great deal of dirty work, and hadn't cleaned up properly. He called for Count Depiano, who was always by his side.
“Hey, Delpiano. Where are Isabella’s quarters?”
The King asked Sir Delpiano about something he didn't know. Normally, this would have been an emergency, but this time, for the first time in a long while, he was able to confidently deny it.
“The arrangements for movement and accommodation during this Taranto tour were entirely at the discretion of Her Highness the Grand Duchess Rubina.”
Sir Delpiano answered, bowing his head.
“I have not yet been informed of the whereabouts of Countess Contarini’s lodgings.”
"Great, great! If you don't know what I'm asking, you should find out right away!"
Leo III was irritated. Sir Delpiano, who had been at ease, hurriedly ran, overheard a servant whisper, and returned after confirming the location of Isabella's quarters.
“It’s called the ‘Queen’s Theater’, located to the north of the palace...”
It was called the "Queen's Theatre," but it was actually a detached building, briefly used as an annex for a couple of rings, then forgotten. Its location at the far north end made it inconvenient to reach the main Winter Palace building, and its state of repair and furnishings were undoubtedly in disarray. This was a detached house exile, a warehouse that had been removed and relocated.
For a moment, Leo III was furious. He couldn't forgive Rubina for doing this without consulting him.
The intimidation he had felt from the Moorish servant earlier and the subtle slight he had received from Isabella had fueled his anger.
“Call Rubina now! Now!!!”
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