<Episode 553> I Regret Marrying You
Alfonso roughly turned his body and pinned Ariadne underneath. Trapped between the soft down pillows, she looked up in surprise.
"Talk sense!"
It was a side of Alfonso she had never seen before. He was breathing heavily, barely managing to calm his anger. Ariadne blinked for a moment, feeling furious that she might have said something so terrible. However, before she could say a word, the agitated Alfonso spoke first.
"You fool."
Ariadne writhed beneath Alfonso, but fell silent upon sensing the sorrow in his voice. He whispered once again into her ear in a choked voice.
"A one-of-a-kind fool who thinks she's smart."
His thick lips touched the woman's earlobe, then slid down. A refreshing scent of citrus and cedar emanated from her long, flowing hair.
Alfonso vividly remembered the day he first met Ariadne. She was a shabby little girl huddled in a corner of the garden at the Rambouillet Relief Center.
It was only later that he realized she was two years younger than him. He had seen her as much younger because she was so thin and skinny. The girl he met at their first meeting was by no means fresh. A mixture of straw, sweat, earth, and the breath of the sick emitted a scent the Prince had never encountered before. If the girl from that day were placed side by side with the Ariadne of today, it would be difficult to recognize them as the same person.
Today, she was fair-skinned, had gained just the right amount of weight, and a pleasant fragrance emanated from her body, a blend of her natural scent and perfume. Her hair shone, and her skin glowed. It was impossible to hide the fact that she had been cared for by the kingdom's top staff.
However, the biggest difference was her expression. The girl he had seen under that apple tree back then had eyes filled with terror.
"You, forever in my arms..."
Alfonso swallowed his words, unable to finish what he was saying, "I just hope you are safe." At the Rambouillet Relief Center, Ariadne acted as calmly as possible to conceal any signs of her fear. However, her sharp green eyes constantly scanned her surroundings like a highly intelligent rat, searching for a place to escape.
This deeply pained Alfonso. No matter how clever a rat is, it is still just a rat. The rat kept clinging to him, begging him to let her rest in a perilous corner that no human would ever choose. When he nudged her to signal that it wasn't the right direction, she would be startled, shake his hand off, and run at full speed. Yet, perhaps yearning for human warmth, she would always peek her head out whenever they met. It was pitiful.
All he had done for her was stroke her head. But that seemed to be the greatest human kindness Ariadne had ever received. She had risked everything for herself. What began out of pity, amusement, and cuteness had, before he knew it, become a love on which his life depended. It took a very long time for Ariadne to shed her mouse eyes and smile like a human. And he would never let go of her human-like smile.
'Just like today.'
Forever, just like today. He took Ariadne to most strategy meetings and allowed her free access to materials from meetings she was unable to attend. However, there were many things Alfonso could not actually convey to Ariadne.
'I regret announcing my marriage to you.'
It was something he could absolutely never say to her. It was obvious how Ariadne would feel upon hearing this. However, contrary to her expected prediction, it was not because he was disappointed that Alfonso himself had been blemished.
'You have become my weak link.'
All the bad things Alfonso did were turned into actions ordered by Countess de Mare, who had stirred up the fine Prince. A shadow fell over the reputation of Ariadne, who had been praised only in society. This began after the marriage announcement made with the arrival of Princess Julia Helena.
"Just like her sister, she's excellent at seducing men."
"How can you deceive your blood?"
"Seeing how he climbed onto the top pretending to be demure, she's the real expert."
The whispering reached its peak immediately after the physical altercation with Isabella. It was merely a relief that she had not heard it directly, thanks to Ariadne being bedridden.
In the past, at debutante balls, Alfonso had personally delivered a sharp rebuke to the gossiping enthusiasts who took the lead in the gossip. However, now older, Alfonso realized that this was a kind of external wind he could not stop. Unless he intended to hang every single one of the chatterers, it would only result in the proliferation of vulgar Countess who had completely seduced the Prince and noble ladies of high society who had been humiliated by a Prince who had no regard for others.
'How foolish I am. How helpless I am.'
Alfonso fully realized this fact when he refused the trip to Taranto. It was entirely his own will not to accompany the procession to Taranto, and Ariadne had tried to persuade him to follow the King to the end. However, society firmly believed that Countess de Mare had refused to follow the royal court heading south because she found her own sister a disgrace. They had their own logic, too.
Thanks to Countess Contarini becoming a royal mistress, she now held a higher rank in the order of precedence than Ariadne, who was treated as a mere Countess rather than the wife of a Prince. Thus, the theory was that Countess de Mare had boycotted the trip to Taranto outright because he would rather die than march in a carriage behind Countess Contanni. It was of no use what explanations a few allies like Countess Manfredi offered. They firmly believed what they wanted to believe.
He spoke bitterly.
"The reason I don't start a rebellion is..."
The aftertaste of the word "rebellion" lingered in his mouth. It was bitter, and it also seemed to smell of metal. Holding Ariadne, whose eyes had widened like a rabbit's at the mention, in his arms, he changed the words and repeated them to himself as if making a vow.
"The reason I am not raising an army is not that I love my father."
Perhaps she is right. Perhaps childhood memories play a part in his hesitation. But if asked if that was the biggest reason, it was by no means the most significant.
'Because I love him. Because if I go to the battlefield, there will be no one to protect you. Because if I go to the battlefield and die, you will truly be left all alone.'
This was also something that couldn't be done.
'The public announcement isn't the problem. I regret marrying you.'
Alfonso sincerely regretted marrying Ariadne. It was not, after all, because he lamented that he could not marry foreign dignitaries, such as Princess Julia Helena. Now, he and she were firmly bound together.
Had she remained merely the Prince's mistress, his unmarried lover, Ariadne would have had a place to turn to after Alfonso's death. She could have lived out the rest of her life quietly as the Countess of the House of De Mare, or she could have remained active in the commercial world.
However, she was now too big a figure. If he were gone, there absolutely had to be someone to protect her.
'I thought it would be over once I got married and got her pregnant. I was naive.'
Leo III was much more stubborn than he had expected. Since there were no other options anyway, he didn't expect him to refuse to give his permission for the marriage to this extent.
'The mother of the heir to the Etruscan kingdom.'
If Ariadne had only been given this shield of legitimacy, she would have succeeded better than anyone else. However, Leo III did not allow even that small opening.
Alfonso's recent reluctance to touch Ariadne was not solely due to her miscarriage. By making concessions again and again, one could somehow survive if one were the spouse of a deceased Prince from a morganatic marriage. She had nothing to do with the struggle for succession.
But what if she had the Prince's illegitimate child? It would be utter chaos. She would be the perfect prey for a man with a lust for power but nothing to his name.
'...'
At that thought, Alfonso suddenly looked down at the woman trapped between his two arms. It was a dizzying sight.
'If this side of her were exposed defenselessly to another man.'
The woman blushed as she realized the man was scanning her. Alfonso's gaze was different from usual. Although they were not close enough for this to happen, she felt embarrassed all over again.
She squirmed in Alfonso's arms. She did so because they were pressed so tightly that she couldn't even move her arms. It was a desperate struggle to cover herself up, even just a little.
That meaningless resistance was truly unbearable. Unable to endure it any longer, the man buried his lips in the nape of her neck.
"Haaah...!"
The woman let out a groan at the unexpected surprise attack. The man's self-control snapped at that moment. His lips moved downward without hesitation.
"Ugh...!"
Ariadne, having regained the freedom of her arm thanks to Alfonso moving downward, tried to push his face away, but the woman's squirming body made her lose the last shred of her reason. He had crossed the line he had resolved not to touch. Ariadne let out a short gasp. He supported the back of her neck and thought blankly.
'You might really be a witch.'
Just like the people outside are talking about.
'I abandoned my father for your sake.'
The only reason the Knights of the Black Helmet were not occupying Palazzo Carlo by force was Ariadne. It was obvious that Countess de Mare, the wife of the Golden Prince, who had always been a model student, would be brought up as the reason for his sudden change.
'Abandoning the duty I owe to the Heavenly God for your sake.'
Alfonso sighed, "My Father in Heaven, is once not enough? If I die on the road I have set out to serve you, this woman will be left all alone. Completely alone, with no one else in the world."
In Yesak, he had never once feared death. Now, he was terrified. It was because he now had something to protect.
'Abandoning the people for your sake.'
The people were suffering under the bandits rampant throughout the nation. Yet, Alfonso remained motionless in the capital. It was said that any uprising would be perceived as treason against his father.
Once King Gallico's army crossed the Etruscan border, they would not simply march on peacefully. Even amidst that chaos, the Prince would close his eyes. Could he? No, he had to. Ironically, for he now had something to protect.
He closed his eyes and buried his face in Ariadne's skin. He enveloped his body in her scent and warmth.
A man in love had abandoned all the duties he was born with. For the sake of a single woman.
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