Chapter 1: Betrayal, Hair-pulling, Obsession, Affection, and a Meaningless Promise

The blond crown prince collapsed to the floor.

A moment ago, he had credulously taken a big bite of the sanguinaccio dolce that Ariadne had given him. His death was the consequence of trusting her. Ariadne gave a grim nod to the soldiers on standby, and they swiftly carried Crown Prince Alfonso’s body away. The crown was effortlessly overthrown.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Ariadne mumbled repeatedly to herself. She knew she was committing dire sins, but there was someone she needed to protect.

Ariadne walked through the royal palace, familiar with it as if it were her own, and headed to the king’s chambers. No one restrained her while she paraded through the palace.

Waiting inside the king’s chambers was the receiver of her unconditional love and devotion—Cesare de Como. Despite being the king’s bastard and denied the title of a prince, he was her perfect fiancé.

“How did it go?!”

“…Prince Alfonso has been handed over to the soldiers from Pisano.”

At those words, the irritable expression on Cesare’s beautiful face disappeared as he smiled radiantly. It was as if someone lit all the candles in the room. Everything felt brighter and warmer.

That’s right. This is all that matters.

Cesare jumped down from his father’s throne and grabbed Ariadne’s hands. Her body trembled—she felt his overflowing joy and affection through the warmth radiating from his hands.

“Well done. Once we kill him, I will make you the most noble woman in the kingdom.”

“Cesare…”

“Father’s not well. He will pass away any day now.” With the old king on his deathbed and Prince Alfonso out of the picture, there was no one to stop Cesare. “This is the beginning of a new era—our reign.”

In truth, Ariadne didn’t care for a new era. As long as Cesare was happy and she was able to stay by his side, she was content.

***

Cesare de Como, margrave of the Etruscan Kingdom and Prince Alfonso’s supposed “cousin,” raised an army and invaded the palace as soon as King Leo III fell ill. Cesare’s pretext for his coup was that Prince Alfonso had attempted to poison the king, angering the heavens. Nobody believed it, but no one protested against Cesare’s countless soldiers who were crowding the palace.

Before long, Prince Alfonso’s dead body was hung in public disgrace outside the castle walls of San Carlo, the capital city. Cesare announced that the prince had been caught running away to seek asylum in the enemy kingdom, Gallico.

“See here! Prince Alfonso is a treacherous traitor who conspired with our enemy kingdom to poison the king and claim the throne for himself! I, Cesare de Como—no, Cesare de Carlo—will rule as the duke regent to protect the king and the kingdom! People of Etruscan, put your trust in me and follow me!”

* * *

Once Cesare became the duke regent after his successful coup, he spent nine years strengthening his status and laying the groundwork for his next steps. During this time period, Cesare needed a woman to help administer palace duties by his side. Since the queen had passed away a long time ago, Cesare’s fiancée, Ariadne, was now the most noble woman in the kingdom suitable for the task.

When Ariadne first entered the royal palace, her reputation amongst the nobility was absolutely atrocious.

“I heard that she’s only twenty-two years old?”

“I was told that she’s uncultured because she grew up on a farm when she was young!”

“I saw her at the party. She couldn’t even get the dress code right. I guess it’s because she was born in a barn.”

To them, Ariadne represented everything unjust and unsightly. She was the woman of the king’s bastard who’d eliminated the legitimate heir. She herself was the bastard of a clergyman—a cardinal at that. She wasn’t officially married to the duke regent, and she wasn’t cultured enough to fit into high society. She did her best to serve Cesare, but her efforts were viewed as unsightly—people believed her to be too hung up on a man since she had nothing else to flaunt.

Naturally, people derided the duke regent as well. When their insolent attitude was at its peak, an incident occurred at the customary tea party hosted by Ariadne.

An old countess from a historic family rooted in the capital city started chatting loudly about the secret of the duke regent’s birth. The secret was somewhat known amongst the central nobles who lived near the palace, but it was not well known amongst nobles who lived in the suburbs and countryside.

“I heard that Duke Cesare isn’t the prince’s cousin but the bastard child of King Leo III?”

The central nobles hadn't approved of Ariadne and Cesare from the start. However, slandering against Cesare in front of Ariadne was crossing the line. Ariadne clenched her fist tightly around her fan as they spoke.

“Is it true?”

“I heard about it too.”

“But a bastard child is the outcome of an obscene union… It can never be blessed by our heavenly God…”

Everyone had faced the countess, turning away from Ariadne who was sitting at the head of the table. They treated Ariadne as if she were invisible.

Their attitude was screaming out to Ariadne, there’s nothing you can do even if you feel frustrated by our behavior. You’re not of true nobility. You’re the cardinal’s bastard child. Even the crown that has your back was extorted by dishonorable means.

“No way. If it is true, how can we ever serve such a man as our king?”

“But there’s proof you see… His mother…”

Ariadne revered Cesare—he was the reason for her existence. He was dignified, strong, and enduring so much pain. Ariadne could ignore slanders about herself, but she could never forgive anyone who mocked Cesare.

“His birth records need to be clean in order to ascertain that he’s of royal descent. I believe Duke Cesare is of inferior origins and is unsuitable to become our king,” the countess said. She had triggered the conversation and concluded it as if she were the chancellor himself. Her decisive statement rang across Ariadne’s drawing room.

That was the last straw. Ariadne snapped. She flew over the table like a wild beast and grabbed the countess’s hair.

“Take it back!” Ariadne growled, pulling the countess’s hair violently. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You don’t have any proof!”

There must have been a more customary way for Ariadne to fight against the experienced noblewomen from high society. But Ariadne did not know that method—she was in her early twenties and had grown up on a countryside farm along with maids without receiving any proper education.

Nonetheless, Ariadne had to do something. She could not just let her beloved Cesare be ridiculed by this snobbish trash. “Take back what you said about Cesare!”

“Ahhh!” With her hair disheveled and tangled, the countess cried out at the top of her lungs. Dessert trays and snacks flew across the room. The rest of the noblewomen, who had noisily chatted along, stood frozen in shock gawking at the site.

Ariadne bellowed as she violently shook the countess’s head, “You should really think before you speak! Take it back and apologize immediately!”

“Oh my! How barbaric!”

Apart from the yelling and shouting of the two women, it was dead quiet in the drawing room. It was an unprecedented situation. The noblewomen stood by, flustered and unable to stop the hair-pulling fight that had broken out in the middle of the royal palace. At that moment, heavy footsteps rang throughout the room.

Stomp! Stomp! The palace guards entered the drawing room in an orderly manner and halted in place. Soon, an exceptionally good-looking man in a full-dress uniform followed them inside. His frame was slender compared to his tall height, and the leisurely tempo of his movements was oddly sensual. The man was handsome enough to be instantly noticed amongst a crowd of ten thousand people—it was Cesare.

“Cesare!” Ariadne grinned widely at the appearance of her hero.

He came to save me. It was perfect timing. Now her perfect prince charming would scold the enemy on behalf of his damsel in distress. Ariadne prayed that he would punish the wicked woman and her followers for deriding Ariadne and Cesare.

Ariadne let go of the countess’s hair and scurried over to Cesare to hide behind his back. “They—”

“What is the meaning of this?” Cesare turned to look at Ariadne as he raked his fingers through his russet hair.

His voice was kind and gentle. But…his lips weren’t smiling and his eyes were cold. He almost looked as if he was sick of her. “Ariadne, tell me. What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s that they—”

“Oh my. Countess Marques!” It didn’t seem like Cesare wanted to talk to Ariadne, and the countess lying on the floor was a perfect excuse not to. With a shocked expression, Cesare rushed to the countess and gently reached out his hand. “Countess, please take my hand and stand up.”

Even the countess, who’d had her hair pulled out, had not expected the duke regent to take her side. But her pride was high and she was not the one to miss an opportunity.

“I see that you’ve learned your manners from the royal family, unlike that woman.” The countess stood up and tidied her hair before brushing off her dress where Ariadne had touched it.

Then she glared at Ariadne and scoffed. “Hmph!”

Other central nobles gathered around the countess and asked if she was all right.

“Countess Marques, are you okay?”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“The duke regent’s fiancée really crossed the line this time!”

Ariadne wanted to yell back, “Look who’s talking!” But she bit back her retort at Cesare’s irritable—no—furious glare.

“What have you done? She’s a central noble,” Cesare spat out, annoyed with his jaw clenched. “Don’t you know that we need the party’s support? Yet you laid your hands on a Marques. Are you thinking straight?”

You submitting to someone who’s rude to me doesn’t mean that they will support me. Ariadne wanted to answer, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak due to his fierce expression.

As a matter of fact, Cesare would have thrown a fit if Ariadne had talked back to him. She didn’t want to fight with Cesare in front of the noblewomen. Actually, she didn’t want them to see Cesare talk down to her.

But Cesare crushed her hopes mercilessly. His seething voice slipped out between his tightly clenched teeth, barely buried by the surrounding noise in the drawing room, “The countess is much more helpful to me than you’ll ever be.”