Chapter 13

Surely, she wouldn't dare to claim that the smock she was wearing was hers. Anyone could see that it was a maid's uniform.

"Lucrezia is raising the second daughter of Cardinal de Mare as if she were less than a maid."

"Even a distant relative or a lady-in-waiting wouldn't be dressed in such clothes. It really is a maid's uniform."

Isabella's pupils trembled as if an earthquake had struck. There was no way to salvage the situation. Her face turned bright red as she considered whether to lie further or to run away. Just then, Queen Marguerite, who had been silent, spoke to Isabella.

"Is this smock also something you wore?"

Isabella turned pale and clamped her mouth shut like a clam. For a seventeen-year-old girl, Isabella indeed had a quick judgment. When cornered, the best option was to speak less and escape. However, Lucrezia, who was not as astute as her own daughter, tried to salvage the situation.

"That... It wasn't me who dressed her like that; it seems the maids switched the clothes!"

Queen Marguerite clicked her tongue. In trying to argue that she hadn't mistreated the lady-in-waiting, Lucrezia had admitted that she had no control over the household. Queen Marguerite firmly waved her hand to stop Lucrezia's words.

"Enough. Take that girl and give her a proper smock to change into."

One of Queen Marguerite's ladies-in-waiting bowed and took Ariadne's hand to help her stand. As Ariadne was led away, she saw Lucrezia, her face flushed with shame, breathing heavily at the edge of her vision. Queen Marguerite had issued a social death sentence to Lucrezia.

"Miss de Rosi, the second daughter of Cardinal de Mare, I will have her change into proper clothes and keep her a bit longer before sending her back. You and the Cardinal's eldest daughter may return now."

The dismissal, without any consideration for Lucrezia's dignity, was the finishing touch. The title used for an unmarried noble lady, the implication that the children were not hers but only the Cardinal's, and the command to leave the group—all were a culmination of the worst nightmare for Lucrezia.

* * *

The path to the Queen's inner chambers, which Ariadne followed the lady-in-waiting, was one she knew all too well. It was the palace where she had stayed for nine years as the fiancée of the Regent. This was a back path through a side gate, rarely used, which Ariadne had always taken when she needed to leave the palace secretly for Cesare.

This path was the starting point of all her past misdeeds.

'I want to erase it from my memory.'

If she could erase all the memories and avoid repeating her sins, perhaps this time she could live as the upright and good person she wanted to be. Perhaps her past sins would be forgiven, and even the punishment she had already suffered could be absolved. Lost in thought, Ariadne stumbled into the back of the lady-in-waiting, who had stopped walking.

"Ouch."

But the lady-in-waiting's voice was sharp.

"Prince Alfonso is here."

The lady-in-waiting stopped and bowed deeply, and Ariadne, who had bumped into her, hurriedly took a step back and bowed a moment later. The boy who had once been the target of her past sins was now looking at her with his fair and clean face.

"Ariadne?"

"Alfonso?"

* * *

The secluded back path, though not well-lit, was bathed in a ray of sunlight that highlighted Prince Alfonso's golden hair. Ariadne smiled bitterly, remembering the day she had led the prince out of the palace to meet him and ultimately led him to his death.

However, the Alfonso standing before her now was an innocent seventeen-year-old boy, completely uninvolved in any power struggles.

"Alfonso, the prince?"

But even in this life, Ariadne could not be honest. Honesty was a luxury for those who had something to lose. For her, who had nothing, she needed to mix lies and deceit to reach a safe place. She needed Prince Alfonso's favor, and perhaps, his proposal. There would be many obstacles to overcome, but if she succeeded...

"Miss de Mare! How dare you!"

Ariadne was worried about her acting, but the lady-in-waiting, jumping up, covered for her lack of skill.

"This is Prince Alfonso de Carlo, the only blood relative of King Leo III and Queen Marguerite!"

Prince Alfonso stopped the lady-in-waiting.

"Carla, stop. I deliberately didn't tell her. Ariadne didn't know."

Carla, the lady-in-waiting, glared at Ariadne as if to say, "How can this be acceptable?" Ariadne bowed her head to avoid her gaze.

"I apologize, Your Highness."

Ariadne, watching Carla's reaction, bowed deeply to Alfonso.

"I have committed a grave disrespect. I humbly beg for your magnanimity to forgive me this once."

Strictly speaking, as the daughter of a cardinal, she didn't need to bow to a lady-in-waiting. However, from the situation, it was clear that this lady-in-waiting was a direct subordinate and confidante of Queen Marguerite, and everything that happened here would surely reach the queen's ears. Even though Queen Marguerite had just embarrassed Lucrezia to support Ariadne, it was more likely due to her dislike of all mistresses and concubines, not because she favored Ariadne. Queen Marguerite had suffered greatly from the mistress of King Leo III, Lady Rubina, the mother of Cesare. Lucrezia had merely taken the brunt of her frustration. If the queen found out that Ariadne had mistreated her only son, her attitude would change completely.

"Hmm, hmm. You have been well-mannered."

As Ariadne's formal apology calmed the lady-in-waiting, Alfonso's lips pouted.

"I don't like that."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't like it when everyone in the palace calls me 'Prince' and no one calls me Alfonso. I finally met someone who doesn't know I'm a prince, and now this."

Well, it's a matter of principle...

"Your Highness. People are different based on their status and nobility. It is only natural to see you as a prince rather than an individual, and you should accept it."

Alfonso's handsome and kind eyes, which usually looked innocent, now showed a deep expression of boredom and annoyance. Even the most upright person couldn't escape the rebelliousness of adolescence. Suddenly, the prince's eyes sparkled. Alfonso, with a mischievous smile, grabbed Ariadne's wrist and ran out of the Queen's inner chambers.

"Ariadne, let's go!"

"Aaaah!!"

The shocked lady-in-waiting's cries echoed.

"Your Highness!! Where are you going?? Your Highness!!!"

* * *

The place where Prince Alfonso led Ariadne was a small, rarely visited fountain. Ivy vines climbed the old fountain, and daffodils bloomed in the untended garden.

"...It's so beautiful."

Prince Alfonso smiled proudly. Ariadne, finding his youthful and mischievous smile endearing, smiled back. She decided to take a chance, though it was against proper etiquette, but her woman's intuition told her it would be fine.

"You really didn't like being treated as a prince, did you?"

"This is much better."

They faced each other and laughed, feeling a sense of rebellion. The camaraderie of doing something forbidden together swelled. Ariadne, who had laughed until her stomach hurt, played along with Alfonso.

"Last time at the orphanage, you were the only one who got different food, right?"

A shadow crossed Alfonso's face. He seemed to resent the special treatment he received as a prince, like a bird in a cage.

Ariadne paused for a moment before asking.

"What should I call you? You?"

"Call me 'Alfonso.'"

Ariadne smiled at the prince's casualness.

"That wouldn't be proper, Your Highness."

"Why not?"

"Didn't you see how Carla looked at me? She looked like she wanted to kill me."

Indeed, she had jumped up, calling it a grave disrespect.

"If I call you 'Alfonso' and get caught, she won't let me off easily."

"But you don't like it."

"Then, let's..."

Ariadne smiled mischievously.

"Let's make a secret name."

Alfonso looked at Ariadne. His innocent face showed no malice, but his attitude betrayed the inertia of a man accustomed to privilege.

"Then, you want to call me by a nickname, not just a name, the pet name of the only heir to the Etruscan throne? You're very confident, aren't you, Miss?"

A young noble lady might have felt she had made a mistake and become discouraged, but Ariadne, who had experienced everything, didn't flinch. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and put on a stern face.

"Keep doing that, and I'll call you 'Prince'?"

Jackpot. Alfonso's face showed clear disgust.

"Please, anything but that."

"Your Highness, I am deeply grateful. I wish you a long and healthy life. Is this what you want?"

"No, no. That's not it."

Alfonso, who had vehemently refused, surrendered.

"Sorry. Do as you like. Anything is fine."

Ariadne, having gained the upper hand, made a simple suggestion.

"Then, 'Al'?"

The prince shook his head, seemingly displeased.

"'Fonso'?"

"'Fonso' sounds more like a regular name than a nickname. It feels more like an alias."

The prince's resistance to the type of nickname was strong. But there's always a solution. Ariadne stepped closer to Alfonso and took his hand. It was a large and thick hand, unlike a boy's. She knew it would become even stronger in a few years. She forced his palm open and wrote a letter with her finger.

- A.

"Dear A. Let's use this."

Alfonso, who had been stiffened by the sudden hand-holding, stared at Ariadne. The woman in the guise of a girl smiled brightly and withdrew her hand from Alfonso's grip. The warmth left Alfonso.

"I need to go now."

Ariadne turned to look at Alfonso, who was standing. Her simple ivory dress fit well amidst the old fountain and the lush ivy leaves. Alfonso suddenly thought that the girl before him fit perfectly into the scene, as if she were a part of the castle.

"I was on my way to follow the lady-in-waiting because the Queen said she would give me clothes, but I ran away. If I stay out too long, I'll get in trouble."

He wanted to stop her, but he understood the reason.

"Ah, right. The Queen wouldn't be happy to know I was with you."

Ariadne, slightly surprised, looked directly at Alfonso. Despite his seemingly carefree demeanor, the prince had a clear understanding of his situation, which was very interesting.

"There's something I haven't told you."

Ariadne, who couldn't bring herself to say, "I also have things I haven't told you. I knew you were a prince and even killed you in my past life. You were engaged to my sister. Oh, and I'm a reincarnated soul," tilted her head and asked.

"What is it?"

"Actually, the Queen probably called you today because of me."

Ariadne smiled. She could see clearly what had happened, as if looking at the palm of her hand.

"You told her about meeting me at the orphanage."

She continued without hesitation.

"The Queen was probably curious about my son's friend."

"How did you know?"

Alfonso was amazed. No one had ever seemed to understand him so well. While a mother's overprotective behavior might seem obsessive, from the perspective of a thirty-year-old looking at a seventeen-year-old prince, it made sense. Alfonso, with his deep blue eyes, prominent nose, and strong jawline, was a perfect prince, as if he had stepped out of an ancient myth. If Ariadne had a son like him, she would have set a curfew at 4 PM, banned maids from the prince's chambers, and only allowed male servants.

"But the Queen didn't tell you she had invited you today. I just thought she might have called you for some reason, so I came to check."

It seemed that Queen Marguerite was more obsessive than Ariadne had thought. Ariadne thought for a moment about how to respond. Normally, when someone's mother is mentioned, the polite response is to praise her, but for a teenage boy, especially one who had just met her, saying, "Your mother probably had her reasons," would be like saying, "I'm a stick-in-the-mud, so please don't interact with me anymore."

Ariadne, who had navigated the upper echelons of society for nine years, made her decision in an instant.

"You must feel constrained."

Ariadne stepped closer and gently tucked Alfonso's hair behind his ear.

"It must be suffocating."

The girl's hand swept through the boy's smooth hair. The boy, eyes wide open, stiffened as the girl approached him closely.

Someone who understands me, with whom I can communicate, and who smells good. Her green eyes, straight nose, and red lips entered his field of vision one by one. He had always thought of eyes as just eyes, but now he could read countless stories in her dark, green eyes. Until yesterday, Alfonso de Carlo was just a child. He had little interest in others, especially women. He was more curious about events, games, and studies than about people. Today, he felt like he had become a man, at least a boy. His heart raced, and he couldn't stop thinking about her green eyes. The sparkle, the smile, the eyelashes, the nose, and then the lips. For the first time, the features of another person were meaningfully imprinted in his mind.