Chapter 17

"An adult has come from Asereto, hasn't he?"

"Shh! He's not an adult yet! The Holy Hall hasn't officially recognized him, you know. Be careful what you say."

"No, but the rumors are that he's an apostle from Asereto! They say he's a scholar of great virtue who knows everything!"

Asereto was a duchy and a large island at the bottom of the Etruscan Kingdom. Although they shared the same race, language, measurements, and currency, their dialects, ethnic characteristics, and customs were slightly different from those of the Etruscan Kingdom. 'The Apostle of Asereto' was a priest who gained popularity through his sermons in the Duchy of Asereto. The core of his sermons was that 'Yesak's Gon' was not the son of God but the son of a human, and that we ordinary humans can also become as excellent as Yesak's Gon if we try hard enough. This formed a school of thought, and now there are as many followers as a cloud. This was not a pleasant situation for the established powers. Those who followed Pope Ludovico advocated the doctrine of the Holy Father and the Trinity, and called for a council in Treveri to debate and conclude whether Yesak's Gon was the son of God or the son of a human.

- "We must firmly establish the theological nature of Yesak's Gon."

- "If we let the discussion flow naturally, Asereto will end up believing in a different religion from the mainland."

- "This is an opportunity to spread the true truth to the central continent!"

Each person had different thoughts as they prepared for the Council of Treveri. In principle, all bishops and higher-ranking clergy from across the continent had to gather in Treveri, the northern territory directly under the Holy Hall, to attend the Council of Treveri. However, Cardinal de Mare was not a clergyman of Pope Ludovico's faction, and Pope Ludovico, to secure a stable number of votes, prevented those not of his faction from coming to Treveri for various reasons. Cardinal de Mare, following the logic of 'who herds the cattle,' remained in San Carlo. The Apostle of Asereto, who was at the center of all this controversy, was also not invited to the party. As he was not a bishop but a regular priest, he did not have the qualifications to attend the Council of Treveri. Instead, at the behest of Pope Ludovico, he was invited to San Carlo, the capital of the Etruscan Kingdom, to deliver the sermon at the grand mass in place of Cardinal de Mare, who was a thorn in Pope Ludovico's side.

* * *

While the people gathered in the square in front of the San Ercolé Grand Cathedral, excited at the prospect of meeting the Apostle of Asereto, Cardinal de Mare's household was busy preparing for the grand mass.

"Pull it tighter! Tighten the rubber!"

Isabella had recently started using a 'chest pocket.' This was a device she had devised to mimic her mother's ample décolletage, and when a peddler arrived at home with a product made in the Moorish Kingdom, Isabella snatched it without even asking the price, and it became her favorite item. Isabella, finding that the chest pocket alone did not bring her chest together, stuffed cotton balls inside it and wrapped it tightly with a wide piece of linen. When she finally put on the Etruscan Kingdom's popular dress with a deep décolletage, it created a perfect optical illusion of having what she didn't.

"Miss! You are so beautiful!"

Malta, who had been clinging to Isabella's side since leaving Ariadne, loudly praised Isabella's beauty.

"How should I do your makeup?"

"With Taranto pearl powder. Use Gaeta rose water for the blush and lipstick."

In San Carlo, makeup was taboo, but everyone did it. While a naturally beautiful woman was considered the most beautiful, who could really compete fairly in San Carlo? All the ladies, without exception, subtly touched up their faces to hide the fact that they were wearing makeup.

"You are a genius, Miss. Everyone just bathes in rose water; no one thought to use it for lipstick."

Isabella smiled.

If one were to pick the most outstanding person in San Carlo in terms of personal grooming, it would undoubtedly be Isabella de Mare. There was no need to criticize the slow progress of Isabella's Latin lessons or court etiquette. Isabella was not a slow or dull student; she was very intelligent and pursued efficient study. However, she spent her whole day looking in the mirror, pondering which blush would best suit her purple eyes and how to pluck her eyebrows to create a naturally arched shape, leaving her no time for Latin, theology, history, or court etiquette. Time is given equally to everyone, usually.

"Let's use the new dress I had made last month."

The collar of the sky-blue silk dress was decorated with gold lace, and a long pearl necklace with large beads hung over the deep décolletage. The pearl necklace had a gold cross pendant the size of a palm. The end of the cross pendant touched the cleavage created by the chest pocket. Isabella knew very well that every man within sight would be unable to take his eyes off her when the pendant swayed. As she descended to the first floor where her family was waiting, she pondered how to pretend not to notice the men's gazes focused on the pendant and her cleavage.

'Should I turn my head to the side? Should I talk to someone? Who should I talk to? Ariadne?'

As her thoughts cascaded, Isabella glanced up and down at her half-sister, who was waiting demurely in the first-floor entrance.

'Why does she walk around like that? If only her hands were a bit better, she would look much better.'

Unlike Isabella, who was like a bright bouquet of sky-blue flowers, Ariadne wore a simple black dress. Her hair was neatly braided and pulled up, and she had no makeup or earrings. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a small silver cross on a thin chain around her neck. There was no way, by any measure, that this half-sister could threaten her position. Isabella, feeling generous, said to Lucrezia:

"Mother, look at that girl. If she goes to the grand mass dressed like that, people will talk."

Lucrezia's eyebrows twitched, but she was always weak for her eldest daughter.

"Giada, bring my gold earrings to her. The ones in the bottom of the second box."

At the mention of 'gold,' Ariadne's eyes sparkled. Lucrezia, reluctantly, had a servant fetch the earrings and, with a rough and emotionless hand, put them on Ariadne. She then hurried her two children and a servant into the carriage.

"Hurry up, get in! We'll be late!"

Riding in the elaborately silver-decorated carriage through the crowd of poor people in the square and entering the San Ercolé Grand Cathedral was always thrilling.

"Move! Move or you'll be trampled by the horses!"

"Oh, whose carriage is that!"

"It's the Cardinal's carriage!"

As the coachman lashed the poor with his whip to clear the way, watching their flustered and embarrassed faces through the transparent curtains was one of Isabella's favorite pastimes.

'Look at them, only running when they almost get hit. They should have moved earlier. Those lazy bums.'

It was like chasing pigeons in the square, but chasing people was much more exciting. In her always empty and boring life, such moments were the only times Isabella felt truly alive. The situation after entering the San Ercolé Grand Cathedral was always to her liking.

- Clank!

The central door at the entrance opened loudly to the side. They entered through the grand main door of the cathedral, unlike others who entered through the side doors, and marched down the central aisle like a bride walking down the aisle at a wedding, all the way to the front of the altar. Upon reaching the altar, they turned left and ascended to the balcony on the second floor. Only the royal family, Count Cesare, and Countess Rubina could sit in the balcony seats besides their family.

- 'Here she is. Isabella de Mare!'

- 'She's wearing a blue dress today.'

- 'That gold cross, wasn't it custom-made at Luca's jewelry shop?'

As usual, as she walked down the central aisle, women looked at her with a mix of admiration and envy, scrutinizing what she was wearing and what she had applied. Most of the men sitting on either side of the pews turned their heads to look at Isabella, regardless of whether they had their wives with them.

- "Dear! Maintain your dignity!"

- "Ahem!"

Even the men sitting in the side aisles, out of her line of sight, were seen craning their necks. Isabella had to suppress her urge to laugh out loud in delight. Today, Count Cesare had arrived first and was sitting in the balcony on the right, where the royal family sat. He was one of the leaders among the men who ogled Isabella during the grand mass. His gaze was always both pleasing and annoying.

'I wish everyone would desire me as much as he does. But I don't want to date Cesare, and I wish Alfonso would be jealous of Cesare's attention. I wish Alfonso would show interest in me.'

A perfectly self-centered wish. As she walked down the central aisle, her gaze met Count Cesare's. Isabella, with the intention of saying that she wouldn't date him but would continue to treat him well, gave him the most loving eye smile she could muster.

* * *

Ariadne followed a step behind Isabella, observing the lustful gazes. She had never received such gazes in her life. Men had not looked at her with such desire when she was young and unattractive, and after she became Cesare's, no one dared to look at her with such desire. Women pitied or ignored her, but no one had ever looked at her with such intense anger. She followed Isabella, feeling a mix of disgust and envy. Then, she met the gaze of a person she would never forget.

A man in his early twenties, with a cold, marble-like expression, stood with his arms crossed on the lower balcony to the right, calmly looking down. He seemed to be in a position where he believed he ruled over everything below. Unlike the young but rugged Alfonso, he had delicate features and a slender jawline. He was tall but had a slender build. His hair, a dark brown almost black, reflected the candlelight inside the cathedral, giving it a reddish hue. His two blue eyes, the blue eyes that Ariadne had longed for with all her heart, were fixed on the beautiful, emerald-like Isabella walking radiantly in front of her, without a flicker of movement.

Ariadne's emerald eyes filled with a mix of pain, regret, or perhaps anger. She had vowed never to associate with him again, but the 14 years of accumulated feelings were beyond her firm resolve. However, today was an important day. She couldn't let the event fail because of Cesare.

'Please, let the same events happen as in my previous life, and let the plan succeed.'

Ariadne clenched the hem of her dress.