Chapter 2

Cesare had never criticized her in front of others before. He thought that if his fiancée appeared inadequate, he would also seem lacking. However, after becoming the regent, he gradually became more unrestrained in his words and actions, and he no longer hesitated to show his displeasure, regardless of who was around.

"Don't upset those people, Ariadne. Behave properly."

This time, Cesare couldn't control the volume of his voice. His scolding filled the entire reception room. The central nobles were not the type to miss such an opportunity. The countess, realizing that Cesare had no intention of shielding his woman, quickly seized the chance to add her own comment.

"Regent, I hope you will manage your fiancée more strictly."

She openly scrutinized Ariadne, whose hair was disheveled, with a look of disdain.

"Attacking first and causing a commotion, I thought you were a lady, but you look more like a wolf dog from the farm."

The countess and her refined ladies-in-waiting joined in, launching a fierce attack.

"Refinement…"

"Education… lineage…"

"Your hair, tangled and messy, really looks like a shepherd's dog."

Ariadne's hand instinctively went to her hair. The ladies of San Carlo, standing in front of her, continued to lash out with their tongues as she awkwardly tried to untangle her hair with a comb.

"If you want a smooth social life and the support of the central nobles, you should manage your fiancée well."

The countess and the other ladies scrutinized Ariadne, who stood alone.

"Or, how about changing your fiancée? This woman seems impossible."

— You are not a proper member of high society. Their inner thoughts seemed to echo through the palace.

"We will take our leave now. Since the late queen passed away and the palace's master has changed, we can't enter the palace without being prepared. How uncultured. Hmph!"

As the countess led the way out of the reception room, the other ladies-in-waiting, who had remained in their seats, began to leave one by one, giving Ariadne a once-over. Ariadne's hair was sticky with caramel that had splattered when she jumped over the table, and her dress was in disarray. The tea party venue was empty, and she had no friends. The man she loved looked at her disheveled appearance with disdain. It was miserable. Although no one openly discussed Cesare's birth, Ariadne gained many bad reputations: being like a wolf dog, a Moorish slave, a farm maid. They also mocked her low birth, her resemblance to her mother, and her status as an unmarried old maid. She repeatedly asked Cesare to marry her to smooth out her social life, but he flatly refused.

"How can I make you the regent's wife if you can't manage your reputation? I can't be with a flawed woman."

His demands were specific.

"Study harder, become proficient in lute playing, art appreciation, and Latin. Try to become a talented and refined lady that I can proudly present to others. Then, I will make you my regent's wife."

So, she thought, if she could just do that, it would be enough. * * * It took a long time, but it was only a matter of time before Regent Cesare became Cesare I. He had the army and the gold in his hands. The only thing he lacked was legitimacy. Time, or rather, the opportunities that come with time, would heal that. Ariadne still remembered Cesare's ascension, specifically the day before his coronation. It was the year she turned 30, and he turned 36. She couldn't help but laugh when she thought about that day.

"I am a generous king. I must embrace the late prince's faction."

Cesare sat on the edge of Ariadne's bed and pressed his lips to her neck.

"A-."

Her breath caught at his warm touch. Ariadne tried to pull away, but Cesare pinned her wrists with one hand and pressed her firmly into the bed.

"Stay still."

He kissed her neck, savoring her. Ariadne's greatest asset was her alluring aura. She wasn't strikingly beautiful or particularly innocent, but her tall stature, well-proportioned figure, and captivating presence made her very attractive. She was more of a beauty that men admired than women. At 30, Ariadne was in full bloom. Even when she didn't want to, she exuded a seductive charm, which was the only thing Cesare consistently praised about her.

"Right."

As the warmth of intimate contact made her head spin, Ariadne heard Cesare's smooth voice.

"So, Isabella will be crowned queen."

Isabella Mare de Carlo, Ariadne's half-sister and the late prince Alfonso's princess consort. With her golden hair and sapphire eyes, Isabella was the perfect opposite of Ariadne. She was known for her pure beauty, always dignified, and a true noblewoman. Ariadne suddenly snapped to her senses and pushed Cesare away.

"What did you say?"

She must have heard wrong.

"Cesare…? Your sister was the princess consort of the late Prince Alfonso."

A widow without a son was supposed to enter a convent and spend the rest of her life there. Remarriage was impossible, and returning to her family was not an option. Cesare, pressing his lips to Ariadne's chest again, answered indifferently.

"Don't be petty. Don't you feel sorry for your own sister?"

What did I just hear? He's going to marry my sister instead of me? Ariadne pushed him away again. The words "What about me? What about everything I did for you?" lingered on her lips. Seeing that Ariadne had no intention of joining his pleasurable game, Cesare finally sat up and sighed.

"You were just my fiancée, so you can still find a good match and live a comfortable life in the provinces. But poor Isabella will have to spend her life on the cold floor of a convent if I don't take her in."

There must be some misunderstanding.

"Marriage to a relative's widow is impossible."

Cesare answered as if it were no big deal.

"We just need to get a divorce confirmation from the Holy See for the late Alfonso de Carlo and Isabella de Mare. Isabella remained chaste throughout her marriage, so she qualifies as an exception to the Holy See's no-divorce policy."

Ariadne was speechless.

"Cesare, your sister is not chaste. In 1128, during her first year of marriage, she miscarried a child from her brother-in-law."

"Be quiet!"

Isabella's chastity must have been a sore spot. Cesare, who had been talking confidently, suddenly turned red with anger, jumped up, and pointed at Ariadne.

"Lies! They say a woman's enemy is another woman, and even sisters are no exception. How despicable are women!"

Ariadne was so shocked she could hardly breathe. She tried to calm herself and speak in a composed tone to convince Cesare that she was not despicable.

"Cesare, it's not slander. The maids who served the princess consort at the time all know it."

"Quiet!"

Cesare was not in a state to listen. Reasonable arguments don't reach someone who has deliberately blocked their ears.

"I was going to marry you to a merchant and ensure you a comfortable life, but how can I let such a wicked woman live?"

A merchant? A comfortable life? It was absurd to even hear it. You promised to love me and be with me forever. I did everything for you. You said you were delaying my coronation as queen because of my flaws and told me to work hard and improve. But now, the "flawless woman" you seek is my sister, the widow of the prince?

"You said you loved me. You said you would make me queen and be with me forever."

It was a foolish thing to say, but it was all she could think of. Cesare sneered at her with disdain.

"I never thought you would be such a trivial woman who would hinder my great cause. You lack the virtue of sacrifice for the country's future. How can you be so different from Isabella, who even gave up her marriage for her sister's happiness?"

Now, her breath was coming in short gasps. She couldn't tell if the tears or the anger came first.

"You say I'm a hindrance? You say Isabella made a sacrifice? I sacrificed everything for you. I gave up my reputation and my marriage prospects, and I even drove Prince Alfonso to his death. What has Isabella done all this time?"

During the winter when Prince Alfonso and Isabella had a grand wedding and Isabella miscarried, Ariadne had to chew on the leaves of the rue plant, used as a contraceptive, every time she spent intimate moments with Cesare.

- "Conceiving a child is a sin in the eyes of the gods. I don't want to take any more rue."

- "What if you don't?"

- "…If you don't want me to have a child out of wedlock, then marry me and take me as your wife."

- "Ari, don't you love me? Prove it. Come here."

Her brave refusal was easily ignored.

- "How embarrassing would it be if I got pregnant before we're married? A bastard child from a bastard and a bastard, I hate it. Don't embarrass me in front of others."

If she didn't want to lose Cesare, she had no choice. In 1129, while Cesare was preparing for a coup, Ariadne, as an unmarried noble lady, secretly acted as a messenger, walking through the snow at night to deliver messages between the castle and the outside. No one imagined that a well-bred lady could play such an important role in military actions.

"I pretended to be a shepherd's daughter in love, climbing over walls every night for you."

She lied about meeting other men while taking the contraceptive for Cesare and climbing over walls. Ironically, the rumors that she was an unfaithful fiancée, which spread at the time, still haunt her even nine years into Cesare's rule.

"I even threw the rightful heir to the throne to the hunting dogs."

The kind and gentle Prince Alfonso, who had always been kind to her, was left hanging on the castle walls to be food for the ravens.

"These fingers! They rotted and fell off because I drank the poison in your place."

Ariadne held up her left ring finger, which was shorter due to rot. In 1132, during the fourth year of the regency, she collapsed after being poisoned with arsenic. She saved her life but lost her ring finger, which she had used to taste the poison. She later learned that it was Regent Cesare who had ordered her to use her left ring finger to taste the poison. It must have been a misunderstanding, an unavoidable situation, and the best choice. She could do anything for the man she loved most in the world. She believed he would love her as much as she loved him. She was now disabled from her sacrifices, aged by the time she devoted to him, and now weak and unattractive compared to her once young, radiant, and beautiful self. It was time for her to receive his care and repayment. Cesare looked down at her with a cold expression. His tall, imposing figure, his dark brown hair with a reddish tint, and his chiseled features, which contrasted sharply with his smooth, thin lips, were still breathtakingly beautiful even in this moment. He opened his mouth.

"Someone had to do the job of killing Alfonso. I couldn't ask the noble Isabella to do it, could I?"

Ariadne's eyes widened.

"You mean, you and my sister… even when Prince Alfonso was still alive?"