Chapter 32

Prince Alfonso, having barely slipped away from the adults, gestured to Ariadne and pointed to the back garden. Ariadne readily followed Alfonso out.

"You must have had a hard time getting out."

Ariadne offered words of comfort to the prince, who had managed to push through the crowd of noble men.

"No!"

Despite having to push his way through the crowd of noble men, the prince strongly denied it and smiled brightly.

"I didn't know you were coming today. How did you manage to come? Did you come with your mother...?"

Ariadne shook her head.

"Mrs. Romani, my governess, temporarily took over for Chiffon, so I was able to come. She's a relative of the Marchioness of Chibo."

"Still, it's good you made it. How have you been! Do you like your dress today?"

Ariadne blushed, remembering the incident on the oak tree.

"It's better than last time."

"What about the hairpin I gave you?"

Ariadne blushed again, this time out of embarrassment. While she could be described as gentle and elegant, or in a less favorable light, a bit sharp, the adorable pink flower-shaped jeweled hairpin did not suit her at all. However, she felt too guilty to tell the person who gave it to her.

"It was beautiful... but it doesn't match my dress today. I'll definitely wear it next time."

They continued to chat about trivial matters as they walked around the garden of the Chibo Marchioness. Most of their conversation revolved around how they had been, and while there were some important pieces of information mixed in, such as the court nobles' opinions of Ariadne, the overall conversation could be summed up as trivial. This was because, in reality, the words, sentences, and content of their conversation were not at all important to them. Alfonso's eyes only saw Ariadne's smooth skin, her jet-black hair, her emerald eyes, and the way her eyes formed half-moons when she smiled. He couldn't help but see them, even if he tried not to. When Ariadne laughed in a way that seemed absurd, her white front teeth and plump upper lip made her look a bit like a rabbit. The thought of kissing her lips sent a shiver down his spine. However, he couldn't go any further. He was a prince and the future ruler. The country would be his, but he would have to dedicate himself to it in return. A proper ruler, in his view, would do just that. His marriage would be arranged by his father and mother. Most likely, the woman he would meet in the future would be the daughter of some ruler from across the sea. Whether she would be beautiful, kind, or a good person was unknown, but she would come with treasures and the security of the state, either in her ship or on horses and carriages. In exchange for his compliance with this marriage, for forming a bond with an unknown woman, building a home with her, and having children, his country and his people would become safer and more prosperous.

"Alfonso, isn't that pretty?"

Prince Alfonso was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. Ariadne, with a cheerful expression, was pointing to the hydrangeas in full bloom in the Chibo Marchioness's garden and looking back at Alfonso. There was a narrow path lined with hydrangeas on both sides.

"Let's go there!"

Following the girl's lead, thinking it was fine since he didn't start it, they stepped onto the hydrangea path, which was a spectacular sight. The tall, white hydrangea bushes blocked the view of anyone who entered, and as soon as they stepped into the path, all they could see were the white hydrangeas, the deep green leaves at the ends of the path, and the clear blue sky above. They were alone.

In the sea of white hydrangeas, a single purple hydrangea caught their eye. It was the only one that had changed color so vividly among the subtly changing hydrangeas. He thought it was a bad idea.

If he didn't touch it, didn't get too close, didn't pick it, and just admired it from a distance, he could keep smiling and delay the moment of decision. Alfonso's rational mind thought this, but his mouth moved on its own.

"Do you want it?"

"Is it okay to pick it? It belongs to the Chibo Marchioness."

"Let's pick it secretly."

Ariadne burst into a refreshing laugh.

"How are we supposed to secretly take it? Are we going to pick it and throw it away? That would be a waste."

"Hide it in your skirt and bring it in."

Ariadne burst into a polite laugh and playfully hit Alfonso's shoulder. The touch of her hand on his shoulder made Alfonso's mind go blank. When he helped Ariadne climb the tree at the abandoned fountain in the Queen's palace, he did so without any ulterior motives. He held her arm and embraced her without any selfish intentions. But since then, the sensation of holding her arm, the breath she exhaled, and the softness of her skin and hair had haunted him in bed. Once he became aware of it, he couldn't control it. Today, Ariadne's touch, objectively insignificant, was subjectively special. Alfonso couldn't stop himself and softly called out to Ariadne.

"Come here."

"Eh, eh?"

Alfonso lifted Ariadne by her waist. Now, he couldn't even use the excuse that he hadn't initiated the action.

At first, Ariadne seemed surprised, but with Alfonso's help, she reached the top of the hydrangea bush and picked the purple hydrangea. She held it like a bouquet.

"How does it look? Is it pretty?"

"Really pretty."

Their conversation seemed smooth on the surface, but they were referring to different things. Ariadne was asking if the bouquet was pretty, but Alfonso was saying that Ariadne was pretty. Other guests strolling in the garden were occasionally visible. To them, everyone else except the two of them seemed like inanimate objects or wall clocks, but the common point between the wall clocks and other guests was that they told time. Men and women could naturally take a walk around the garden or the building, but if they lingered too long or secluded themselves somewhere, they would quickly become the subject of gossip. 'A natural walk' meant that the familiar faces they saw when they started should still be around. Ariadne and Alfonso realized that familiar faces were now sparse or almost absent.

"We should go back soon."

Alfonso reluctantly agreed with the hurried Ariadne. The image of her waist, which had fit perfectly in his hands, lingered in his mind. The yellow silk dress she wore had been in his hands for a moment, and its departure felt like the sudden loss of sunlight through a window.

* * *

"I thank the Marchioness and Marquis Chibo for hosting such a wonderful event, Prince Alfonso de Carlo for gracing us with his presence, and all the distinguished guests here tonight."

The art auction was finally beginning. The merchant who brought the auction items was a middle-aged man in his fifties with a sharp look, a pointed beard, and an overly flashy appearance.

"My name is Vincenzo, and I come from the Republic of Porto. I am the second son of the younger brother of Benazio of the Del Gatto family, who is the Minister of Finance in the Republic of Porto. Thanks to this connection, I am able to present these fantastic works of art today! You all know what will be up for auction, right?"

Despite emphasizing his connection to a powerful family in the Republic of Porto, the man had a strangely street vendor-like feel. However, the rumors about the 'Victoria Nike' were indeed impressive, and the invited guests, seated in the hall, buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

"We'll start with the smaller and more delicate items. These are paintings by a new artist from Urbino. Even if they don't catch your eye, please be generous and support a promising young talent. This is 'Madonna Maria with Daffodils.'"

Ariadne smiled. The artist, Urbino's Bernardino, would leave for the Papal States the following year after his portrait of the Marchioness of Urbino received high praise. He would continue his career in the Papal States and later be responsible for the renovation and frescoes of the Treviro Cathedral, making his value skyrocket. Urbino's Bernardino, despite being a new artist, already displayed a solid and stable style and brushwork. This was a time when young artists were bold and daring. If this didn't catch the eye of an art lover, they were either completely clueless or so refined that they would start painting themselves.

"We'll start the bidding at 5 ducats! Anyone?"

However, the Porto merchant's overly enthusiastic opening remarks had the effect of making the guests hesitant to bid on a work that would be worth several times more next year and unaffordable for most nobles in five years. Ariadne, not wanting to draw attention, waited a bit longer before bidding.

"5 ducats!"

"Oh, who is that? Ah, the second daughter of the De Mare family. The second daughter of the Cardinal has bid 5 ducats! Anyone else?"

The merchant, perhaps because he was from out of town, used an unrefined form of address, but Ariadne could overlook it.

"If no one else bids, I'll start the countdown. 5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"8 ducats."

The second bid came from the person who had just sat down next to Ariadne. During the countdown, a person had entered the hall and found a seat, even though there were other empty seats. It was a bit annoying that they chose to sit right next to her. As a lady, it was impolite to stare at the person next to her, and she was in the middle of bidding, so she didn't check who it was. Instead, the Porto merchant asked the person.

"Who is the gentleman who bid 8 ducats...?"

After a moment of murmuring, the Porto merchant, having confirmed with the organizers, announced:

"Ah! It's Count Cesare de Como!"

Ariadne, startled, quickly turned to look at the person next to her. Count Cesare de Como was just sitting down, removing his hat and adjusting his clothes. His high nose and delicate jawline were visible under his auburn hair. He ran his hand through his hair, turned to look at Ariadne, and their eyes met. He raised his left eyebrow and the corner of his mouth in a vague expression that was neither a smile nor a smirk, and nodded to Ariadne. It was an expression she knew all too well. Just then, the Porto merchant was looking for the next bidder.

"Count de Como has bid 8 ducats, 8 ducats! Is there anyone else...?"

Before the merchant could finish, Ariadne quickly shouted:

"10 ducats!"