Cesare pointed to his waist, where he always carried a club and a hunting knife. It was a Toledo hunting knife, too long to be a dagger and too short to be a sword.
Ariadne drew the hunting knife and used its blade to tear the hem of her shirt underneath her riding outfit, then ripped it forcefully to create a makeshift bandage.
After searching for something to use as a splint but finding nothing suitable, she collected a few sticks, wrapped them with the makeshift bandage to create a support, and then used the remaining bandage to secure the splint just below Cesare’s wrist and elbow.
“What the hell, missy, you have such skills?”
“When you grow up on a rural farm, you learn a lot of things.”
After securely tying the splint, the pain seemed to have eased significantly. Cesare got up, dusted off the leaves and dirt on his clothes, and grabbed the reins of his grazing horse. He then looked at Ariadne’s fallen horse.
“This one’s not going to make it.”
A frown appeared on Ariadne’s forehead. From what she could see, there was no way to get the horse out of the Orte Forest, and with its leg completely broken, even if it could return, the best it could hope for was to be butchered for meat.
“What should we do?”
“Putting it down here is probably best for it. If we leave it here, it’s only going to be eaten alive by a pack of wolves.”
Ariadne felt sorry for the horse, but she agreed with Cesare that this was the kindest course of action.
Upon her nod, Cesare took the hunting knife from Ariadne and with a skilled flick of his right hand alone, he slit the horse’s carotid artery. The horse struggled for a moment before it fell silent and stopped breathing.
Ariadne closed the horse’s eyes. Cesare didn’t stop there and used the knife to cut open the horse’s flank and retrieve the arrow of the Janobi stuck there.
“How did this happen? Whose arrow is this?”
Cesare asked, cleaning the blood off the hunting knife on the grass before sheathing it.
“Well, it’s a long story.”
“All we have is time, isn’t it? Go ahead and tell me.”
Cesare surveyed the clearing in the forest where they were. Incredibly tall conifers towered high into the sky, with mosscovered tree stumps and rocks scattered around. The autumn sun was shining slightly below its zenith.
“It seems to be around lunchtime. Did you eat?”
“No.”
From his saddlebag, Cesare pulled out some dried jerky, took a bite for himself, and handed one to Ariadne.
“We’ve been running for quite a while, so we must have come quite far. We should keep heading south based on the sun, since we kept heading north from where the tents were. If the way is blocked, let’s follow the sound of the water.”
It was a rational story. Ariadne agreed to this point.
“Well, shall we ride the horse then? Will you ride in front, Miss?”
“What did you say?”
There were two people and one horse.
“No, so I ride in front and you ride in the back? This is my horse, after all.”
“We can just walk!”
“Why would you want to walk and leave a perfectly fine horse behind? Ah, you want to spend the night in the woods with me, our modest and devout Lady de Mare?”
“Shut your mouth.”
[This is the time separator]While the highest authorities of the two countries who wished for King Leo III and Duke Mireille were drinking champagne and at least outwardly creating an atmosphere of amiability, the working groups of the two countries were trapped in an indoor negotiation room arranged in a corner of the hunting competition tent, engaging in heated debates.
Soldiers were standing in the surroundings to ensure tight security so that no one could eavesdrop.
Despite lunchtime having long passed, the approximately 10 negotiators, divided on either side of a long wooden table, had only put out some finger food and drinking water on the table, and were still engaged in a fierce debate. There was not a single common alcoholic beverage to be found.
“We in Etruscan cannot get rid of our concerns about the status of the new groom.”
The overall person in charge of the Etruscan side was Count Marquez. He was pressuring the other side by flipping through the lineage and family tree of Princess Lariessa of Balloa, written on parchment.
“We are well aware that the Duke of Balloa is the seventh cousin of King Philip IV of Gallico, and is of royal descent. However, while he is of royal lineage, he is not the ruler of a territory. It is customary for a ruler to marry a ruler. Our Prince Alfonso is the only son and heir to the throne of His Majesty King Leo III.”
The Gallico delegation maintained a consistently cynical and condescending atmosphere.
“So, are you planning to bring over the princess from Sternheim Duchy? Or do you prefer the princess from Brunnen Kingdom since she’s of a higher status?”
Count Levian, the overall person in charge of the Gallico delegation, who had listed the names of weak countries with nominal rulers but poor national power, looked at Count Marquez with a strong implication that he wouldn’t bring the Princess of Brunnen Kingdom instead of Princess Lariessa of Balloa.
The Brunnen Kingdom and the Duchy of Sternheim were extremely poor small countries located in the cold north, even though they were kingdoms or autonomous duchies based on the lineage of their rulers and the lineage handed down from the ancient Lutan Empire.
However, Count Marquez didn’t back down.
“The reason we agreed to accept a daughter from the Duke’s family as our prince’s companion in the first place was because that daughter was none other than Princess Suzanne. We thought that even if her status was a bit lower, a noblewoman as renowned and outstanding as Princess Suzanne could adequately perform the role of the Queen Mother of the Etruscan Kingdom. But hasn’t it changed to Princess Lariessa at the last minute! We hope you can understand our disappointment.”
“What can you do about the deceased!”
Princess Suzanne, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Balloa, was a source of great renown that extended beyond national borders. She was highly regarded for not lacking anything outstanding beauty, ardent faith, and wise and considerate character.
Unfortunately, she passed away from an epidemic during a typhoid outbreak in the capital Montpellier of Gallico Kingdom last summer. Lariessa was Suzanne’s quiet sister who didn’t stand out.
“If the bride changes, the dowry should also change.”
Count Marquez finally revealed his true intentions.
“Please add 20 cannons and the method of producing gunpowder for the regular Gallico army to the dowry that the bride brings.”
An intense tension flowed through the negotiation room for a moment.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
