It was courtesy to send a return gift when receiving a gift. Ariadne ordered a mountain tea and applied it to the bandage, claiming it was a potent medicine for scars.

“To Count de Como,

This is an effective scar treatment. Please recover quickly, meet a good woman with that beautiful face, and build a happy home.

From Ariadne de Mare.”

It was the first reply that Ariadne of this life sent to Cesare.

The letter that Ariadne was eagerly waiting for arrived only the day after the hunting party incident. It was a letter from Prince Alfonso, who could not stop his pen upon hearing of the accident that befell Ariadne.

“To dear Ariadne,

I am very sorry to hear about the serious incident at the hunting party. You’re not hurt, are you? I was greatly disappointed that the queen had only whipped the slave for mere property damage, not attempted murder.

Even though the Gallico delegation was watching, I think we should have shown the spirit of Etruscan. And it’s hard to deny that there is no selfishness in my dissatisfaction with the lenient punishment of the criminal. Again, you’re not hurt, are you?”

Leo III, having gained a reputation for mercy, not only did not cut off relations with Cardinal de Mare, but also prevented the slave from harming others, but ended up putting the devil’s hand.

In San Carlo, there was a coexisting criticism that Leo III was overly lenient with the slave de Rossi and that it was too harsh to even stop the knight’s resignation for shooting a woman.

It was because he did not give strength to anyone and took an ambiguous attitude. When a power holder is not resolute when they need to be, all kinds of opinions boil up, and it is customary to express them freely according to the atmosphere.

Even his own son had grievances about his father’s treatment.

The fact that the heir to the throne, the prince, commented on his father’s handling was in fact a very delicate matter.

Politically, it was either a bold strategy or a devil’s move, and it was a letter that Queen Marguerite would have torn and burned in the fireplace if she saw it.

But Alfonso had already crossed a line just by writing the letter. There was no reason not to do it twice after he had already done it once. Before Ariadne, he was always disarmed.

The prince’s letter continued. His handwriting was not rough.

“At the end of October, there will be a masquerade at the palace. I was very disappointed that we couldn’t meet separately at the hunting party. I hope you will come to the masquerade once your shocked heart has calmed down.

“Let’s meet and share the stories we’ve missed. I’ve missed you so much since we haven’t seen each other for so long.”

His mother had always cautioned him against confronting others. The masquerade was a perfect opportunity to meet unnoticed.

He had forgotten his mother’s injunction not to write at all. He was the only one who had feelings for Ariadne. The fierce and decisive girl wouldn’t even imagine such a thing. It had to be that way.

“By midNovember, it seems like the entire court will head south to spend the winter. The court aristocrats are all going together, but from what I’ve asked around, the cardinal’s family has never joined because of diocese management. It would be great if we could go together.

The Taranto palace remains verdant and the sun is hot even in winter. The slightly dry air and the smell of the sea tickle your nose, it’s quite different from San Carlo. It’s a small but beautiful palace. I really want to show it to you.

Take care of your health. Health is most important.

With worry, Alfonso.”

It was a much longer letter compared to the brief notes he had been sending. Looking at the tightly pressed handwriting and the ink bleeding between the lines, it seemed he had written it with much deliberation.

The sentences ‘I’ve missed you so much since we haven’t seen each other for so long’ and ‘I really want to show it to you’ were written a bit messily with a thick pen tip, and there were blue ink smudges where it looked like something had been written and then erased.

In contrast to the letter from Count Cesare, which had an effortlessly elegant handwriting as if he hadn’t even given it a thought, like it was typed out.

Ariadne looked at Alfonso’s letter with a bewildered heart.

‘What’s all this?’

What’s the big deal about a single letter, that she had waited so anxiously and unwaveringly for it.