Ariadne had definitely approached Alfonso intentionally at first. She saw him as the golden key that could solve all her troubles at once the troublesome Cesare, the thorns of the de Mare family, and all her other hardships.

Marrying Prince Alfonso could surely clean up all her problems. Of course, there was the event of Cesare’s rebellion afterwards, but she knew a good deal of the cards Cesare had during the time of plotting the rebellion.

If history flowed as before, she could have stopped the rebellion.

So, she thought this was a perfect plan. It was beneficial for Alfonso and for her. There were no obstacles ahead if Alfonso agreed to marry her.

Therefore, Ariadne had set a trap to captivate the heart of the 17yearold boy, both times she had met him, first in the Lambuye Refuge and the second time in the Queen’s Garden, without a shred of guilt.

The guilt of trapping Alfonso in her past life with her own hands gradually faded. This time, she would put him on the throne through her marriage with Alfonso.

And she never worried or was anxious about his reaction. If he did not fall for her, she could set the next trap, if he did not love her, she could become a political bride and seize the place next to him.

Whatever the method, the result would be justified. If she could get Alfonso’s marriage vow in her hands, Ariadne would get very close to the freedom she had been dreaming of. Alfonso would also get his rightful inheritance, the throne.

But at some point, this clearminded boy who was her brotherinlaw in her past life seemed to have infiltrated her heart. She missed him when she couldn’t see him, she wondered about his wellbeing, she wished he would be curious about her, she desired him to miss her.

She wanted Alfonso’s heart, his sincerity, not a political exploitation or a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship. She wanted to rescue him from unhappiness and help prevent worries and concerns from overwhelming him.

“Pull yourself together.”

Ariadne shook her head from side to side.

Ariadne was not entirely safe yet. She had just got a breather at home now that she had gained Lucrezia’s accounting authority, but she didn’t know how the power dynamics of the house would change once the eldest son Ippolito, who was studying abroad, returned.

And as time passed, someday, Cardinal de Mare would die of old age and Ippolito, Lucrezia’s son and Isabella’s older brother, would take over the de Mare family. She had to leave home through marriage before that.

“I’m as good as dead if I fall head over heels for a guy.”

Besides, her track record when she fell in love was dismal. Even in her past life, Cesare was kind, cheerful, and joyful like a spring breeze during the times Ariadne was wary of him.

But after realizing that she had fallen for him and was dedicating herself blindly and solely to him, her fiance, without the support of her family, relatives, and friends, he became a completely different person.

“The snowdrops blooming in the mountains are like you.”

Ariadne was a free flower blooming in the field. She was picked when desired, and once tired of, was discarded back into the field.

Ariadne’s love was like a snowdrop’s bulb which had hibernated all winter and bloomed brightly again in May, it burnt again towards Cesare even if left alone over time.

The slightest breeze, for instance, when she saw a streak of a smile spreading on his carved marblelike face in response to her actions, the snowdrop bulb thought spring had come and burst into flower buds with all its might.

When she was dedicating herself to Cesare in the field without reward, Isabella became a beautiful rose grown in a greenhouse, thriving on Cesare’s attention and love.

There was no shortage of people more important to Cesare than Ariadne, from the ‘mere friend’, Countess Bartolini, the ‘artistic muse’, Countess Santarosa overflowing with musical talent (though Cesare didn’t engage in productive musical activities such as composing or playing, other than listening), to the voluptuous and sensual Mrs. Gentilini, a commoner who had no hint of refinement but was considered Cesare’s ‘soul mate’ and was told not to interfere with their interactions. Isabella was not the only precious and valuable one to him.

When there were no women, there were friends. A gang of misfits, led by the damned Ottavio de Contarini, always left their wives and fiancees at home and flocked together for games of trump, hunting, and bets.

Ariadne in love was unattractive. At least she believed so herself.

‘I will never, never repeat this.’

Ariadne, who was startled by the incident with Janobi, decided to depreciate not only Cesare’s but even Alfonso’s letters. Men are all untrustworthy.

Count Cesare, of course, and Prince Alfonso won’t be sincere. Even if they were sincere, one should not fall for it. Do not waver.

“I will take the position next to the prince without falling in love with him or anyone else, and become his queen. For my freedom and safety.”