She looked up at Prince Alfonso with an expression as if she had seen a ghost.

“Alfonso…?”

“Yes, it’s me, Ariadne. I’m here.”

Alfonso hastily embraced Ariadne in his arms. He knelt down on the ground, resting her head on his thigh and stroking her hair.

“Are you okay? Was nothing wrong?”

Only now a bruise started to form on Ariadne’s face from the unidentified man’s hit. It mixed with a blueish hue on her neck and shoulders, which were getting redder. Her blouse was ripped to the shoulder, revealing her neck and upper back.

“What is this…!”

“…Alfonso, it’s a big problem.”

He thought Ariadne was babbling due to shock.

“No, don’t worry, I’m here.”

Prince Alfonso also knew how this situation would appear in public. A young maiden, dragged away by an unknown man, her clothes torn, returned all bruised.

Surely, the San Carlo society would speculate something terrible happened. There would be no family who would want to take such a maiden as their daughterinlaw, and the maiden’s parents would likely send her to a monastery.

But that was only the case if others found out.

“I killed that man. He won’t be able to spread rumors anymore. No one saw it. No rumors will spread. It’s okay. Let’s quietly return home and recover for about a month. We can pass it off as if nothing happened.”

“…Alfonso. That person, you know?”

“No?”

Only then did Prince Alfonso turn to look at the fallen man. A remarkably burly man of average height was lying face down on the ground, wearing the uniform of a palace stableman.

“That person… looks like Duke Mireiyu…”

Prince Alfonso’s eyes widened in shock.

Prince Alfonso originally intended to bury this incident. A serious crime that happened by breaking through the strict security within the palace is treated as an attempt to assassinate the sovereign. They trace the instigator thoroughly, clarify the circumstances of the incident clearly and punish it severely.

If luck hadn’t favored and the target was different, the culprit could have endangered the state by aiming at the sovereign’s life.

Assassination cases are almost always magnified, the city gates, not only of the palace but the entire city of San Carlo, are closed and the city is scoured in a dragnet in a short time to prevent the culprits and their possible accomplices from escaping. That was the standard procedure to track down the assassin.

But if this incident gets big, it inevitably leads to rumors about what happened to Ariadne. Even if nothing happened, the San Carlo society wouldn’t believe it.

The tale of a middleaged, tubby duke from a neighboring country who abducted a maiden and took her to a secluded place, a young lady who was beaten to a bruise, and a prince, her boyfriend, who killed the duke with his sword, created a clear drama.

“Can’t be…”

The future of the disgraced maiden was obvious. If she didn’t take her own life due to her family’s coercion, she’d be sent to a monastery. Ariadne’s father was not a man who would stand up to public opinion to protect his daughter.

Even if he let go of the pursuit of political assassins, Alfonso couldn’t commit an act that would sever Ariadne’s social, perhaps even physical life.

But if the dead man was the representative of the Gallico mission, Duke Mireiyu, he wouldn’t be able to bury the incident.

“Is he really dead…?”

Dragging her aching foot, Ariadne went to the fallen Gallican and put her finger under his nose.

Alfonso also stood next to Ariadne, staring at the face of the dead man.

“This man, he spoke in Gallico.”

Ariadne explained in detail.

“He didn’t use Etruscan, but there was no problem understanding it. As if… he was a diplomat.”

“…Let’s confirm whether it’s really Duke Mireiyu.”

Alfonso spoke in a somber voice. He looked up at the sky. The thin crescent moon had long since set. Only the blindingly bright starlight mercilessly illuminated the two young lovers.

“…It might just be someone who looks similar. Let’s check his belongings first.”

Even though he knew that his words could be empty hopes, Alfonso had no choice but to say so. While searching the dead man’s belongings, he hoped that this man wasn’t the Duke of Mireille, a real rider who wouldn’t have any political repercussions even if thrown into the Tiber River.

“Please, please…!”

Something like paper caught the fingertips of Prince Alfonso, who was searching the dead man’s chest.

He hastily ripped open the dead man’s clothes and took out the paper he had been carefully holding. Prince Alfonso unfolded the paper folded three times.

It was a kind of contract written in Gallic.

“Please kill or harm Ariadne de Mare, the illegitimate child of the Etruscan nation, San Carlo Diocese, and Cardinal de Mare.

March 18, 1123,

Lariessa de Balloa.”

“What?”

Prince Alfonso gasped for breath. He could not believe his eyes.

He thought Lariessa was weird. He didn’t think she was a good person. But he couldn’t even imagine that she would do such a thing.

“What the hell…!”