Cesare spurred his horse without hesitation. His black stallion stuck close to Ariadne’s horse.

“Get your foot out of the stirrup!”

Cesare leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Ariadne.

Ariadne hastily shook her foot free from the stirrup, but her stirrup, being a lady’s model, was wide with a low instep, making it difficult for her foot to easily slip out. After some struggle, she managed to free her right foot, but her left remained caught in the stirrup.

While Ariadne strained to pull her foot out, a man’s strong arms fully supported her weight and lifted her up, transferring her from atop her brown horse to Cesare’s black steed.

However, her left foot was still caught in the original stirrup. As Cesare’s horse galloped forward, creating distance from Ariadne’s mount, Ariadne nearly slipped from Cesare’s hold due to her foot being stuck.

Cesare briefly halted his horse and once again pulled Ariadne close, tightly embracing her.

“…!”

Ariadne’s horse did indeed stumble greatly as its hind leg caught on a rock, just as Cesare had seen. It collapsed onto its right hip, as if kneeling. The moment one of its four legs gave out, the other three crumbled in an instant.

Since Ariadne’s left foot was stuck in the stirrup, both Ariadne and Cesare, who held her, heavily tilted to the left as her horse fell.

‘At this rate, both horses will fall!’

Cesare resolved to jump off his horse. He freed his own foot from the stirrup, let go of the reins bunched in one hand, and kicked the horse’s flank to send it forward.

As the horse took off, he leaped off while holding Ariadne, landing on his back and tumbling across the ground.

“Huff…”

As they flew through the air, the angle between the stirrup and foot changed, freeing Ariadne’s foot from the collapsing horse’s stirrup. Cesare, with Ariadne in his arms, safely rolled twice before landing on the ground.

-Thud!

“Ugh…”

The sounds of Ariadne’s horse collapsing and Cesare, with Ariadne held to his chest, hitting the dirt resounded loudly through the small clearing in the woods.

After enough time passed for the dust to settle, Ariadne slightly opened her eyes within Cesare’s hold. As soon as she confirmed she was unharmed, she crawled out from his arms.

Standing on stable ground with her feet was joyfully tearful. She inquired about the well-being of the man who had shielded her with his body as he lay on the ground.

“Hey, are you alright?”

In contrast, Cesare still lay collapsed on the forest clearing floor. A brief silence passed.

‘Is he dead?!’

Ariadne panicked, wondering if she should check his breathing by holding a feather under his nose. The huntsman’s arrow was still stuck in her horse’s hindquarters. Perhaps she could use the feather on that arrow under his nose…?

A tenor voice then taunted.

“Ah, it was nice having a beauty in my arms, but she gets out so quickly.”

At the very least, Cesare’s mouth was still alive. Ariadne sighed in relief that he wasn’t dead.

“Are you injured anywhere?”

To her question, Cesare chose a coy response.

“My arm hurts. I want to keep lying down.”

When Ariadne looked down at Cesare with disbelief, he met her eyes and smiled charmingly, his deep ocean-hued eyes curving into crescents.

“Since my arms are open anyway, why not snugly come into them?”

He maintained his position with his left arm sprawled out. Ariadne didn’t budge an inch and sharply retorted.

“Stop the nonsense and get up. If you keep that up, I’ll kick that arm with my foot.”

Ariadne approached Cesare’s side and tried to grab his hand to pull him up from where he lay on his back. However, she let go, startled by Cesare’s loud groan of pain.

“Ow, ow! It really hurts.”

Indeed, upon closer inspection, his left hand, covered by a deerskin glove, was swelling up. Unlike his right-hand glove which had some give, only the left glove was stretched taut.

“We should take this off quickly.”

“Take it off for me.”

Normally, she would’ve kicked the back of his head with her boot-clad foot for such a remark, but it seemed urgent to remove it before it swelled further.

Ariadne carefully removed his green deerskin glove, taking care not to touch the upper part of his arm.

She gently pressed along his sleeve and asked.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“A bit higher, ow! There!”

It seemed Cesare had broken his forearm, the part below the elbow, in the fall. Ariadne’s medical knowledge wasn’t enough to determine if it was the thumb-side radius or pinky-side ulna that had fractured.

“Let’s return quickly. We need to apply a splint or something soon.”

Ariadne looked around. Cesare’s horse was obediently grazing at the edge of the clearing, but her horse lay collapsed on the ground, roughly panting.

The joint of its right hind leg that had caught on the rock was completely bent backward, the broken bone visible between the flesh. The huntsman’s arrow was still deeply embedded in the horse’s rear.

“Give me your knife.”

Cesare indicated his waist where, in addition to his ever-present baton, a hunting knife was sheathed. It was a Toledo hunting knife, too long to be a dagger but too short to be a longsword.

Ariadne drew the hunting knife and used its blade to nick the bottom hem of the chemise she wore under her riding outfit. She then tore it forcefully to create makeshift bandages.

Seeing nothing suitable to use as a splint, she gathered a few branches and wrapped them in some of the bandages to fashion a support. She then tied the support with the remaining bandages just below Cesare’s wrist and elbow to apply the splint.

“What’s this, the young lady has such skills too?”

“Growing up on a country farm, you learn this and that.”

The firmly made support seemed to considerably relieve his pain once tightly bound. Cesare stood up, brushing off the leaves and dirt clinging to him, and grabbed the reins of his grazing horse. He looked at Ariadne’s horse lying on the ground.

“There’s no hope for this fellow.”

Ariadne’s brow furrowed. She also saw no way to bring the horse out of the Orte forest, and with its leg completely snapped, even if they returned, its fate would be nothing more than slaughter.

“What should we do?”

“Putting him out of his misery here would be best for him too. If left alone, he’ll just get eaten alive by a pack of wolves.”

Ariadne felt sorry for the horse, but she agreed with Cesare that this was the kindest option for the animal.

When she nodded, Cesare took the hunting knife from her and, using only his right hand, expertly severed the horse’s carotid artery. The horse briefly struggled before quieting and expiring.

Ariadne closed its eyelids. Cesare didn’t stop there and used the knife to tear open the horse’s rear, retrieving the embedded huntsman’s arrow.

“How did this happen? And whose arrow is this?”

Cesare asked as he wiped the bloody knife on the grass before returning it to its sheath.

“Well, it’s a long story.”

“All we have is time, right? Speak slowly.”

Cesare surveyed the layout of the forest clearing where they were. Impossibly tall coniferous trees towered into the sky, and moss-covered tree trunks and rocks were scattered about. The autumn sun shone high in the sky, just past its zenith.

“Seems about lunchtime. Did you eat before coming?”

“No.”

Cesare took some dried meat from his saddle, putting a piece in his mouth and handing one to Ariadne.

“We must have come in quite deep after riding for so long. Since I kept going north from where my tent is, let’s head south using the sun as a reference point. If the path is blocked, we’ll follow the sound of water.”

It was a reasonable plan. Ariadne agreed up to this point.

“Well then, shall we ride? The young lady will sit in front, right?”

“Excuse me?”

There were two people and one horse.

“Oh, so I should sit in front and have the young lady ride behind me? This is my horse, you know.”

“We can walk!”

“Why abandon a perfectly good horse and walk? Ah, you want to spend the night with me in the forest, our chaste and devout Lady De Mare?”

“Shut that mouth of yours.”

While King Leo III and Duke Mireuil, leaders of both nations, maintained a superficially amicable front as they drank champagne, the working-level officials were huddled in a corner negotiation room within the hunting competition tents, engaged in fierce debate.

Soldiers stood guard to prevent eavesdropping, maintaining tight security.

The approximately 10 negotiators seated on opposite sides of the long wooden table continued their intense discussion despite lunch having long passed, with only some finger foods and water on the table. Not a single drop of alcohol could be found.

“The Etruscan side cannot allay our concerns regarding the bride’s status.”

The head of the Etruscan working group was Marquess Baekak. He slid over a parchment detailing the lineage and family tree of Archduchess Larissa of Valois, pressuring the other side.

“We are well aware that Archduke Valois is 7th cousins with His Majesty King Philip IV of Gallica and part of the royal collateral line. However, being a royal collateral is not the same as being a sovereign of an autonomous region. Sovereigns traditionally marry fellow sovereigns. Our Prince Alfonso is the only son and heir apparent of His Majesty King Leo III.”

The Gallican delegation maintained a consistently sarcastic and sneering attitude.

“So what, you plan to bring the archduchess of Sternheim instead? Or is a princess of Brunnen more to your taste, given her higher status?”

Listing the names of militarily weak minor nations whose rulers nonetheless had sovereign blood and lineage tracing back to the ancient Ratan Empire, the head Gallican negotiator, Viscount Lebien, looked at Marquess Baekak with an air implying he wouldn’t actually bring a Brunnen princess as the prince’s consort instead of Archduchess Larissa.

The Kingdom of Brunnen and Archduchy of Sternheim were poor, minor nations located in the cold northern regions, though their rulers possessed sovereign blood and autonomous rights based on past lineage from the Ratan Empire.

However, Marquess Baekak didn’t back down.

“The reason we initially agreed to a ducal daughter as our prince’s consort was because that daughter was none other than Archduchess Susanne. We believed an eminent and outstanding noblewoman like Archduchess Susanne could fulfill the role of Etruria’s queen mother despite her slightly lower status. But at the last minute, it was changed to Archduchess Larissa! Please understand our astonishment.”

“What can we do about her passing!”

Archduke Valois’s eldest daughter, Archduchess Susanne, was renowned even across borders. She was a lady of unrivaled beauty, devout faith, and wise, considerate character – lacking in nothing.

Unfortunately, she passed away last summer after contracting the plague that swept through Gallica’s capital, Montpellier. Larissa was Susanne’s unremarkable and quiet younger sister.

“If the bride changes, the dowry should change too.”

Marquess Baekak finally revealed his true intention.

“Add 20 cannons and the Gallican regular army’s gunpowder manufacturing method to the bride’s dowry.”

Extreme tension instantly filled the negotiation room.