Chapter Title: The Mask Falls
Adèle bit her lip and covered her feet with the hem of her dress. The thought of her neglected feet looking dirty and unsightly in his eyes made her feel dizzy.
"…Brother." Adèle blurted out anything as the nausea rose. The golden eyes, which seemed lost in thought, finally met hers. Adèle stammered as she spoke.
"I'm sorry… I didn't want to tarnish the Bonaparte name, so I practiced hard… and my feet got hurt." Cesare silently gazed at Adèle. Her head spun more and more.
"I found it difficult to walk, so I sent Epony away. I didn't expect such a thing to happen inside Bonaparte." Adèle trembled as she spoke. The water droplets on her eyelashes caught the light, scattering beautifully. The men watched her, mesmerized, forgetting the situation. The implication that the real issue was the immorality that had almost occurred within Bonaparte was only grasped by Cesare.
"Hmph." With a small sigh, Cesare's eyes regained their usual sharpness, like those of an untamed raptor.
"Yes, you're right." The next moment, Cesare lifted Adèle effortlessly. It was as light a motion as picking up a paper boat from the water's surface.
"Brother?" Adèle, startled, instinctively wrapped her arms around Cesare's neck.
"Your clothes are wet…"
"I told you not to overdo it. What's so important about reputation?"
"But…"
"There's no need to push yourself so hard that you hurt yourself." Surprisingly, Cesare said this gently, kissing the top of Adèle's head. Adèle's body stiffened, and the men were shocked. Cesare, seemingly oblivious to their reactions, whispered softly.
"Who would dare to doubt you when I've acknowledged you?"
"…But if I become a laughingstock in society, it could bring disgrace…" Her words faltered with embarrassment. Cesare didn't correct her but laughed quietly.
"It's people like them who bring disgrace. Family doesn't say such things."
"…" The nausea that had been churning subsided instantly. Her mind went blank. She had never heard such words, even as a joke. It was confusingly warm. Hot. _Isn't this too much? Are nobles usually like this? Is this what typical campanilismo feels like?_ What's the proper way for a lady to react to such disturbingly warm treatment? Caught off guard, she found herself reaching for Cesare's face. Pulling his firm, smooth jaw closer, she kissed both of his cheeks.
"…Thank you, Brother." This time, Cesare flinched. Only Adèle, who was in his arms, noticed it clearly.
"You're welcome." But Cesare skillfully accepted Adèle's kiss and wrapped his coat more tightly around her. As Cesare carried her out of the fountain, his lower body soaked, Adèle closed her eyes. She realized belatedly how valuable his clothing was. The coat might be worth around 1,500 gold, the trousers 800 gold. The shoes could be over 2,000 gold. Her head spun again. Surely he wouldn't ask her to repay it. If he did, he'd be a real scoundrel…
"Well then." Cesare rested Adèle's head against his neck and looked around. His brows furrowed, and a distinct curve formed at the corners of his mouth. His gaze was sharp, like a blade carved from starlight.
"So, who was planning to have fun with my sister?"
"…!" The men's faces turned various shades of blue, white, and red. Excuses and sycophantic smiles burst forth simultaneously.
"Lord, it was just a joke!"
"Yes! We were only trying to stop Sir Henry!"
"We didn't know she was your sister. It was a mistake…!"
"Interesting. So if she wasn't my sister, it would have been acceptable?"
"Well, that's…" Stammering, the men couldn't continue. Cesare scoffed at them.
"Don't worry too much." Their faces brightened.
"So you'll forgive us…!"
"I plan to harass your families in return. By mistake, of course, so please forgive me." Cesare laughed quietly as he passed by them.
---
As Cesare carried her through the garden, Adèle finally understood why women were so infatuated with him. His body, which held her, was as solid and steady as a sailboat, and she felt as though she were the most precious treasure in the world. Whenever Adèle squirmed and looked up, their eyes would meet. Each time, Cesare would smile sweetly, his eyes crinkling with a seductive charm that made her stomach flutter.
"Why? Are you uncomfortable?"
"…" Maybe because someone might be watching, but his acting was truly excellent. His smile—boyishly mischievous yet gentlemanly elegant—was so dazzling and leisurely that it seemed to want to seduce everything in sight. At the same time, it was affectionate, as if he genuinely wanted to comfort his sister who had been through so much. However, as soon as they entered the inner palace—
"Do I really have to do this?" His eyes, which had shone warmly like the sun, instantly froze over.
"I'm sorry." Adèle immediately responded to the voice that sliced through the air like a blade the moment the inner palace door closed.
"…If you want to drop me, I'm ready." Adèle spoke nervously. Fortunately, Cesare didn't drop her outright. He probably didn't want to see her joints break after carefully bringing her in.
"…I'll get down." Adèle couldn't even look at his face and clumsily climbed out of his arms.
"…!" She made a loud noise as she collapsed to the floor, forgetting the condition of her feet. A silent scream clawed at her throat. It hurt terribly. Barely stifling a groan, she remained paralyzed by the searing pain in her feet and knees. Cesare laughed sharply above her.
"You're doing all sorts of things."
"…" _That's right. This is Cesare. The kindness from earlier was just an illusion._ Knowing this didn't make it any easier. Adèle clenched her fists as she lay on the ground.
"I'm sorry. I didn't expect to run into you…"
"Where's Epony?"
"She went to get a wheelchair because I couldn't walk."
"That wasn't my order."
"…"
"I didn't hire a cripple who can't even stand properly in front of her siblings." His mockery flowed like a song. Adèle struggled to her feet. Or tried to. As she attempted to stand, something heavy pinned her foot down. _Ugh._ Adèle let out a pained groan and collapsed again. Sweating from the pain that radiated from her foot, she looked down. Cesare's wet shoe was stepping on her foot.
"Adelaide." Cesare, hands in his pockets, slowly bent down, casting a shadow over Adèle.
"Do you have some fantasy?" All thoughts evaporated from Adèle's mind in an instant.
"Do you enjoy being mistreated by many? Is it a habit you learned on the streets? Or do you just like any man with something between his legs?"
"…"
"If not, why did they think it was acceptable to act like that in Bonaparte's garden?" Her jaw trembled. Her whole body felt hot, as if being cut by a blade.
"…Are you saying I seduced them?"
"How would I know? You should know." Adèle swallowed hard.
"…I didn't."
"You didn't?"
"No." Again, a pleasant laugh echoed. Adèle's composure, which had withstood all kinds of street abuse, began to crack.
"Adelaide." Cesare slowly applied pressure to her foot.
"Madame Flavia is giving you a hard time, isn't she?" His monk-strap shoes made of fine cordovan leather moved slowly, crushing Adèle's foot as if squashing a strawberry in a jam jar.
"Can't you handle something like that? You could crush her with a power struggle or win her favor by being charming. There must be many ways. I even taught you."
"…"
"You're good at begging, at swallowing your pride. So why couldn't you handle this and let things get so bad…" Cesare's voice, leaning down to peer at the insect he was stepping on, pierced Adèle's ears.