Chapter Title: Ripples and Consequences
To be clear, this incident had little to do with Madame Flavia's harassment. Adèle had been walking in the garden because it was part of the noble routine. Cesare knew that. He was just… annoyed. He couldn't present Adèle as he had planned, at the time and place he wanted. He had gotten involved in a petty power struggle between two women.
"…It was my fault." Adèle killed the rising anger within her several times over.
"…I was wrong. It was my fault."
"Glad you know." With a voice that oozed leisure and sensuality, Cesare removed his foot. As he straightened his bent waist, the shadow that loomed over Adèle disappeared. In the residual pain, Adèle stared at her feet—her feet, which were already oozing pus from the wounds. Noticing this, Cesare nudged her foot with the tip of his shoe.
"Make sure to get treated."
"…"
"Save the crying for Ezra." At that moment, when her eyes burned and her chest heaved, Epony burst into the drawing room.
"Young Master!" The maid, who had never been seen running or raising her voice, did both as she blocked Cesare's path.
"Young Master! The lady is…"
"Lessons are canceled for three days." With that, Cesare turned away coldly.
---
Meanwhile, while Cesare carried Adèle, a commotion occurred in a corner of the garden. The ladies from Fornatie, whom Cesare had instructed his secretary to lead to the outer palace, had a different plan. Cesare's secretary, Gigi, tried to guide them to the outer palace, but the weather was too beautiful. The ladies decided to stay in the garden a little longer, avoiding the foolish Henry and his gang, and headed to another garden. In the cypress garden, they saw Cesare carrying someone preciously toward the inner palace.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" The first lady who saw the scene screamed. Soon, all of them noticed Cesare holding a woman wrapped in his coat, with only her pale, candle-like legs visible.
"What is this? Is she really Lord Cesare's lover or…!"
"But she's barefoot! Lord Cesare never dealt with anyone but ladies!"
"Has his taste changed?"
"Whatever it is, it's not ordinary… Wait, did he just comfort her?"
"Gasp…" The ladies forgot to hide their faces with fans and stared in shock. It was indeed a surprising sight. Cesare never kept a particular lover. He didn't stop women from coming and didn't hold them back from leaving. He treated all ladies like queens, but it was clear he only saw them as temporary partners. Moreover, he had never shown such affection toward any partner before.
"This can't be… Who is she?"
"I should have gone to check!" Just then, the gentlemen started leaving the cypress garden one by one.
"What happened in the garden? Who is that lady?" One of the ladies asked Henry Fetch directly, but he snapped.
"Nothing happened!" The others were the same. They left with grim, uncomfortable expressions. No one spoke about what had happened in the garden. At that moment, Geneviève Malatesta, who had been watching, stood up abruptly.
"Larks of Fornatie! I think I must return home due to poor health!" The sudden announcement made the ladies widen their eyes, but they soon smiled knowingly.
"Take care, Miss Geneviève."
"May the Sea Goddess be with you all!" Geneviève barely heard their farewells as she hurried to the front gate of Bonaparte. She ordered her attendant to bring the carriage quickly, then urged the coachman.
"Quickly! As fast as possible—home!" Upon reaching the Malatesta residence, Geneviève hurried to her room, her feet moving swiftly beneath her dress. She opened her bureau and pulled out rose-colored stationery in a rush. The quill with a peacock feather dipped into the ink repeatedly. Ink splashed onto the paper, but Geneviève, her face flushed with excitement, began to write furiously.
_To Miss Lucrezia Della Valle._
_The autumn of Fornatie is in full bloom. The sea shines like polished oil, and the Lacrima River flows eternally as always. I am delighted that time flows as smoothly, and the day we can share joy again after your seclusion is near._
_However, I must share with you the shocking news that casts a shadow over this future. You must be aware that the envoys of Orqueenia are staying at the Bonaparte Palace? I was invited to interact with them. But… to my astonishment, I saw Lord Cesare Bonaparte heading to the inner palace, holding an unknown woman dearly._
_What on earth is going on? Lord Cesare, who is so wise, fails to recognize the value of a true lady and ignores you, Miss Lucrezia, but I always thought it was just a whim. But the inner palace? No one who had a fleeting relationship with Lord Cesare was ever invited to the inner palace._
_How much more will Lord Cesare tear at my friend's heart before he is satisfied? Ah! The thought of your pearly cheeks stained with tears breaks my heart. I wish the fire burning within me was just my own lungs and heart._
_I wish to meet you soon to comfort you in your sorrow. Perhaps then we can find out who this unchaste lady is who has ensnared Lord Cesare._
_Looking forward to our reunion,_
_Your friend, Geneviève._
Admiring her writing, Geneviève opened her door.
"Deliver this letter to the Della Valle family! As quickly as possible!"
---
Cigar smoke rose into the air. Although taking time to smoke slowly was considered a virtue of cigars, Cesare had never cared about such things. He smoked when he wanted to and threw them away when he wanted. Spending fifty gold for a minute of satisfaction was nothing to him. Opening the large window of his office, the night breeze flowed in. On the desk were documents about today's small incident. His secretary, Gigi, had prepared them. On top was Henry Fetch's information. The delinquent second son of the Fetch family—unable to continue the family line or live independently, a complete waste. The others were no better. The sensible ones had already left, shaking their heads at Henry's behavior. _Right. That was the smart move._ Cesare half-closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He planned to deal with those who dared to act out in Bonaparte's garden. Cesare didn't like those who didn't know their place. Of course, some loss was inevitable. There was no choice. He had already introduced that shoeshine girl as his sister. Now, whatever happened, he couldn't find a replacement.
"Huh." Cesare deeply inhaled his cigar, held it, and exhaled. The white smoke spread like waves in the night air. Adèle's dress, submerged in the fountain, came to mind. It rippled like waves, like a mermaid's tail. And her hair, glistening like wet seaweed, her skin as white as salt, her unnecessarily ample chest… Cesare could bet two ships that the men who had been there were probably thinking of Adèle right now, aroused. It was arousing. With a detached expression, Cesare took another drag of his cigar. _Where did someone like her come from? How is she still a virgin with that face?_ Yet she acted well. Cesare had been surprised when Adèle kissed his cheek. Despite having an aura that provoked people, her actions were like those of a nun.