Chapter Title: The Portico
"..."
The surroundings grew quiet. Everyone felt the tension. Adelaide vaguely remembered that Cesare had caused several violent incidents. Judging by their reactions, it seemed he wasn't particular about who his targets were.
"Lord..."
Gigi tried to intervene with a troubled expression, but Adelaide spoke softly.
"Brother."
"..."
His eyes, burning cold like the morning star of hell, turned to her. Though a bit scared, Adelaide continued bravely.
"If it's alright with you, I'd also like to join Miss Lucrezia for dinner."
Adelaide's gaze then turned to Lucrezia.
"There's something I need to say to Miss Lucrezia."
---
Cesare sat at the head of the dining table, his elbow resting on the table and his left hand playing with the stem of his wine glass. His posture was utterly disrespectful, but no one said a word. After all, he was the head of the Bonaparte family.
The dining room was filled with waltz music. Not from a phonograph, but a proper string ensemble. In a separate space adjacent to the dining room, the Bonaparte orchestra played solely for the head of the family. Cesare paid no mind to his responsibility as the host to entertain his guests, savoring the music instead.
He could still feel the touch of her hand and shoulder blade from holding her while dancing. Adelaide danced well. It seemed his sister had been wasting her talent as a member of high society. It was hard to believe she had only learned the box step—her movements were so natural. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed dancing so much.
Her tall stature allowed for a large hold, letting him move freely and briskly. There was no need to observe her reactions meticulously like he did with ordinary ladies. There was no need to show off gallantry like a peacock in mating season. Having a shoe shiner as a partner was unexpectedly comfortable.
As the background blurred and he focused on the dance, a flood of sensations came into his vision. Her sleek collarbone, the valley of her chest, the hot back under his palm, her long, fish-like arms, and the waves of her dark green hair. And her fierce eyes, biting her lips while staring at him.
Feeling a heat rising in his groin, Cesare frowned and smiled.
*Damn it. She's unnecessarily pretty.*
Not that he wanted her to fall for him, but why did she have to look so indifferent? Irritated, he whimsically swung Adelaide around under the guise of dancing. Sometimes he intentionally pulled her hard, making her chest bump into his torso instead of their hips. Then she would inhale in surprise, sometimes glaring at him resentfully. She had no idea how much more that provoked a man. It was obvious she was determined not to react awkwardly, promising herself inwardly not to act like a rustic girl. Unaware of the common tricks played by lowly men while dancing, she must have thought how depraved high society was.
"It was fun."
Cesare muttered.
"What did you say?"
Lucrezia asked like a dog wagging its tail. Her voice alone ruined his good mood. Cesare frowned, but Lucrezia, smiling brightly, asked again.
"What did you say, Marquis Cesare?"
Cesare smiled broadly.
"I said, don't talk to me."
"..."
Lucrezia turned pale. Although, in two minutes, she would start talking to him again with her cheeks flushed.
Compared to that fool, how was his sister? Cesare glanced at Adelaide. As soon as she entered the dining room, she paid no attention to Cesare. All her focus was on the dishes that would be served.
*You guys fall in love. I'll just eat.*
She seemed to say. Adelaide's resolute mouth softened only after the antipasti was served. It softened so much that she even smiled slightly. Cesare wondered if today's antipasti was some kind of heavenly elixir. Of course, it was just a simple Caprese.
*Is cheese that good?*
He tried to move on, thinking her table manners were impeccable. But as each course changed from primi to secondi, Adelaide's eyes sparkled with joy. It was a delightful and amusing sight he couldn't take his eyes off.
*Could someone who grew up starved be so gluttonous?*
Sometimes, when Adelaide displayed behavior unbecoming of her origins, Cesare felt an unexpected surge of sympathy. Yes. She has tried her best and has talent, but in the end, she's still a shoe shiner.
"Ma-Marquis Cesare... Don't you like the food?"
Lucrezia, with her indomitable spirit, spoke again. Cesare chuckled as he picked up his after-dinner drink instead of dessert.
"Watching Adelaide eat makes me feel full."
Adelaide paused. Her eyes, lovingly gazing at the tiramisu, blinked in surprise.
"..."
"I mean it looks good."
Cesare smiled. He was sincere. Santnar is a country of seafarers. Even though the court culture of Orqueenia was transplanted, the base remains rough and tough. Naturally, they favor those who seem advantageous for survival, meaning those who eat well.
"..."
However, Adelaide, with a slightly darkened face, put her spoon down. Her usual expressionless face now seemed a bit sad. Cesare frowned and smiled. He really meant it looked good this time. It was tiresome having to carefully consider and cater to every compliment.
"..."
Beside him, Lucrezia, who had been picking at her food, forced herself to take a few bites but soon put her spoon down without eating much.
"If you're done eating, let's go."
"Ah..."
Lucrezia looked at him with calf-like eyes, but Cesare lightly ignored her. She seemed to realize she had been too insistent today and didn't cling further.
"Brother."
After finishing the meal and leaving the dining room, Adelaide, who had been silent, spoke up.
"Can I see Miss Lucrezia off?"
Cesare, who had called for a butler to bring the carriage, turned his head. Adelaide was looking at him intently. It was the first time she had volunteered to do something. Cesare looked at Adelaide, then at Lucrezia, who looked like she was about to cry and clearly showed her reluctance. Cesare spoke.
"Take Aegir with you."
"Just the two of us, Brother."
"..."
Adelaide's face was expressionless. Her intentions were unreadable. Her bright yellow eyes blinked calmly, indifferent to whether he agreed or not. Cesare smiled habitually. If you can't understand her thoughts, let her speak for herself.
"As you wish."
"Thank you."
"Then say goodbye here, Miss Della Valle. Goddess's peace to you. I hope we never meet again."
"Ah...! Ma-Marquis Cesare..."
"Aegir. Keep a distance but protect her."
"Yes."
Ignoring Lucrezia's attempt to protest, Cesare turned away. Gigi, who had followed him closely, whispered softly.
"Going upstairs."
"Understood."
Cesare headed up to the portico where the carriage would stop. A small space with iron outdoor chairs. This shelter, 'surprisingly,' had a 'slight architectural flaw,' allowing conversations of those waiting for the carriage to be heard clearly.
*I said I'd let them see each other off, not that I'd leave them alone.*
Cesare thought nonchalantly, draping his arm over the back of the chair. When he took out a cigar, Gigi quickly lit it.
"Have knights wait around discreetly. Lucrezia is alone, but you never know."
"Already done."
"Well done."
The quick-witted assistant lit the cigar and stepped aside. He kept his mouth shut, knowing his voice was louder than a foghorn. Smoke rose. Cesare blew out a breath.
*Going to such lengths just to let the shoe shiner have a conversation.*
Cesare, cigar in mouth, leaned back. The twilight was falling over Fornatie.
"What's the most urgent matter?"
"The most urgent is the material supply issue for the galleon construction. Treverium wants to reduce the trade volume of sulfur oil, lime, and cowhide with our guild."
"What's that nonsense? Who's the instigator?"
"Queen Rubinia."