Chapter Title: Beneath the Surface
"…What do you mean?" Adelaide instinctively denied.
Cesare, as if expecting this response, didn't even blink. "Talk."
"Nothing happened."
"Do I look like an ornament to you? Nothing happened, and you were sitting in the garden looking miserable?"
"I just like the garden…"
"Is it Ezra?"
Adelaide inhaled sharply.
Ezra Della Valle. She didn't want to cause any trouble for that kind young man.
"Sir Ezra didn't do anything wrong. He actually helped me."
She struggled to explain, but Cesare's expression became more severe and unyielding.
"Then start by telling me what he was helping you with. And what that fool Aegir was doing."
Adelaide felt herself growing short of breath. Why did he always have to speak like this?
"It's not Sir Aegir's fault. And if you hear his report about what happened today—"
"Adelaide Bibi."
Cesare finally uttered the name aloud.
Adelaide glanced around in alarm. Fortunately, they were alone in the courtyard at this hour.
She checked the windows along the corridor on the second floor before looking back at Cesare.
He seemed completely unperturbed, as if he had known from the beginning that no one else was around.
"Talk."
Her head drooped. Knowing Cesare wouldn't let his curiosity go, Adelaide began to speak, her gaze fixed on the yellow chrysanthemums at her feet.
"At the club… we talked about books. About Calvino, Giacomo, and Alessandro…"
"Get to the point."
"…We talked about Kimora."
"Kimora?"
Cesare raised an eyebrow.
Adelaide tried to speak without stammering, carefully recounting her argument with Lady Ravenna while keeping her emotions in check.
She braced herself for the inevitable hurt. Cesare always did this.
Surely, when she finished speaking, he would stab her with sharp words. But when she concluded, Cesare simply crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly.
"Is that all?"
"…Yes."
His predatory gaze fixed on her. In this moment, Cesare seemed devoid of emotion. Adelaide found it too burdensome to meet his eyes and stared at the chrysanthemums again.
Unexpectedly, Cesare asked quietly, "Can't you just let it go?"
"…"
Adelaide turned to look at him involuntarily.
Cesare, the head of the Bonaparte family, was staring at her with his arms crossed.
"You're a Bonaparte now. Can't you forget it? Why cling to a past that wasn't even good?"
There was no sign of blame in his words. Surprisingly, he seemed to be offering his own solution, trying to understand her situation in his way.
And it was a genuine question.
As someone who had grown up in a wealthy family, Cesare genuinely couldn't comprehend why Adelaide was still tied to Kimora.
Oddly, it didn't feel bad. He was making an effort to understand the shoe shiner from Kimora.
*Maybe the alcohol has turned him into a better person. Should I encourage him to drink more often?*
Adelaide couldn't help but smile slightly. Cesare, startled, widened his eyes. Clearing her throat, Adelaide decided to take advantage of the situation to speak more freely.
"Sir."
Cesare looked surprised again but quickly regained his composure.
"Talk."
"Do you know what the second best thing about coming to Bonaparte was?"
Cesare raised an eyebrow at the mention of "second," then replied.
"Your handsome brother."
"That's not even on the list."
"…"
"Ha. Underwear."
Cesare's expression became indescribable.
"…Underwear?"
"Yes. Matched sets, well-fitted, without holes, and even with lace. It was my first time wearing such things."
Adelaide smiled at Cesare.
"When you're poor, the hidden parts deteriorate first."
Adelaide had hated that about her life as a shoe shiner. Her outer clothes weren't great, but they were decent enough to face people.
But her undergarments were a different story. Necessarily hidden, they were worn out, torn, and stained with poverty. Seeing Cesare's puzzled expression, Adelaide looked up at the sky.
"Unless you live your whole life without underwear, you can't forget it."
Thinking back to the Verisimus Club, she realized that despite wearing a three-thousand-gold duveteen dress, she still felt like a filthy shoe shiner inside.
It had been only a fleeting thought that she was similar to them.
While she enjoyed discussing books, she couldn't fully engage in other conversations. She was too different from them in every way—from experiences to beliefs.
Lady Ravenna had simply highlighted this disparity.
Though she had responded logically, in truth, she had merely lashed out in anger.
"And I thought your plan might be more difficult than you anticipated."
"How did we go from underwear to that?"
"Because I'm a shoe shiner."
"Shoe shiners can't think logically?"
Adelaide laughed. Cesare had been frowning slightly since earlier. Was he feeling frustrated?
"That's how others see it. They think shoe shiners are uneducated, slow learners, not intelligent or resourceful. Because they're commoners. Didn't you think that too?"
"It was a joke."
"But it's a joke that works in their world."
Cesare remained silent, his brows furrowed, unable to deny it. Adelaide smiled gently.
"Still, I'm enjoying luxury. It seems I exceed their expectations of a shoe shiner, so they doubt me less."
Cesare sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair.
"I need to hear Aegir's report."
"Please do."
"So Ezra helped with that?"
"Sir Ezra…"
Adelaide paused, recalling the kind voice mingled with the sea breeze.
*"You look as though you're about to cry."*
And the warmth of his fingers on her face.
*…No need to share that part.*
"Yes, he helped me."
"…"
While she paused, Cesare's face had returned to a cold, expressionless state. He spoke with inscrutable eyes.
"Don't get too attached."
"Drowning people don't have the luxury of choosing."
Adelaide laughed quietly.
"Just like when I held your hand, sir."
---
Geneviève Malatesta arrived at the Stellone Resort at seven o'clock the next morning.
Adelaide appeared at the entrance a little late, wearing an indoor dress made of Saxony wool with a light tan cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.
Carried by her red-haired Brachiere, she apologized sincerely.
"God's peace be with you. I'm sorry. I should have set a proper time."
"God's peace be with you! It's all right. Really!"
Geneviève smiled as warmly as possible.
*This is what feels out of place.*
High nobles always made others fit their schedules.
*Come at eleven tomorrow.* That's all it would take.
*Even if she lived in Capolo, she wouldn't have lived like a commoner. Why doesn't she know this?*
Hiding her curiosity, Geneviève entered the resort with Adelaide.
Adelaide, receiving greetings from the servants, led Geneviève to the reception room. It had large windows on one wall, overlooking the sea.
"This is the guest reception room. Have you been here before?"
"No! It's amazing!"
Geneviève exclaimed genuinely. She looked around and sat on a sofa covered in high-quality chintz with floral prints.
"Is it just us here?"
"You're my guest."
*Wow…* Geneviève swallowed her amazement.
Adelaide paused as she was about to call a servant, then asked Geneviève.
"How about we have breakfast together?"
"Uh… May we?"
Adelaide smiled faintly.
"Of course. It might be a bit early, but it will be a special experience with you, Geneviève. Is there anything you'd like?"
"Anything is fine."
"Sir Aegir, please arrange breakfast here."
"Yes."
The red-haired Brachiere left, and soon the resort's servants quietly set the table.
Freshly baked brioche with a glossy surface, cornetti sprinkled with coarse sugar, and crostata filled with plums and cherries were laid out.