Chapter Title: The Hawk's Message
Palmina managed to ask.
"...Are you serious? Isn't that something you should discuss with Prince Cesare?"
"My brother told me to spend my pension as I please."
Adele said casually. Palmina's eyes wavered. It seemed her conscience was what truly wavered, but the hesitation was short-lived.
"Very well! I accept."
Palmina slammed her hand on the armrest.
"But you will have to take responsibility for your words. And just in case, you'd better put this promise in writing."
"That's fine. But if I win, you should return my stake and donate the rest of the money in Buonaparte's name for the development of Kimora."
"I'll write whatever you want!"
Watching this, Geneviève's complexion turned white.
*This is madness. Everyone's gone mad. Adelaide is the maddest of all!*
Seeing that Lady Palmina had indeed brought out paper to formalize the agreement, Geneviève jumped to her feet. Someone had to stop this insanity.
"Forgive me, ladies of Fornatier. Geneviève must step away for a moment!"
Geneviève whispered her excuse and ran out of the parlor. When she glanced back one last time, her eyes met Lucrezia's. Lucrezia stared at her with widened eyes.
*I'm done for! Completely done for!*
Despite the bitterness in her heart, Geneviève didn't stop. Luckily, there was a red-haired Braciere standing at the entrance to the villa. In social circles, Geneviève Malatesta was regarded as a little shallow but too harmless to hate, and somewhat frivolous. She exclaimed the next moment.
"Please, call Prince Cesare! Miss Adelaide is about to be fleeced!"
---
Gigi came to Cesare's room with a square leather bag and was silent for a moment at the sight before him.
The beautiful Stellone resort with ivory walls on orange carpets. Among its rooms, the most tastefully decorated suite belonging to the family head was now filled with acrid cigar smoke.
Gigi waved his hand through the thick haze as he entered.
"My lord?"
Cesare sat by the window. He looked somewhat listless. His eyes, drooping charmingly at the corners, flickered slowly, like those of a man under sedation. The ashtray on the windowsill was overflowing with burnt cigars.
*Is it about Miss Adele?*
She was the only thing that had been souring Cesare's mood lately. Gigi carefully placed his bag on the parlor table.
"My lord. Isn't it the social season?"
"It is."
Cesare replied in a pleasant, unmistakable voice. If you only heard the sound of his throat, no one would guess the expression on his face. That was the most frightening thing about Cesare. He could craft whatever appearance he wanted for others.
"Then why am I here?"
"Because I ordered it."
"That's precisely what I wanted to ask."
Gigi opened his bag and pulled out a stack of papers.
"That order should have meaning."
He placed the papers on the desk. On the front pages were photographs and drawings of buildings with fine appearances. Beside them were listed the lot sizes, number of rooms, and asking prices. All of it was Gigi's research.
*Find several high-end residences on Sepocity Street, well-secured, suitable for a grown woman to live alone.*
He tried to speak with emphasis, as if waiting for acknowledgment, but Cesare did not respond. He merely glanced at the papers and took another drag of his cigar.
"Well done."
Gigi looked at him with a blank expression.
"Won't you tell me what you're going to use them for?"
"I'll have to negotiate with her first."
"Negotiate, you say?"
It was while Gigi replied absently, glancing at the papers he had set down.
"Hm?"
A short sound of surprise escaped him.
"My lord. This..."
What caught Gigi's eye was a pale purple piece of paper in the corner of the desk. The great noble houses of Fornatier all used paper in the colors of their families. Purple was the color of Della Valle.
"Did something arrive from Della Valle?"
"Leave it alone."
"A courtship... hm?"
Gigi, who had reflexively read the paper, grabbed it involuntarily. His mouth slowly fell open.
"A courtship? From Della Valle? Already?"
"..."
"Well. Lord Ezra seems to have more nerve than I thought..."
Muttering softly, Gigi noticed that the edges of the courtship letter were crumpled. His master was neater than one might think, and he never let personal feelings interfere with official matters. Even when ridiculous proposals were raised, he preferred to tear apart the pride of the initiator rather than tear up the paper itself.
Without a word, Gigi straightened the paper and placed it back on the desk.
"No. This belongs here again..."
And without thinking, he retrieved another courtship letter that had been thrown in the trash and set it on the table as well.
Cesare remained silent. Stubborn as ever.
Gigi clicked his tongue inwardly. The courtship letters numbered three in total. They even bore the seal of Luca della Valle, the head of the family.
"You've already succeeded. Shouldn't we frame these and hang them on the wall?"
"What about Adele?"
Gigi almost sighed at the fact that this was all Cesare had to say.
"You mean the old galley, like a relic of ancient times, that we've been preparing since the moment we brought Miss Adelaide in?"
"..."
At that, Cesare's head, which had been turned toward the window, finally swiveled to face Gigi. Gigi caught a glimpse of Cesare's expressionless face and the blue sea of Ador stretching out through the window behind him. It was a sparkling, daunting sight.
Sometimes Cesare would display his arrogance and self-righteousness in this way.
*Don't be presumptuous.*
The executive secretary, who had an equally cold heart, replied in a matter-of-fact manner.
"As you ordered before, it is currently on standby at the shipyard in Porto Aperta."
"Good."
Cesare turned back and took another drag of his cigar. Gigi stared at him.
"Shall we scrap the ship?"
Silence returned. Gigi knew he was being somewhat blunt, but he continued.
"Or shall I send it to her?"
"..."
Presently, Cesare opened his lips slowly. His eyes, usually as clear as a flash of light, had taken on a particularly clouded hue.
"Soon..."
That was when it happened. A bell hung from the ceiling rang loudly. Gigi immediately looked out the window. A hawk with a red band was flying swiftly toward the villa.
"That's... This is Sir Aegir's bird."
Gigi immediately went out onto the balcony and extended his arm with a leather brace. He whistled sharply, fingers forming a circle, and the hawk swooped in and landed on his arm. He immediately opened the telegram tied to the hawk's leg and began to read.
"This is information from Geneviève Malatesta. Right now, the young lady is being cornered at Salon Genoble..."
Gigi, who had been reading the telegram in a businesslike manner, suddenly felt a piercing gaze and looked up. Before him was the room filled with cigar smoke. And there was Cesare, brow slightly furrowed. He seemed to be waiting for what came next. He didn't appear to realize what kind of expression he was wearing.
Gigi chuckled softly.
"What are you doing just sitting there?"
"What? Ah. That's... well."
Cesare's brow furrowed deeper. Aware of this, Gigi hesitated, unable to read the telegram further.
*I shouldn't interfere in his private life.*
He looked down at the telegram with mixed feelings.
*But if I leave things as they are, Miss Adele will definitely end up on that galley...*
This was because his master left no room for any element of uncertainty.
"..."
"Gigi Manfreddy. What does it say that makes you hesitate like that?"
"One moment. Just a moment."
Gigi refused to carry out the order immediately, and Cesare was ready to rise from the windowsill. His expression was serious. He seemed to have misunderstood the contents of the telegram.
"What's happened?"
"..."
Gigi's expression twisted.
*I really shouldn't interfere with his private life.*
But when he thought of Miss Adele, even Gigi felt conflicted. He, too, was from Kimora. There was no way he didn't know how hard she had tried. On the contrary, being from the same place, he understood better than anyone. She would have done everything in her power to survive.
Everyone would laugh if they heard it, but Gigi wanted Cesare to be as happy as possible, too. Cesare was a decent man, but he wasn't an easy one. Gigi had been watching him from the sidelines for so long that he now knew what his master truly wanted.