Chapter Title: Storming the Salon
I had no special intention of sacrificing myself, nor any reason to put in extraordinary effort—but I hoped everyone would come through unscathed. It was the most harmonious blueprint Gigi Manfredi could draw.
Therefore... Cesare had to be shaken up a little more. I couldn't have let him try to resolve things with the luxury houses on Sepocity Street.
_It's ruined. I'm already thinking of intervening._
Gigi crumpled up the telegram, hoping Cesare hadn't been so capable as to get himself killed.
"Who stripped her?"
---
"You're in trouble!"
"Who's in trouble?" Cesare retorted in a cheerful, sharp voice, shoving aside the footman who had blocked his path.
"This is Genobl's villa! No matter how much influence Priorisi has—!"
"Aegir." Before he could even finish calling the name, Aegir leapt from the side and overpowered the footman.
"Don't kill him." Cesare strode across the hall, leaving them behind.
He had been to Genobl's villa before. If it was a salon, it would be in the parlor. Perhaps they had dragged her to a private room, but... if things had gone that far, the situation was already irreversible.
_Let's just hope Palmina isn't that stupid._
The Templars had already surrounded the Genobl villa. One signal and they would rush in. If anything had happened to Adelaide Buonaparte's personal safety, it would be the same outcome.
"......"
Cesare paused for a moment, recalling that reluctant sight. He remembered Adele at the ceremony.
She was a woman who didn't rebel simply because she was told to behave like a lady. At a salon she attended bearing the Buonaparte name, she wouldn't have been able to resist whoever confronted her. Apparently, she still felt a gap between being a Buonaparte and acting like a proper lady.
An inexplicable feeling of frustration rose to the base of his throat. Fortunately, he spotted the parlor door before he could punch anyone nearby.
"Open it."
Cesare gave the command in an icy voice, and before anyone could comply, he kicked the parlor door open.
"Ah!"
"Oh...."
"What is this... Prince Cesare?"
He could see the startled ladies. Cesare quickly scanned his surroundings. It was the scene of an ordinary salon. He frowned and made his way to the center of the parlor.
The room, decorated with scarlet and purple hydrangeas, was truly ostentatious in style. In the sunniest spot stood a round table. And there sat the furious old matron and his sister.
"......"
"Prince Cesare! What kind of disrespect is this!"
Cesare ignored the matron's clamor and examined Adele from head to toe. She wore a winter Leicester wool coat. No torn marks. No signs of struggle. No indication of distress whatsoever. Her expression was also her usual self.
_Why are you here?_
"......"
Cesare involuntarily breathed a faint sigh of relief, then fell silent when he realized what he had done. He looked around once more. It was still a picturesque salon scene where no one was undressed or disheveled.
Now... what if that was actually the situation?
He took out a cigar without saying a word, drawing everyone's attention. In his mind, he remembered Gigi giggling as he saw him off: "I'm not quite recovered yet, so I'll be staying at the resort!"
_How do I kill him in a way that will be remembered favorably..._
He refined his anger and let it flow out with a sigh; the smoke from his cigar rose lazily. Standing alone in the middle of the silent parlor, he let out a faint laugh.
_Cesare Buonaparte. You're mad._
Of course she wasn't actually undressed. Gigi had only said one thing: "I took it off." Nothing more. Remembering the reporting ceremony at the Galeotto Club and knowing that the level of harassment at Salon Genobl was quite severe, he was the one who had assumed something terrible had happened. He was the one who had mobilized the Templars without verifying the facts.
He almost laughed at his own patheticness, but when he saw Adele for the first time in four days, the impulse faded.
The situation was absurd, and he was so ridiculous that he burst out laughing despite his agitation. At that moment, he heard a voice from the side.
"Ce-Cesare... It seems like it's been a long time since I've seen you... How are you?"
He turned around. It was Lucrezia. Cesare looked down at her without stopping his restless movements. Della Valle's daughter seemed quite taken with Prince Cesare, who appeared somewhat distracted.
Her flushed cheeks were in stark contrast to Adele's expressionless face. If he had fallen for this woman, life would have been easier. If he had wanted to undress her, she would have undressed; if she had tempted him, he would have given in; and he wouldn't have done something as pathetic as falling for Ezra.
"Ha!" Cesare suddenly remembered the thought and laughed again.
"So what kind of game is this?"
Lucrezia, who had been laughing along with him, excitedly explained the situation.
"Oh, Miss Adelaide bet Buonaparte's pension!"
Aside from her stuttering and eager eyes, it was one of the most coherent explanations he had heard from anyone in the Della Valle family. Cesare belatedly remembered the cards Adele had sent him over the past four days.
_I have a question about Salon Genobl that I will be attending._
_1. Could you lend me the latest Galleon that you mentioned at the last banquet?_ _2. May I borrow Buonaparte's name for a moment?_ _3-1. Tell me how much pension is allocated to the Lady of Buonaparte._ _3-2. Please let me know if I can pretend to own the pension for our game._
He hadn't been in the mood to face her, so he had scrawled out a rough answer and sent it through Holt's side. She was a sober and knowledgeable woman, so he hadn't anticipated any particular problems.
And this was how it had turned out.
Cesare laughed again.
"Everyone's mad."
"But Miss Adelaide is an adult. She can take responsibility for her actions."
Lucrezia's mauve eyes sparkled with anticipation. She looked as though she wanted to throw out the cheeky upstart.
Cesare grinned and leaned close to Lucrezia's ear. "I'll take responsibility."
"......"
He ignored her stiffened expression and made his way to the table where Palmina was sitting.
The old matron—the devil's grandmother, the old woman, and the first person who had set this whole affair in motion alongside Gigi—had her face contorted with rage. She had heard the news of the Knights surrounding the villa, and her fury was palpable.
"You're finally showing yourself. What on earth is the meaning of this?"
Cesare wheezed with laughter, his eyes curved and dimples showing.
"I apologize. I was so concerned for my sister that I acted rashly."
"Is this supposed to end with a mere apology?"
"The Templars? I was just giving them a walk."
Palmina's face turned crimson.
"Is this how Buonaparte conducts itself?"
"Isn't it a matter for both sides? A state-of-the-art galleon against a game of hold'em. It's ridiculous."
Palmina flinched but then spoke firmly.
"Miss Adelaide said she had authority over her pension. I've already made arrangements, so I'm not about to back down..."
"Rest assured, I have no intention of making you back down. I simply find it amusing."
"What?"
Cesare chuckled.
"I didn't expect to show a lady who has just entered the Fornatier such a splendid glimpse of high society. This isn't dignified—it's just chasing money. Isn't that ridiculous?"
He didn't know what Adele had been doing these past four days. He hadn't even received reports from Eponi or Aegir. But when he had refused to visit, she had sent him cards.
_What are the customs of high society? What is life like there? What level of education is expected? Why were certain cultures created, and how should one behave as a Buonaparte? What books should I consult, and what opinions are considered mainstream? What are the most pressing political, economic, and social issues? What newspapers does the aristocracy prefer?_
She had been asking him about such things, saying she would try her hand at the topics she knew nothing about. It was clear to her that nobles were dignified people who discussed important matters among themselves.
But she had come so thoroughly prepared, and all they were doing was gambling away the ladies' pensions.
Cesare would have bet six ships that no one at Salon Genobl had asked her about anything she had studied.
"Shame on you, Madame Genobl."
Cesare frowned and laughed. It was pure contempt.
Palmina Genobl didn't answer, her lips twitching as though she recognized her own fault. Cesare looked down at her indifferently.
_I don't care if you're a pawn, but you should know your place._
He then turned his attention to Adele. She looked at him with strange eyes, then averted her gaze slightly when their eyes met.
Cesare took a bite of his cigar. He had to get this one out of here first.
"But it's true that I was careless, so I won't make a scene—but I will play a few rounds. I trust that won't be a problem."