Chapter Title: Matters of the Heart
It was an unexpected question, but Adele answered calmly.
"That's what my brother wants."
"Yes. I thought so."
Luca della Valle let out a deep sigh and rummaged in his pocket. A pipe emerged. He looked at Adele.
"May I smoke?"
"As you wish."
It was hard to refuse given his gentle demeanor. She had grown accustomed to Cesare's cigars, so she thought it would be fine. However, when the round pipe was lit, the smoke was more pungent and bitter than expected. Adele cleared her throat discreetly. Luca, unaware, mumbled something somberly as he held his pipe.
"Yes... As soon as I arrived today, Ezra told me... Prince Cesare has stamped the courtship."
"What?"
Adele asked, her voice rising slightly in surprise. Luca blinked.
"Didn't you know?"
"No... I haven't heard the details."
"Here's the courtship letter. Ezra left it behind."
Luca stood up himself and handed Adele the courtship document from his drawer. There was nothing to examine closely. The wax seal, blue like the Milky Way, was stamped with a star—the symbol of Buonaparte.
"......"
"Did you come here to receive it?"
Luca muttered. His attitude was reluctant, but it sounded almost like pleading, perhaps because of his careworn expression. For a while, only the sound of Luca puffing on his pipe could be heard. Presently he spoke.
"Does Ezra have your heart?"
"What?"
Adele asked, surprised—she hadn't expected Luca to ask such a thing. Luca smiled at her expression.
"It's not an important consideration in a noble marriage. I know that. But I want my children to live comfortably and happily."
"...Is that so?"
"First, there's nothing to worry about. I'll lead Della Valle well. Lucrezia is a child who knows what she wants, so there's no concern there. Ezra is most like me. He's stubborn, but he's grown up well."
"......"
There was nothing to say. It was Adele who had tried to deceive his upright son through marriage. Luca smiled at her silence. It was the same smile she had often seen in Ezra.
"Whatever your past, you are now a lady of Buonaparte. There will be many guarantees for you. Ezra, on the other hand, is a legitimate son, but he is the second-born and has little to offer."
"I never cared about that."
"Thank you for saying so."
Luca said this and studied Adele for a moment. His clear mauve eyes revealed the concern of a parent rather than an individual.
"May I ask a favor of you?"
---
After her conversation with Luca, Adele sat in a rocking chair in the garden, having sent Eponi away when the maid asked what had happened. Her heart sank with the feeling that she was doing something unforgivable.
She hadn't wanted to sell her body, so she had joined hands with Cesare—but was this the right thing to do? Ezra wasn't even evil. He had even helped Adele at the Berissimus Club. But she couldn't disembark now...
As she continued wrestling with her complicated thoughts, she heard a voice beside her. She looked up to see Ezra smiling, one cheek slightly swollen.
"You're here. Father said you had spoken, so I came looking for you."
"I see."
Ezra looked puzzled.
"What happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your tone seems a little stiff."
*Adele's natural way of speaking must have slipped out without her noticing.* She smiled quickly.
"Nothing's happened. Lord Luca was very kind to me."
"I'm glad."
Ezra sat down in the rocking chair beside her. Adele remained silent, sensing he had something to say. The gardens of Della Valle were more tranquil than the Stellone Resort—perfect for quiet contemplation. Looking at the lily of the valley and daffodils in bloom, Ezra spoke.
"Actually, we're going to have a ball soon..."
His neck flushed red.
"I'd love for you to dance with me. If you would... the mazurka."
It had taken him a long time to confess, but once he spoke, Ezra immediately met Adele's eyes. Adele blinked in slight embarrassment.
*"The most popular dance is the waltz, and the one you dance with a lover or a heart-to-heart partner is the mazurka."*
Lady Flavia's words flashed through her mind. Even though she'd had other governesses after her, it was always Lady Flavia who came to mind at moments like this. Perhaps it was because she had been so harshly instructive.
The next thing that came to mind was Luca della Valle's voice.
*"Does Ezra have your heart?"*
"......"
She couldn't answer. She could tell her complexion had paled. There was no way Ezra couldn't see it. The mauve eyes that had sparkled with anticipation darkened slightly.
"Ha ha."
Ezra smiled dryly, as if trying to defuse the situation, and rubbed the back of his head. He looked meaninglessly at the nearby foxglove colony.
"Prince Cesare told me. He doesn't think you and I are suited. That we can't mix—like oil and water."
"...Is that so?"
"Then he laughed at me and stamped the document. 'If you can, try it,' he said. He told me he'd never seen a woman in his life who was so 'expensive.'"
She had heard it before, so it wasn't too shocking. Perhaps it was because the narrator, Ezra, was speaking through clenched teeth.
"Did you raise your fist first?"
"I couldn't stand by idly. Violence isn't good, but..."
Ezra scratched his cheek as he spoke. Then he squinted as if he'd touched the injured area. It was sad, but for some reason, it didn't seem like Ezra would have won. Adele stared at him with confusion.
*I don't care for Ezra in that way, but...*
She reached out tentatively. Her fingertips touched Ezra's cheek, and the man stiffened in surprise.
"Thank you for being angry on my behalf."
"......"
Ezra's eyes widened. Adele's fingers awkwardly smoothed his face before returning to her lap.
"This marriage was arranged by my brother. My will doesn't matter."
"Oh..."
Ezra's lips were about to form a bitter expression when Adele continued.
"But whatever the cause, it doesn't change the fact that we're going to be husband and wife. So, according to the principle of good faith, I will try to be a good wife."
His beautiful mauve eyes grew larger, and simple joy bloomed within them. Ezra smiled sweetly.
"I will be a good husband."
---
Jude Rossi stood at a distance and observed Cesare. A mountain of cigars had piled up in the ashtray.
"Are you trying to die? Are you putting my name in your will?"
"No."
Cesare replied, looking at his papers. Jude regarded the prickly answer sadly and glanced back at Gigi, who stood nearby.
"What's wrong with the master?"
"Who knows?"
The upward lilt suggested sarcasm. Jude turned to Cesare.
"Are you fighting with your assistant secretary?"
"Why are you here?"
"I've heard some interesting news."
Jude sat down on a nearby couch without being invited. Suddenly, he noticed a pair of green mules neatly placed near the sofa's legs. Jude tilted his head.
"So, are you going to attend?"
"Attend what?"
"The Della Valle ball. You said you gave permission for the marriage. Ezra apparently loves balls."
Cesare looked up for the first time since Jude's arrival. The frown on his brow showed his confusion.
"...Didn't you receive an invitation?"
"......"
Cesare looked back at Gigi. Gigi shook his head slightly, his face too stiff to be an act. Jude clutched his stomach and began to laugh.
"Ha! Hahaha! They really didn't invite you! Ezra is amazing!"
It wasn't easy to live in Fornatier and not invite Buonaparte.
"Hey. What are you going to do about this? What's your plan?"
"Why would I do anything?"
"Aren't you worried? You've always snatched ladies from balls and taken them to hotels. There's no reason why Ezra can't."
Cesare didn't answer, but Jude noticed his eyes remained fixed on the same spot on the papers. But Cesare spoke casually.
"I feel sorry for Ezra, who would pity a shoeshine girl."
Jude frowned slightly, still smiling. Cesare had a sharp tongue, but it was usually reserved for those who provoked him. He had never spoken such uncomfortable words—like fishing for crucian carp in a pond.
*He's too stubborn after all.*
Jude sighed and reached into his coat.
"Hmm. Is that so? Then you don't need this, do you?"
A pale lavender envelope slipped from his arm. Jude waved it and grinned.