Epony spoke with a slightly worried expression, then quickly tidied up the comb and hair oil set before leaving the room.
Just before the door closed, Madame Flavia gave Adele a strange look.
That gaze, which seemed to be a mix of guilt and fear, was quickly hidden behind the oak door.
Left alone, Adele exited the toilet room and sat on the sofa in the reception room.
She thought about reading a book, but whether due to the magic Epony had whispered or something else, her heart was fluttering, and she couldn’t focus on the words. It might have been because of the elegant music from the distant ball.
‘…Maybe I’ll just sleep.’
It was just as Adele gave up on reading and stood up.
Knock knock knock.
She froze in place at the sound of someone knocking on the door.
“……”
Knock knock knock.
It was strange.
Although it was just a knock, Adele was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense sense of unease. It was different from Madame Flavia’s knock.
Knock knock knock.
Don’t open it.
A small whisper in her heart matched the third knock.
After hesitating for a moment, Adele wrapped herself in the cashmere shawl that Epony had folded in the corner and tiptoed towards the door.
Then, finding her own behavior amusing, she chuckled.
Surely they wouldn’t try anything in the inner palace?
“Just a moment.”
Adele opened the door immediately.
Outside was a small girl wearing a white headscarf typical of maids.
“What’s the matter?”
Adele asked with relief, having been inwardly tense.
“Miss. The master is calling for you.”
The short maid replied in a rough voice.
“My brother?”
“Yes. It seems you need to come for a moment. It’s urgent.”
At those words, Adele examined the maid.
Her face wasn’t visible due to the loose headscarf and lowered head. The uniform was certainly that of the Bounaparte family’s maids, though it seemed a bit large.
Adele hesitated for a moment.
‘But if Cesare really called…’
Finally, Adele nodded.
“Alright. I’ll go right away.”
*** *** *** *** ***
The maid headed towards the outer palace. Perhaps because all the staff were concentrated in the outer palace ballroom, the peripheral corridors were surprisingly empty.
Adele watched the maid walking ahead, wrapping her shawl tighter against the cold night air.
‘What an unusual maid.’
Adele hadn’t seen many of Bounaparte’s maids.
From the few examples she had, if there was a commonality, it was that they were extremely unobtrusive.
Their gait was neat, their footsteps silent, and their voices as small as a string of tiny beans. Adele could only perceive their presence by the fluttering white apron ribbons and black skirt hems beyond the corridor.
The maid before her was different. Her gait was disorderly from the start. With each step, her heels clattered loudly on the floor. She would look around or hesitate as if lost.
It was surprising that Bounaparte, known for being particular about hiring, would employ such a person as a maid.
“Where are we going?”
“He’s on the rooftop.”
I really don’t want to go…
But even thinking this, Adele couldn’t return to her room.
Cesare wasn’t one to explain things to others in detail. Just look at his assistant, Gigi Manfredi.
To avoid being trampled, one had to act like him. Even if slightly puzzled, remain silent and follow.
‘Perhaps to object to that man, one would need to present an equally good alternative or be persuasive. He seemed to have a rational personality…’
While thinking, Adele and the maid arrived at the third floor of the mansion. Climbing the spiral staircase, Adele soon emerged onto the mansion’s external rooftop.
The view opened up, and stars poured down brilliantly. The night wind blew fiercely from all directions.
Adele gathered her wildly flying hair in her hand and looked around.
There was no one in sight.
“Where is my brother?”
“He’s in the bell tower.”
The maid said, pointing to the bell tower rising from the third-floor rooftop.
Lorenzo’s Bell Tower. The symbolic building of Fornatier.
While Adele was looking up at the top of the bell tower, the maid’s steps quickened. She instantly disappeared around the corner of the bell tower near the railing.
“Wait a moment.”
It was just as the confused Adele quickened her pace and reached where the maid had disappeared.
Tap.
With a disorderly footstep and presence behind her back.
“I’m sorry!”
In an instant, Adele’s back was pushed over the third-floor railing.
*** *** *** *** ***
It was just past 11 o’clock. It was also the time when the atmosphere of the night party, which usually lasted until 3 or 4 in the morning, was at its peak.
Cesare, who had been greeting guests since early evening, finally came out alone to the terrace.
Through the closed glass doors, nobles with disappointed faces could be seen, but they soon dispersed. It was courteous not to disturb when the host went to the terrace, as it meant he wanted a moment of rest.
“……”
Cesare sat in a rattan chair with a backrest shaped like a duke’s feather and let out a quiet sigh.
He was about to run his fingers through his hair but stopped, remembering Oliver, the valet who had taken extra care with his hair today.
Instead, he took out a cigar case from his breast pocket. He placed a thick cigar between his fingers, lit it, and instantly the terrace was filled with the scent of almonds.
I might survive.
Cesare tilted his head back, blowing out smoke with his long legs stretched out carelessly.
Suddenly, he noticed something carved in a corner of the stone terrace ceiling. Upon closer inspection, it was initials carved with a knife.
K. e R.
Katarina. And Rowan.
Cesare let out a wry smile. They were peculiar, but to go this far.
He exhaled a long stream of smoke while staring at the old knife marks.
Rowan Bounaparte and Katarina Schroder.
They truly had a love for the ages. A noble love that didn’t fade with time.
Cesare remembered. On nights when parties were held at Bounaparte, the two would dance more tenderly than anyone else at the ball.
With the young Cesare seated on an ornate chair in the ballroom, a cookie placed in his hand.
For hours on end, just the two of them. In their own world that no one could intrude upon.
The emotion he felt then was.
“……”
Cesare tilted his head back again, exhaling smoke. The old memory flew away with the smoke.
He ended up running his fingers through his hair, carefully styled with wax.
I should have Gigi bring some alcohol.
Just as Cesare moved his hand towards the bell on the side table.
Knock knock!
A cheerful knock was heard, and before permission could be given, the door swung open.
“Hey, Cesare! The ladies are dying to see you, what are you doing here?”
It was Guido Rossi. His old friend approached with lively footsteps and placed a long-stemmed glass on the side table.
Cesare glared at the glass with the cigar in his mouth.
“This isn’t whiskey.”
“Madame Eva said to stop giving you whiskey.”
Cesare smiled reluctantly but picked up the glass anyway.
Guido sat down next to him, grinning.
“You really are weak against Madame Eva. Well, not just her.”
“Shut up.”
“Where’s Madame Eva?”
Cesare put the cigar back in his mouth.
“She’s not feeling well.”
“That’s a shame. I brought a gift for her.”
“Give it to Ernst.”
Cesare answered indifferently and took a sip. As the alcohol went down his throat, his tense nerves gradually relaxed.
“Your fiancée?”
Guido smiled faintly.
“She told me to have a good time at tonight’s party. By the way, did you just drink alone?”
“So what?”
“You don’t know your limits!”
Guido grumbled but also took a drink. A pleased exclamation was heard.
“You’ve procured good alcohol again, haven’t you?”
“It’s from the envoy from Orquenina. They’re customers, aren’t they?”
“Having a wealthy, prestigious family friend is truly a wonderful thing.”
“You’re from a prestigious family too.”
“Even if the Rossi family is prestigious, it can’t compare to Bounaparte!”
Guido chuckled, already seeming drunk.
“By the way, how is the young lady who recently joined that prestigious family doing?”
Cesare, with a cigar in his mouth, frowned.
“Guido, that topic…”
It was then that Cesare, for the first time, took a good look at Guido and was momentarily speechless.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
“That’s what I want to ask!”
Guido, draped in a fluttering women’s shawl, grinned.
Though it looked expensive, it was a bizarre sight for a grown man to be wearing something so flowy.
“Did you come to my party dressed like that? Are you out of your mind?”
“I didn’t wear it here! I was passing by, and this flew down from the sky! I thought maybe an angel was descending! You know? They usually start with ‘Fear not’…”
“Why would you pick that up? Are you poor?”
“Your way of speaking hasn’t changed. But look. It’s the finest cashmere from Rajput. It must have been dropped by a young lady from a noble family.”
Guido said, holding out the shawl as if inviting Cesare to take a look.
“Get rid of it.”
Cesare frowned and turned his head the other way.
He was quite fed up with having to return lost items to ladies who seemed to drop handkerchiefs only in front of him.
“But look! With an item like this, it must surely belong to a family with a priory, right?”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Once you get rid of Lady Lucrezia, you can entrust your life to a lady without worry, can’t you? Since you found such a shawl, maybe it’s fate!”
Cesare frowned and smiled.
“Do you think I’m not getting married because I’m worried about a woman who would pull Lucrezia’s hair?”
“That’s not it, but.”
“Enough, just get rid of…”
Suddenly, Cesare, who had been glancing at the shawl, paused.
“Wait a moment.”
“Hmm? Are you interested?”
Without a word, Cesare took the shawl from Guido. The familiar ivory color caught his eye. He quietly examined the corner.
K. B.
“Ha.”
Upon seeing the embroidery in blue thread in the corner, Cesare let out a short sigh.
Without a doubt, it was his mother Katarina Bounaparte’s item.
Adele Vivi must be using it now.
But it fell from the sky?
“……”
“Cesare?”
“Unbelievable, but…”
“What do you mean?”
Cesare inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke. He recalled the shoeshine girl who had no charm in her expression.
Told to get an education, he crushed her foot. Went for a walk and seduced men. Went for another walk and got marked by Lucrezia.
So what’s next this time?
Cesare stood up with a sigh.
“Where did you pick this up?”
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