Chapter 38 - The Melancholy of Count Nord Ludovico (Part 2)
"You may leave once you've poured it. I want to enjoy a little chat with my husband."
Beatrice said to the maid who entered the parlor with a set of tea things and a plate of torte on a wagon.
As the maid poured hot water into the pot, a refreshing fragrance wafted up. A fresh, clean, flower-like scent spread throughout the entire room.
"Is it Bramcoeur?"
To Ludovico, who smelled the fragrance and named the tea leaf's origin, Beatrice nodded with a smile.
"As expected of you, sir."
Tea leaves produced in a village deep in the misty mountains are characterized by a refreshing scent reminiscent of the highland breeze and a clean taste. Enjoying it with baked sweets was one of Ludovico's favorite leaves.
The maid, having poured the tea into the cups, bowed and withdrew.
Beatrice picked up the plate of torte that had been brought, placed it in front of Ludovico saying "Here you go," and added a fork. Originally, such a thing—acting like a server—was not something a woman in Beatrice's position would do. However, for over twenty years, Beatrice had always been like this. While she maintained a conventional attitude toward others, her attitude toward Ludovico had remained unchanged since before their marriage, no, even before their engagement.
The servants all understood that this was simply how things were.
"I had these bought from a popular shop. They say they are exquisite, so I wanted you to have some too, sir."
"Yes, thank you."
Ludovico was not one who could refuse when Beatrice acted like that. He picked up the fork, cut a small piece of the torte, and carried it to his mouth. The texture of the dough that crumbled crisply in his mouth, the aroma of butter and hazelnut, and the acidity of the redcurrants were an exquisite combination.
"Ah, this is good. This is wonderful, Beatrice."
Not only the taste of the torte, but the pairing with the tea was also impeccable. For Ludovico, who secretly liked this kind of sweet, it could truly be called exquisite.
"I am glad it was to your taste."
Beatrice's expression as she smiled bashfully had not changed since before their engagement.
In the more than twenty years since they met, both Ludovico and Beatrice had aged by that much. In contrast to his wife, whose beauty and figure had almost no change, he felt he had become somewhat fat and had grown old. However, his heart, which leaped every time he saw his wife's smile, remained unchanged.
"What are you worrying about?"
Ludovico, who had been immersed in sentimentality, was pulled back to reality by that single sentence from his wife.
He almost choked on the sudden gap, but managed to swallow his tea and steady his breathing just in time.
"—You've heard, haven't you? It's about Claudia."
"Oh," Beatrice responded.
"If it's about Claudia, it's not a story you should be worrying about."
"If it were just about Claudia. —Rather, it might be about that Marquess's daughter and the Marquess's house."
"It is something His Highness the Crown Prince decided."
At his wife's words, Ludovico's expression clouded.
"You say that, but, Beatrice."
Annulment of engagement and exile. Certainly, those were things the Crown Prince decided.
However, at least half of the cause lay with Claudia—with their daughter. It was not a story that could be settled by simply saying it was all decided by His Highness the Crown Prince and had nothing to do with them.
That was precisely why Ludovico was agonizing over how he should apologize to Marquess Mares, the father of the Crown Prince's former fiancée.
"Even if becoming His Highness's partner is, well, fine. When I think about that young lady's father, I cannot remain so calm at heart."
"Is it not because you, sir, made sure she studied hard that she was able to become close to His Highness and catch his eye? Claudia—that child—is trying to support His Highness in her own way."
Ludovico almost retorted that he knew that, but he held his tongue.
Claudia's own way. That might be so. But even so, Ludovico thought.
"—It's Marquess Mares, you know? He is a man to whom I also owe several debts. To do this to him..."
"I am aware. But His Highness decided, and that child decided to support that Highness. To put it simply, that is all there is to it, isn't it? Why do you worry about such a thing?"
Ludovico could not understand his wife, who could dismiss this grave matter as "such a thing."
His daughter would support the next king of this country in her own way. That was fine. Rather, it was joyful.
But on the other hand, there was someone who had lost their position. A talented lady without equal. The daughter of Marquess Mares, a pillar of the kingdom.
"Did you... know?"
His tone became accusatory despite himself.
"Yes. Not everything, but rumors do reach me."
Ludovico was at a loss for words toward Beatrice, who responded with a smile.
"—Did you not think... to stop her, Beatrice?"
He made an effort and somehow managed to push out only those words.
"Oh my."
His wife's smile widened, and she tilted her head.
"I did not think I would hear such words from your mouth, sir."
"What are you—"
The words he intended to continue with did not come out of his mouth.
Beatrice reached out, and with her white, slender fingers, she touched Ludovico's lips.
She then carried a crumb of torte she had picked off to her own mouth and laughed, "Fufu."
"Wh..."
"There was some dirt around your mouth, you see?"
Before he could retort that that wasn't what they were talking about, Ludovico took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth.
"That kind of—"
"Sir."
Still with a joyful smile, Beatrice continued.
"If those around me had stopped me, and if I had followed them..."
Ludovico's words stopped again.
"I would never have been able to be with you, sir."
That was certainly a fact.
The eldest son of a Count's house that had almost let the family estate decline after the extravagance of two generations, the one before the last and the last. He was not particularly good-looking, nor was he superior in bravery, nor was he skilled in conversation. He just worked desperately, thinking only of preventing the aftermath of the lord's mismanagement from falling upon the fief's people. That was Ludovico when he was young—when he met Beatrice.
What part of him she had fallen for, Beatrice, whom he met by chance, had brushed aside the opposition of those around her, persuaded her own family, and finally pushed through Ludovico himself to become engaged to him.
Moreover, taking one of the businesses her family—a certain Viscount's house—held as a dowry, Beatrice had married into the Foscar family.
Since then, the relationship between the head of the Foscar family and his wife had never cooled. Even if they occasionally held different opinions, they would return to being a harmonious couple as before, without either side being the first to start. They had maintained such a relationship for over twenty years since they met.
"—That... is true."
Spilling a sigh, Ludovico nodded.
Once, Ludovico had asked Beatrice why she chose him.
"You were desperate for the sake of what you had to do. I wanted to support such a person."(T/N: Beatrice uses the formal 'anata' for 'you')
Ludovico could not completely understand Beatrice's feelings. However, Ludovico wanted to cherish Beatrice, who supported him and tried to support him in that way. And also their beautiful daughter born between them, Claudia.
—So the partner Claudia decided to support was His Highness.
If that was the case, he could not stop Claudia. Just like her appearance, Claudia probably inherited the temperament of his beautiful wife—Beatrice.
His timid self would surely regret it many times from now on. Why couldn't he stop Claudia then, or wasn't there something more he could have done?
—Even so.
No matter what happened, the people he should cherish were decided.
His daughter, his wife, and the Crown Prince who became his daughter's fiancé. And perhaps the grandchildren who might be born beyond that.
The future where he might become an enemy to Marquess Mares and his daughter was a wall far too large for him. To the point that just thinking about it made him melancholy.
The melancholy mood would not clear. It surely would not clear in the future either. However, it seemed he would be able to maintain at least the willpower to somehow face it.
[Author's Note]
It turned out the beautiful wife was the one who pushed for the marriage.
I just found out for the first time too. Good grief.
Pitiable middle-aged man, how enviable!
【Announcement】
The book version (Volume 1) of this work "The Exile of the Marquess's Daughter Ariarein" was published by Earth Star Luna on March 3rd. There is a special page on the label's official website, so please take a look.
The cover, frontispiece, a preview (up to the end of Chapter 1), character introductions, illustrations, maps, etc., are all public.
Also, there are first-edition limited short stories, so I hope you will pick it up!
https://www.es-luna.jp/bookdetail/53aria_luna.php