Chapter 28: Don’t Go Back, Please?

As a duchess, Matilda’s presence was impossible to ignore. Draped in a wolfskin cloak, her dark red gown stood out vividly against the snow, utterly unlike the gray-clad common folk around her.

Boniface, having spotted Matilda, hurriedly changed his expression and approached her, plastering a broad smile across his face as he tried to appear as genial as possible. “Your Grace,” he said, his tone dripping with flattery.

But Matilda merely cast him a fleeting glance before continuing in the direction of Leo, as if Boniface did not exist at all. Despite being so coldly brushed aside, Boniface’s face betrayed no emotion. He simply trailed after her like a shadow.

“Your Grace, your reputation precedes you. I have long wished for the honor of meeting you, and never expected we would cross paths here…” he prattled on, but Matilda paid him no mind. The slight furrow of her brow was all it took for Alberto to understand her wishes; he stepped forward, blocking Boniface’s path with his body.

Boniface, who had been in the midst of a monologue, was instantly incensed. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his tone suddenly low and threatening.

“I act on the duchess’s orders. Do not disturb her,” Alberto replied coolly. He was no soft-hearted Marco.

As Boniface’s agitation grew, Alberto gave him a powerful shove, sending him sprawling to the ground. Soft and pampered as he was, Boniface was completely unprepared and tumbled clumsily, the world seeming to spin and tip around him.

What was happening? Accustomed to unchecked arrogance within the city of Rome, he was momentarily stunned. Was there truly no one here who cared about his status?

Sitting dazed in the snow, Boniface looked toward Matilda, only to find her now beside Leo, conversing with laughter and a gentle, sweet smile on her face.

Impossible, Boniface thought. That good-for-nothing Leo, how could he have won the favor of a ruler?

Yet reality crushed his pride, grinding it into the dirt. The duchess, who would not so much as glance his way, was now engaged in cheerful conversation with Leo—and it was Matilda herself who seemed to be taking the initiative, while Leo appeared rather indifferent.

“You’ll pay for this. I’ll settle this score,” Boniface muttered, rising from the snow, brushing off the flakes from his clothes, and leaving the riverbank without a backward glance. He knew that as soon as they returned to Rome, Leo would be at his mercy.

But Leo paid Boniface no heed, his attention fixed on the soldiers boiling tree bark, while he chatted with Matilda.

“Sir Leo, how did you come by this technique?” Matilda asked, her hands gracefully folded before her, the very image of a noblewoman. Her youthful, melodious voice made her the ideal of all noble dreams.

Leo was unmoved. He fished a small book from his pocket. “It’s from Andalusia,” he replied.

Matilda, curious, took the book from him and leafed through its contents with care. As she read, Leo leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Your Grace, would you like to hear a story about paper?”

A story about paper? Matilda paused, momentarily oblivious to the ticklish sensation of his breath near her ear, and asked, “What story about paper?”

“Do you know where paper comes from? From Seres in the East—what the Persians call the Land of the Peach Blossom Stones. It’s said that after using the privy, the people of Seres don’t wash with water, but instead use paper.”

“They use paper?” Matilda’s first reaction was disbelief.

To her, “paper” meant costly parchment. Such an expensive item—used for that?

Seeing her confusion, Leo explained, “It’s because they use this kind of paper that they can afford to do so.”

So that was it. At this moment, Matilda found paper all the more important. Not only could it be used for writing, but it had practical, everyday uses as well—how wonderful.

Suddenly, a suspicion crossed her mind, and she turned to Leo with a hint of reproach on her face. “Sir Leo, did you say this on purpose?”

“On purpose?” Leo was genuinely taken aback by her question.

Matilda didn’t answer directly but studied his face as if searching for signs that he was teasing her. But after a while, finding nothing amiss, she gave up with a huff and watched Leo supervise the soldiers at work.

After the bark had been boiled for some time, Leo instructed the soldiers to remove it from the pot and begin pounding it, to separate out the cellulose fibers. Such heavy labor was, of course, left to the burliest soldiers—better to keep them occupied than idle.

Once Leo had finished giving instructions, he returned to Matilda’s side. She looked as though she had been waiting for him.

“Your Grace, is there something you wish to discuss?” Leo asked directly. “You usually stay indoors where it’s warm—why be outside for so long today?”

“I wanted to ask you something, Sir Leo,” Matilda replied, her voice tinged with concern. For a moment, she was no longer the ruler of Tuscany, but once again the lonely, helpless girl she had been in the castle of Canossa.

Together, she led Leo into the nearby woods.

“What is it?” he asked.

“That envoy—he’s from Rome, isn’t he?” Matilda said.

At her words, Leo heaved a long sigh. “Yes, he’s from Rome…”

But this time, before he could finish, Matilda interrupted, speaking quickly. “Sir Leo, I know you were sent by the Roman Curia. But could you not return to Rome just yet? Tuscany still needs you. I will see that you have a place in the monastery here. I’ll do my best to negotiate with the Pope, to find a solution we can both accept.”

Hearing her words, Leo was filled with conflicting emotions. He knew that for Matilda, change had begun with his arrival. Before Leo came to Tuscany, Matilda had been nothing more than a voiceless puppet. Now, she had broken free of her cage. Yet, she still relied on Leo, if only a little, and did not want him to leave for Rome.

Leo had intended to offer a vague answer, but when he met Matilda’s gaze, he found he could not bring himself to do so. In that silent moment, Matilda mistook his hesitation for wavering.

She stopped, and Leo realized that they had wandered into a secluded valley, hidden from the construction of the monastery by the winding hills. Matilda, ever observant, clearly knew this—and it seemed almost as if she had planned it.

“As for whether I’ll leave or not… I still need to consider it,” Leo said, his thoughts turning to the matter of the system. The system had given him this task, after all, and there were rewards for completing it. Until now, Leo had never considered defying the system’s quests.

But as he hesitated, he suddenly felt a warm, gentle touch in his palm. Matilda had taken his hand, her eyes meeting his with intense sincerity.

“Sir Leo, promise me—don’t go back to Rome. Please?”