Chapter 54: Oranges and Roses

The silence in the banquet hall was deafening. Everyone paused what they were doing to look at Leo. Even Ricardo, who followed Leo closely, was seeing this kind of scene for the first time and shrank back in fear.

The nobles of Tuscany both respected and feared Leo. As for the Lorraine nobles, whenever they saw him, it was as though they’d come face-to-face with the Grim Reaper himself.

Especially those nobles who had narrowly escaped the pyre—they immediately withdrew to the side upon seeing Leo.

“What’s the matter? Am I not allowed to come?” Leo surveyed the room. “Keep playing, keep dancing,” he said, gesturing to the musicians. The musicians responded instantly, filling the hall with lively music once again.

Leo, amidst the melody, strode over and sat next to Matilda.

“Where is Anselmo?” Upon sitting down, Leo glanced around and questioned Ricardo beside him.

Ricardo shook his head. “He probably didn’t want to come.”

Didn’t want to come.

Leo understood. Most likely, Anselmo felt disgraced and so chose not to appear. Perhaps that was for the best—at least there wouldn’t be any troublesome characters at the banquet tonight. With this thought, Leo picked up his knife and began tackling the steak before him.

“Leo, a toast to you.” The bearded Geoffrey approached, raising a glass of wine toward Leo.

Custom dictated that Leo should return the gesture out of respect. But would Leo abide by such conventions?

“Thank you.” His hands never stopped moving as he uttered the words, prompting Geoffrey to bristle, a hint of anger at Leo’s disregard for etiquette.

“I have some words I'd like to discuss with you.” Geoffrey, after his first attempt failed, tried another approach, trying to draw closer to Leo.

But Leo paid him no heed, and instead looked to Ricardo.

“Ricardo, write a letter for me and send it to the Correzzola Abbey. Let them know that the Duke and Duchess of Lorraine from the north may reside there for a while. Ask everyone to help keep watch. Above all, make sure nothing jeopardizes the Duke’s safety.”

“You damned—” Geoffrey started to curse, but Matilda intervened, stepping up to Ricardo and inspecting the paper in his hand.

“Add this: it’s the command of Matilda, Duchess of Tuscany,” Matilda said coldly.

Her words were a death sentence for Geoffrey’s political career.

“By the way, Leo,” Matilda suddenly adopted a lighter tone, as if shedding her usual air of authority.

“What is it?” Leo continued to focus on his dinner.

“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Hearing Matilda’s voice, Leo sensed she wasn’t joking. He was curious—what matter was so important that Matilda would need to speak to him alone? He had only just arrived at the banquet, and already he was being pulled aside; it was odd.

He glanced around. Giovanni, Alberto, Enrico—all were mingling in their own circles. These nobles and knights were probably discussing their future plans.

After a moment’s thought, Leo followed Matilda to the balcony of the mansion. A large curtain separated the balcony from the hall, granting them some peace and quiet.

“What should we do next?” Matilda held her wine glass, leaning against the railing in a way that made Leo uneasy.

He stepped forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and gently straightening her.

Matilda was surprised at first, then frowned slightly, feigning displeasure. “I told you not to touch—”

“Better safe than sorry,” Leo replied. “I once heard of someone plotting against a noble by replacing the balcony railing with rotten wood. When the noble leaned against it, the railing collapsed.”

“And then?” Matilda shivered at the story.

“Then he became a flying man,” Leo said, using his fingers to mimic a little figure jumping off the railing.

Matilda, despite her fear, couldn’t help but laugh. She covered her face, suppressing a smile.

“All right, Your Highness, you didn’t bring me here just to tell scary stories. What’s the real matter?”

“It’s nothing too serious,” Matilda replied, brushing her hair aside and handing Leo her wine glass. With her hands behind her back, she gazed out at the night, as if to appear more imposing.

“I’m heading to Perugia soon to handle tax issues there.”

Perugia’s tax issues. That had been mentioned long ago.

“I originally planned to bring you along, but now you’re the Bishop of Pisa, so it’s not convenient. Besides, you’ll need to help the Holy See with the southern campaign…”

“So, what do you mean?” Leo was uncertain.

If Matilda wasn’t going to send troops for the campaign, then there would be no support, and Leo’s mission would have failed.

But Matilda suddenly turned, her eyes filled with trust as she looked at Leo.

“I intend to entrust full command of my army to you. Once you return from the southern campaign, just return my soldiers. I will await your good news here, Leo.”

Full command of her army?

Leo felt a pang of guilt. Matilda trusted him so deeply, yet he had just been questioning her intentions—a shameful thought.

Fortunately, his guilt lasted only a moment.

“Thank you, Your High—” Leo hadn’t finished speaking when a commotion erupted from the garden below the balcony. Both he and Matilda looked down to see Rossi, who had vanished from the banquet, stumbling out from the bushes, pants in hand, utterly disheveled and seemingly just finished with some exertion.

Beside him was a noblewoman, equally disarrayed.

More importantly, behind them was a local nobleman from Lucca, clutching a stick and chasing after Rossi furiously.

“Giacomo de Rossi!”

“You slept with my wife!”

“It was your wife who seduced me!”

“That scoundrel…” Leo gritted his teeth. “How does he always seem so proper, yet now he’s doing this?”

As Leo spoke, Matilda suddenly leaned in closer.

She pressed near, bringing with her a sweet fragrance that left Leo slightly intoxicated, pushing all other thoughts from his mind.

“Aren’t you usually quite proper yourself?” Matilda looked up at him, her long lashes framing bright eyes that glittered.

Leo felt as though her gaze was enchanted, drawing him in.

“Don’t you want to?” Her teasing words sent his thoughts racing downward. He wasn’t some ascetic reformist priest, but a man with a modern soul.

“Of course I want to, Your Highness,” Leo replied, unabashed.

Matilda smiled, lightly patting his cheek, then whispered coquettishly, “Shameless…”

“You should have known that long ago,” Leo replied, his hand slipping to her waist, sending a shiver through Matilda’s body, making her realize she was caught in the tiger’s den.

She tried to break free, but Leo’s strong grip held her fast. Finally, she cupped his face in her hands, pleading softly.

“Leo, I’ll wait for you to return.”

Her voice was gentle, like a girl in love speaking to her beloved, though she believed herself to be perfectly rational.

“I’ll reward you when you return,” she said, suddenly slipping from his grasp, lifting the curtain and fleeing back to the banquet hall.

Leo lingered, savoring the scent of citrus and roses in the air.

He felt Matilda’s rapid breath, her hurried steps, even her quickened heartbeat. Words may lie, but the body never does.

The reward was already his.

It mattered not when it was claimed.