Chapter 7: Now You May Kiss My Ring

In the grand hall of Canossa Castle, Matilda was anxiously awaiting the outcome.

A sense of helplessness weighed upon her. She felt as though she were a prize to be fought over, a trophy for the nobles of the Duchy of Tuscany, who seemed to see her only as a gift to curry favor with one another.

Only Leo was different.

Whenever she thought of that loyal kiss Leo had given her, Matilda’s heart turned tumultuous. Leo was merely an ordinary clergyman, distinguished only by his title as Papal Legate. With so many rebels outside the city, could he really hold his ground?

“Your Grace—”

An aged voice echoed through the hall as the doors swung open and a familiar figure entered.

It was Vittorio.

At the sight of him, Matilda’s heart suddenly sank. Had Leo lost? She could scarcely believe it. Or rather, in her heart, Leo was someone who could accomplish anything. After all, he had summoned a troop of Corsicans to his side as if from thin air; he was the Papal Legate—what reason could there be for his defeat?

Then Vittorio fell to his knees.

A heavy thud resounded as his knees struck the stone floor. Behind him stood a man with his chin raised and a satisfied smile on his lips, gazing at Matilda.

Unable to contain herself, Matilda rose, stepping quickly toward Leo—so quickly, in fact, that her long legs nearly caused her to stumble.

“Leo, I knew you would be victorious…”

Her attendant, standing nearby, could not help but be puzzled. The Duchess, usually so poised and graceful, had never lost her composure—so why did she become so flustered in the presence of the Papal Legate?

“Your Grace, I have brought you the traitor Vittorio!” Leo announced, his expression unchanging as Matilda approached.

With each step that brought the towering Leo closer, the weight on Matilda’s heart finally fell away. Relief washed over her.

He had truly won.

Surely it was divine providence to have such a brilliant man descend from the heavens to aid her in her hour of need.

The only flaw was that Leo had been sent by the Papacy.

If only such a man could remain in the Duchy of Tuscany, ever at her side, guiding her…

Suddenly realizing her loss of composure, Matilda quickly pinched the hem of her gown to compose herself, masking her earlier slip with a beaming smile.

“Well then, Sir Leo, what do you intend to do with Vittorio?”

Hearing her words, Vittorio raised his head in disbelief.

Why? Leo was nothing but a newcomer, yet Matilda entrusted him so readily with such decisions. What twisted logic was this?

“For the unprovoked assault upon the Papal Legate, and for succumbing to the temptations of the Devil, the only fitting sentence is death. To cleanse him of his sins, I recommend execution by fire,” Leo replied.

He then closed his eyes briefly, consulting his task.

[Choice Triggered: Rebels: Execution by Fire]
[Completion Condition: Execute Vittorio by burning.]
[Reward: 100 Fame, -10 Piety]

To exchange ten points of piety for a hundred points of fame—Leo found no reason to refuse. That was why he made such a recommendation to Matilda.

Matilda did not hesitate; she agreed instantly.

“Let all be arranged as Sir Leo has decreed.”

Vittorio felt as though he must have been struck senseless earlier. Surely this was all a hallucination.

“Your Grace…” Vittorio’s voice was hoarse. “I am a Tuscan… yet you would trust an outsider…”

“An outsider?”

At that moment, Matilda could hold herself back no longer. The composure and elegance that usually marked her manner dissolved beneath a wave of fury.

“Was Goffredo, the man you forced me to marry, not an outsider? Vittorio, you wretch, you think only of your own petty interests! And now you have the gall to speak to me of outsiders…”

“Your Grace, restrain yourself,” Leo interjected, steadying Matilda with his strong arm.

Only then did she feel her emotions subside somewhat.

“I do not wish to see him again.”

With those words, she had all but pronounced Vittorio’s death sentence.

Enrico and another palace knight entered, dragging Vittorio away.

Yet Vittorio was unyielding. Even knowing he was to be executed by fire, he refused to bow his head, fixing Leo with a defiant glare as he was hauled off.

Then let him burn, Leo thought. Let us see what endures longer: his resolve or the flames.

“Oh, and Sir Leo,” Matilda said suddenly, “You have rendered such great service to the Duchy of Tuscany. How should I reward you?”

Leo had not quite caught up with the turn of events and was momentarily stunned. How had he come to receive a reward so quickly?

“You have defended your duchess and eliminated traitors. And though you are a man of His Holiness, you have pledged loyalty to me as well. As your liege, I must reward you fittingly… though do not make it too difficult for me.”

As she spoke, Matilda’s magnanimity shone through for the first time.

“You are truly a generous ruler,” Leo replied with a hint of delight.

“I have always been generous to loyal subjects,” Matilda said, a touch of pride in her voice.

For her, this was a momentous occasion. If chroniclers were to record it, it would surely be: “The Duchess boldly employed Leo, who quelled the rebels within the duchy.” Such achievements were deeply alluring to Matilda.

Meanwhile, Leo pondered what reward he should seek.

What was the sole true wealth of the Middle Ages?

Land.

All production stemmed from land: grain, timber, population—everything. The greatest reward a liege could grant a vassal was land.

As a clergyman, without advancement within the Church, the best way to hold property was through something all too familiar: a monastery.

Monasteries, in later times, were often considered simply church schools. But in the Middle Ages, their power extended far beyond that. In essence, they were feudal lords cloaked in religious authority. Peasants around them paid taxes to the monastery, which also controlled lucrative industries such as brewing, glassmaking, and the production of books. Monasteries, in short, were highly profitable.

Thus Leo’s desire was simple. He would ask Matilda for a monastery.

“Your Grace, I would like a monastery of my own,” Leo said, mustering his courage.

Though he had rendered great service, he was unsure whether Matilda would grant him so significant a reward.

What he did not know was that Matilda, sitting across from him, was inwardly relieved—even secretly pleased.

The reason was simple. If Leo had merely asked for a sum of money, it would have meant he simply wished to profit and had no intention of remaining in Tuscany. But if he held land here, he would be unable to leave—at the very least, he would have to return regularly to oversee it. In that case, Matilda could, with full legitimacy, keep Leo close.

“I grant your request, Sir Leo,” Matilda assented cheerfully, so readily that Leo was caught off guard.

“I shall grant you Corezzola on the banks of the Enza, where you may establish your monastery. You shall also have the northern township’s tax and governance rights, and usage rights to the southern forests—all entrusted to you. But do not hurry to your estate yet; tonight we celebrate your victory.”

Now Leo was truly dumbstruck.

He thought of Feizi in the Western Zhou period, a mere charioteer who, for saving the king, was granted the land of Qin—and later forged an empire. At that moment, a system prompt flashed before Leo’s eyes.

[Territory Acquired: Corezzola]
[Type: Monastery]
[Territory Acquired: Canodenza]
[Type: Town]
[Congratulations, you are now a lord; new features unlocked: Life Focus, Ambition]

There were even new features for acquiring territory? Extraordinary.

As Leo marveled silently at the system, he appeared dazed. To Matilda, this was simply proof that her generosity had stunned him.

If the reward were great enough, Leo would surely stay, she thought.

With some satisfaction, she said, “Do not disappoint my trust in you, nor break your oath, Sir Leo.”

Startled back to himself, Leo quickly bowed his head.

As he did, he saw Matilda’s hand. Her alabaster fingers hovered in the air, as though awaiting him.

“Your Grace, is this…?” Leo looked up and glimpsed the flush on Matilda’s cheeks.

“Do you not favor the hand-kiss ritual?” Matilda turned her head slightly, as if to hide her blushing face.

“Now, you may kiss my ring, Sir Leo.”