Chapter 47 I'm Listening
◎ With a rustle, a pure white cat's head rose from the grass.◎
With a rustling sound, a pure white cat's head rose from the grass.
She walked confidently onto the carpet, her entire white body gleaming. Even without any gold bells or silver collars, the slaves assumed she was a pet brought by a distinguished guest and made no attempt to drive her away.
"Meow~"
Melia meowed deliberately, and when she found that the people around her were busy with their own things and were not paying attention to her, she lowered her body and slipped into the long table.
There was also a blanket under the long table. She found a comfortable position and lay down, waiting slowly.
Darkness enveloped the surroundings, and just as the kitten was about to fall asleep again, clear voices came from the table.
"Lord Artetipus, do you think our plan is... too risky?"
"Risk? No, no, no, whether the rose trellis falls or not has nothing to do with us."
"But, if it's Lord Sura..."
"Then you can go ask Sura."
The conversation suddenly died down, followed by the clinking of glasses. After who knows how many glasses of wine, a younger voice asked meekly, "Sir, if Antonio hadn't touched the flower stand... would we still have fought?"
"Of course, it's also okay to get rid of the others on the list. The chess pieces in the garden have already been moved, and it would be a shame not to use them."
"Then Melia..."
"Oh, I wouldn't dare ruin Sura's plans, would I?"
"Ha ha ha ha."
So it was an assassination attempt on Antonio? Seriously, I thought they were going to kill me again.
The kitten yawned, its eyelids growing heavy, and it seemed to have flown into Elena's arms. She rubbed the comb and meowed loudly, "You're not going to end well—you're not allowed to—"
…
"Don't get close to Antonio--" Melia sat up with a meow, and half of the blanket fell to the ground.
Huh~huh… It was just a dream. No, at least the first half wasn't a dream. Someone was trying to deal with Antonio. The specific method was probably related to the rose trellis in the garden.
But what kind of situation is it that just by knocking down the decoration he can assassinate Antonio?
There's no such scene in "Rose Princess," and even if there was, it has nothing to do with Elena. When the two of them meet, they initially fight together against the enemy, and later on, they fight against each other, leaving no room for anyone else.
"Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore!" Melia rolled out of bed and scurried out of the bedroom. "Let's go now—Sunny, I'm talking to you. If you want to go, just prepare it properly!"
…
Elena doesn't like hunting, at least not with people she hates.
"Huh!" She breathed softly and slipped the dagger into the belt at her waist. Normally, she could hide more weapons, but today she had to wear formal attire. After all, distinguished Greek guests would be arriving, and the delegation would be expressing Greece's goodwill to Caesar over the next few days.
[Humph, God knows how "familiar" they are with the Persians.]
Elena suppressed her disdainful smile, put on a red epaulette, and walked quickly towards the stable.
She once had a rare golden-orange pony that was poisoned to death on a cliff before it grew up. Since then, Elena has only randomly selected horses from the stables provided to the guards, which is safer.
There were still six horses left in the stable, of varying builds. The prettiest of them all was pure white. Unfortunately, its hooves were a bit shorter than its left and right hooves, so it had been left there in humiliation until now.
After all, if you want to show off in front of others, riding a big horse is the easiest way.
Elena took advantage of the situation and rode on the little white horse, chasing towards the mountains.
The wind whistled in her ears, and she gradually calmed down, thinking about the strange meow of the kitten last night.
You will never be happy——
She fell from the roof, rolled over and meowed, and finally disappeared with a puff.
So who does the “you” refer to?
Melia?
No, why would I think of her... Is my brain broken?
Elena shook her head violently, getting rid of Melia's silly smile from her mind.
…
The venison leg was roasting over the fire, and a pretty musician was playing the lyre.
The harvest from early morning till mid-morning filled the baskets, and the wounds of the prey bled, staining the soil dark red. Slaves half-knelt on the ground to process the fresh harvest, while the noble masters sat in the corridors, drinking and chatting.
The sun hangs high above our heads, and the azure sky is like a fine glass bowl, clear and lofty.
The distinguished guests from Greece were surrounded by Romans, and everyone had a warm smile on their face.
"Here's to you!" Gellius said, and he drank the whole glass with his teeth. His cheeks flushed with excitement, and he almost choked on the wine.
"It's no big deal. Anyone who sees this won't just sit there and do nothing."
Gellius was a rare handsome man in Rome, but the man sitting opposite him and speaking was even more... charming.
Antonio had deep violet eyes and raven-black hair, symbolizing wisdom and determination. Not to mention his Greek stone sculpture-like facial features and muscular lines, which made the young Apollo seem to have stepped out of the myth and into the green meadows.
The people around looked at Gellius with envy: No wonder he was so excited, it was incredible luck that he met such a noble and handsome man while hunting and was rescued by him!
"Antonio, can I call you Anthony?" Galius said with a big tongue. "Let's go to the nearby hot springs together this afternoon. The smell there is so strong!"
"Of course." Antonio raised his wine glass politely. The slaves understood and supported Gellius' arms, then lifted him gently and laid him flat on the couch beside them.
The granddaughter of a senator immediately occupied this excellent seat and squeezed together with Illite: not only was she facing Antonio sideways, but she was also facing His Highness Marcus!
Marcus lowered his palm slightly, and the lyre player slowly lowered his voice, letting the notes flow like water into the tranquil atmosphere. The other slaves also walked barefoot obediently, not wanting to disturb their masters' good conversation.
They added water to the wine one cup after another, smearing a layer of lead sugar on the inside of the golden cup. When the wine fell, it stirred up circles of pure and sweet fragrance.
Antonio suddenly frowned. "I know lead candy is popular, but a famous physician warned my father about the toxicity of lead. It can give people headaches and stomachaches, making it difficult to concentrate on philosophical thinking."
"Hahahaha." Ilit laughed like a silver bell: "You actually said exactly the same thing as Melia, really..."
Her smile disappeared in an instant, and she tapped her lips as if she had said something she shouldn't have, then leaned back in her chair in silence.
Antonio waited for the young lady to continue speaking, but she didn't. He naturally changed the subject: "The Luna Festival will be coming soon. I heard that the Luna Festival in Rome is very lively."
Marcus nodded in understanding. "Indeed, my father's birthday falls on the Luna Festival. You should still be in Rome by then, so don't miss it. There will be the most exciting singing, dancing, and hunting."
"Master Antonio, you Greeks don't have a king. Who will lead festivals like the Luna Festival?" Malakis's gruff greeting echoed through the crowd. "But, but you Greeks have so many nobles, and then..."
Oops, that's just a random thing to bring up. Marcus really wanted someone to drag this guy out, but he kept a friendly expression: "Hahaha, Malakis, you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk..." Malakis still said weakly.
At this incredibly awkward moment, Elena emerged from beneath a pillar. Her metal shoulder pads concealed beneath a red cloak, she made her way through the swaying crowd, nimbly and lightly moving toward a corner where many empty couches lay.
Among the crowd, only Antonio, who was facing the porch, raised his head and looked into those blue eyes.
【Deep sea.】
He admired softly, and saw the tall, bright woman sitting on the innermost couch. She had an upright posture, unlike the Romans who were leaning to one side around her.
Even the elegant Prince Marcus had the habit of reclining on the couch. This wasn't a bad habit in Rome, but it somehow lacked a certain sharpness.
It would be impolite to stare any further, so he secretly withdrew his gaze: "Regarding His Majesty Caesar's birthday gift——"
Before he could finish his words, he was interrupted by another drunkard. The man, dressed in the uniform of a Greek envoy, was arguing with the Romans next to him: "Republic... You don't understand a republic at all!"
Wow! The drunk and the sober ones started to make noise at the same time. Marcus and Antonio were immediately overwhelmed: Well, after drinking too much, they come to mess up, what a bunch of idiots!
What's important now is to maintain friendly relations between Rome and Greece, trade with each other, and keep the peace. Who cares whether it's an aristocratic republic or a monarchy?!
But the nobles obviously didn't think so. Both Rome and Greece advocated rhetoric. If you want to make a name for yourself in politics, you must refute the other party with words: even if you use fallacies!
"After all, a traitor like Caesar will bring a lot of trouble!" The drunkard in the delegation waved his hands. "If no one can supervise Caesar, wouldn't it be a violation of the law? As long as Caesar allows it, anything can be done!"
"Shut up!" the blushing Roman shouted back. "You think your aristocratic council is any better? It's ridiculous! Everyone knows they're colluding to commit corruption and embezzle tax revenue. They monopolize commercial mining, deceive the people, and use ostracism to exile opponents!"
"You, you're talking nonsense! Ostracism is a fair rule. We use it to cleanse the corrupt blood. It's different from your Roman redemption law, which harbors so much filth. No matter how wealthy a family is, as long as they receive the most shards..."
"Huh?! What kind of rich family kid? Speaking of which, your court also uses this trick, paying illiterate farmers to help them vote, making the guilty acquitted and the innocent guilty—"
[Enough, someone has to shut them up.]
Marcus and Antonio exchanged a glance, realizing with a wry smile: They were both going for the friendly approach. Standing up here and using their power to control the situation? Sure, but unnecessary. It wouldn't gain much, and it would only damage their existing image.
Fortunately, they all have their own deputies. When the situation really gets out of control, the deputies can come out and end the situation forcefully.
Unfortunately...it is not perfect after all and will leave an impression of conflict.
"Hmm? Is there a debate going on here?"
A clear voice sounded from the doorway, and a girl in a shell-colored robe and straw sandals stepped into the corridor.
Straw sandals! Antonio didn't know why he first noticed the girl's slender ankles. Perhaps it was because the sandals were a bit out of place. After all, Roman nobles were eager to show off their wealth and had to wear golden slippers with gems and pearls.
Pasha, Pasha.
Melia stood briskly in front of the crowd, and the surrounding debate was interrupted by her carefree appearance: at least the Romans understood what kind of prankster this was, and they were a little scared and a little expectant.
"Everyone, isn't today a good day for hunting? I think the barbecue is getting cold. Comparisons like 'Who is stronger, the harpoon gladiator or the fishing net gladiator?' are simply not convincing. After all, everyone knows..." Melia walked across the red carpet to the main seat: "It's not the harpoon or the fishing net that's powerful, it's the gladiators working together."
Hearing her soothing words, Antonio felt a sense of relief from the bottom of his heart and did not notice Marcus's look of surprise.
The tactful deputy immediately patted the slaves on the shoulders and ordered them to present the grilled steaks one by one. The smell of honey and cinnamon filled the air, and the atmosphere of the argument gradually dissipated.
At this moment, a voice suddenly broke out from the crowd: "Go away! We are discussing the Greek and Roman systems. What do you know? Harpoon gladiators, fishing net gladiators, you have watched too many gladiatorial fights, you fool!"
The speaker's voice was loud enough to almost instantly break the harmony that had just been created.
Marcus frowned. "The speaker was a Roman noble, not of low status... What was his motive? Was he simply being carried away?"
[Wow, is this considered a form of eloquence?]
Melia turned around and glanced at him with an arrogant look: "Don't understand? Why do you say that?"
Without waiting for an interruption, he unleashed a flurry of words: "Do you know the difference between oligarchy and polyarchy? Are you clear about the optimal separation of powers? Does collective violence, the violence of the majority, count as violence? Can a gathering of party leaders truly guarantee administrative efficiency? And—in a democratic republic, where people are the masters of themselves, are the people you're referring to adult aristocrats? All aristocrats? All citizens? All the people? Everyone? Are you sure you want to discuss these incredibly serious topics at such a casual banquet, Mr. Big Talker, who has no experience in governing?"
The man who spoke was choked by the series of questions. He never thought that Melia would have a brain one day, and her brain capacity was obviously bigger than his.
The eloquent education he received reminded him that he should refute immediately, ask counter-questions with the utmost confidence, and look for an opportunity to refute the argument.
So he wiped his mouth and puffed his throat: "Hiccup——"
He burped loudly.
"Hahahahahahaha." Marcus led the laughter, and the cheerful laughter concealed the tension just now. Everyone realized the leader's thoughts and began to slowly change their attitudes, naturally reaching their fingers towards the barbecue wrapped in leaves.
Oh, well done.
Elena stood up from the shadows and walked towards Melia's straight back: she suddenly wanted to congratulate this guy on his change, that's all.
The smile suddenly disappeared from her face as she could see the handsome man who looked like a Greek god doing similar movements to her.
Maybe even the expressions are similar.
Antonio picked up his wine glass and approached Melia with curiosity.
She was amazing... She was wearing the same robe as everyone else and had the emerald eyes of a dramatic beauty, yet she still had this air of being separate from the world.
It seems as if it came from a different world, looking calmly at the dusty world.
"Meliya!"
A third voice echoed through the corridors, and Antonio immediately looked outside: a Roman noble was walking in with a proud air...riding on a slave. His face suddenly darkened.
Marcus also frowned. "Oros, what are you doing? Today is a hunting trip to entertain distinguished guests. Don't play slave polo here."
Slave polo was a niche pastime for Roman aristocrats, or at least it was claimed to be niche. After all, riding on slaves in public was not very elegant, and it was generally only an option for night banquets among acquaintances. It was never brought to the Greeks.
He thought the scolding was harsh enough, but he didn't expect that Oros would not leave. Instead, he whipped the slave: "Hey, don't we still have Melia? Hey, do you want to play?"
After saying that, he looked at Melia provocatively.
The latter shook his head decisively: "No, come down quickly, don't you have legs? Don't embarrass yourself."
Haha, hahahaha.
Unexpectedly, the man sneered, "Really? That's not what you said when you were riding on the slave and burning my sister's face alive!"
Rustle—the air suddenly became dead silent.
Melia took a deep breath under the scorching gaze: Damn it, she will be killed by the "sins of the past" sooner or later!
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