Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter: Volume 10 [Complete] by Riku Nanano

Author:Riku Nanano
Language: eng
Format: epub

It was past noon, and nerve-racking secret talks with Doge Pirro Pisani on the subject of peace with the Leinsters had left me exhausted. When I finally made time amid the endless series of meetings to return to the Nitti house on the central island, I found our elderly steward, Toni Solevino, waiting to greet me in the entrance hall.

“Welcome home, Don Niche,” he said.

“I won’t stay long. I only dropped in for a change of clothes,” I replied. “Speak with me while I walk.”

The old steward followed me as I strode the hallways. Once renowned for his skill in espionage, he had lost his right hand on an assignment in the former Principality of Etna and now wore a black prosthesis in its place.

Through the metal window bars—installed during an upheaval in the city a century prior—I could see a fleet of gondolas coming and going on the Grand Canal. Daily life in the city never changed, even in wartime. I was no patriot like Marchese Carnien, but I had been born a Nitti, a member of one of the league’s most distinguished houses, so I would strive to preserve this view.

On the way to my chamber, I let Toni in on a matter of the utmost secrecy: “The doge will act personally to secure peace.”

“Truly?” Toni gasped. “Congratulations, sir.”

“I did nothing but stand back and wait while my father extolled the virtues of a speedy peace. The doge was persuaded by his persistence and— No.”

Doge Pirro, whose house of Pisani was every bit as illustrious as the Nitti, was a wise man. In his more than seventy years, he had been a skilled merchant on the Holy South Sea and fought in both the Second and Third Southern Wars. But not even he had been able to resolve on peace talks with the Leinsters.

Our severe disadvantage on the northern front was undeniable. The terms of peace would inevitably prove humiliating. At worst, not even a fracture in the league was beyond the realm of possibility. The doge’s anguish and the pressure put upon him defied imagination.

And yet, in the past few days, he had suddenly started speaking of the need for peace. Was I wrong to credit his conversation with that infuriating man for the change? I recalled the news that I had reported to the doge in the early morning four days ago: “The Leinsters’ Lady of the Sword and her ‘Brain’ are in the city.”

I could feel the scowl creasing my face.

“Don Niche?” Toni asked anxiously. “Do you feel unwell?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I had given Paolo his instructions and arranged that meeting in the café. But the doge had made this momentous decision himself.

“Pay it no mind,” I replied, speaking as normal to reassure the old steward. “I’m only a little tired.”

“I am in awe of your exertions, sir, but you have driven yourself day and night since the outbreak of war. Perhaps—”

“I can manage. My work is almost done.” I paused, then added, “Thank you.

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