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He felt like he had thoroughly figured out this outwardly strong yet internally fragile place.
It seemed like the queen was the one holding all the power, but in reality, she was just a figurehead. All the important matters, inside and outside the palace, had to go through the ministers—some of whom even dared to show her disdain right to her face!
A little bribery and a few more rounds of drinks, and nothing was off the table!
Over the past three days, he had drunk several barrels of fine wine and indulged with a few beautiful women—no wonder Sforza, that old rogue, nearly died in bed!
When he woke up from his hangover, Ferdinand bathed and changed, then headed to the meeting hall, intending to get the business sorted before he leisurely spent a few more days here.
But as he walked into the meeting hall, he sensed something was wrong.
The atmosphere had changed.
From the moment he arrived until those three days, the palace had been in a state of revelry, with people dancing and celebrating even under the full moon.
Now, however, he saw the queen sitting coldly on the throne, her earlier jovial ministers now stern-faced and standing on either side, like wolves ready to pounce at any moment.
What was going on? Why had everyone suddenly changed their attitude?
Ferdinand, young and proud, became angry at the shift in mood. In the Aragonese royal family, even though he was a bastard, he was still the rightful heir to the throne—no one dared to protest,not even when he fed a minister's daughter to crocodiles in front of everyone!
"What are you playing at?" he said darkly. "This is what you call a meeting?"
Was that woman sitting on the throne expecting him to kneel and bow?
A joke!
"Is this how you treat the queen?" Niccolò sharply rapped the back of his chair, his voice cold. "Duke Sforza has already pledged his allegiance. Don't you think it's time you repent?!"
So, these people had been toying with him like a fool just a few days ago?
Ferdinand, seething with rage, sneered and pointed directly at the queen’s nose, addressing the nearby nobles, "Is this the queen you all revere? A woman who manipulates with her looks like a whore—are you all really going to stand by and let someone like this sit on the throne?"
"Watch your manners," Dechio said coldly. "Otherwise, we will take this as the entire Kingdom of Naples' attitude toward the Italian Empire."
"Yes, that’s exactly it," Ferdinand retorted bitterly. "You’ve all been waiting for me to say that, haven’t you? What’s the point of this charade?"
He had completely lost his composure, driven by emotion, wanting to humiliate everyone who had toyed with him—preferably in the most severe manner possible.
"Since Italy was founded, you’ve been sending armies to occupy the borders. This is the work of your queen! What does she want? My life? To conquer my kingdom?" Ferdinand turned toward the Milanese nobles, raising his voice. "Go back and tell your lord that if she dares to touch us today, tomorrow Milan will be as much of a ruin as Rome!"
His overconfidence, already dangerous, had been further shattered by the sudden shift in circumstances, and his emotions spiraled out of control.
But instead of backing him up, the Milanese nobles, who should have been on his side, looked at him with pity and remained silent.
Something was wrong... There was something off.
"Where’s Sforza?" he panicked, turning back. "What did you do to Sforza? Is he dead?!"
"Did the clerks record what the gentleman just said?" Dechio asked.
"They did," the clerks all nodded in unison.
"Did everyone hear the insults and attacks he made against the queen?"
"We all heard it," the crowd echoed together.
"This will be considered a declaration of war by Naples against the Italian Empire."
