"Are you really the kid I've been waiting for?"

Mordilo didn't ask this sentence in the end, and even when the two of them were alone, the Count tried not to make too many temptations.

This is because this young man, who calls himself Alexandre Giulian Cambrai, is so unexpected to him.

If the young man in front of him had been brought out of the convent and brought directly to him, Modillo would have had more ways to prove his doubts, and might even use some terrible means against him because of his suspicions.

But now he couldn't do that, and the young man was standing in front of him in such a way that he didn't expect it to happen, which caught Modillo off guard, even worried, for years of preparation for this moment.

What he needed was a puppet that could be his pawn, but the young man's performance made it clear to him that it was impossible.

So, what does it matter if this "George Modillo" is the child or not? Even if he were, would he be willing to be at his mercy and control?

Modillo felt a deep sense of frustration at this moment, he knew that whether this young man's identity was true or not, the plan he had spent so much effort and endured for many years had completely failed.

If he is real, then he cannot be controlled by himself, if he is fake......

Thinking of this, Modillo's body was already soaked in cold sweat.

He knew what that would mean.

The only thing he was worried about now was whether the young man knew who he really was.

But now it was this Alexandre Giulian Cambrai who had truly become the one who brought him the gospel.

When he faced Frederick's attack, it was this Alexander who helped him out of his predicament, and when he took the opportunity to encircle the nobles of the House of Nobles, this Alexander made him a hero in front of the Neapolitan people who saved the Neapolitan crisis as much as he did.

Modillo knew all too well how important it was to have popular support at such a time, and it made him feel that even his sister's son would not be better than this young man.

So what was there that displeased him, Modillo glanced slightly at the young man who was sitting in the carriage with him, and then he felt that he had found the answer.

Because he didn't know what the young man was thinking, it made Modillo uncomfortable, or rather uneasy.

Over the years, Modillo had become accustomed to everything, and he even began to devise a grand plan more than twenty years ago, which made him use his sister as bait, and when George Anne gave birth to a child, he arranged for the child to be secretly raised in a place that even he knew later.

But now, when the most crucial chip in his huge plan appeared, he found that the situation was completely different from what he had envisioned before, not only could he not control this child as he wanted, but he could not even prove that he was true or false.

This caused the frustration in Modillo's heart to gradually turn into a kind of pain that eroded his heart like a poison.

He knew that the pain would become more and more unbearable over time, and whenever he saw this Alexander, he seemed to hear someone laughing at him mercilessly.

Or rather, the one who laughed at it was the Count himself, who was mocking him for all that he had done with so much effort, and that was the end result.

"Tell me, do you want to see my sister?" Mordillo suddenly asked, a strange smile on the corner of his mouth, as if he was sarcastic about the current relationship between everyone.

"Of course, I've always wanted to see her," Alexander nodded, "I went to your Tuylan Palace last time to see her. ”

"Is it just to see her?"

Modillo watched Alexander's expression, he still hoped to find something, maybe this would turn the tide a little. Modillo was already thinking in his heart at this time, even if this young man was indeed the same child, but he was so different from what he hoped for, that he had to seriously consider whether his plan could continue.

Alexander looked at Mordillo seriously, and then said in a very calm tone: "Of course, because she is my mother. ”

Saying this, Alexander stared into Mordillo's eyes and continued slowly: "And you, Earl, not only did you make me lose my mother at a young age, but you also locked me up in a remote monastery. Had it not been for God's favor and my luck, perhaps I would have died in the cellar of that monastery before someone had brought me out of that place. ”

Alexander's words confused Modillo for a while, and he could detect a certain hatred in the young man's look and tone, which should be the child's reaction after knowing some truth, which made Modillo's suspicions shake slightly, he knew that if he was that child himself, he would also be angry when he knew the truth, hating the person who had caused him to happen to all this, especially if he had experienced something terrible.

What made the Count even more aware was that Alexander apparently knew that he had been sent to the monastery on his own initiative, which made the Count's doubts even stronger.

At least he wondered, if the young man was really the child, then who had told him all this, or who had brought him out of the convent?

Modillo pondered in his heart, doubts lingering in his mind, but he didn't have time to continue exploring.

The black banner covered the gatehouse above the palace gates, completely obscuring the coat of arms of the Kingdom of Naples, and at all times it often heralded disaster and misfortune.

All the flags were lowered in front of the black-covered gatehouse as a sign of mourning for the dead king.

Alexander followed Modillo, and as he passed the gates of the palace walls, he paused slightly and looked up slightly.

Under the breeze of early autumn, the royal emblem covered by the black mourning flag appeared and disappeared with the fluttering corner of the mourning flag, and the blue and gold on the royal emblem jumped into Alexander's eyes.

The last time he entered the palace, he was a small person, and he could only be led through a small door next to him, and the king at that time was still the same sometimes sober and sometimes insane Ferdinand.

Now he was standing under the main entrance of the palace, and the young mad king had become a cold corpse, lying alone in a coffin that was meaningless to him, though luxurious.

His crown has been taken off and put aside, and it is believed that few people in the country are truly saddened by his death except for his wife.

Even before he could breathe, people no longer cared about his life or death, but began to worry about who would succeed him with the crown.

At this moment, Alexander could not help but feel a little pity for Ferdinand, who had only met once and had not made any good impression on him.

"King, it's not just a crown to prove one's identity," Mordillo seemed to be able to sense Alexander's mood at this moment, and he also looked up slightly at the coat of arms on the top of the door, "The crown will always shine only on the heads of those who are truly kings, and some people are destined to wear crowns in the future even from the moment they are born, but if they fail to fulfill their duties as kings, they may be knocked off their heads by others." ”

Alexander's heart fluttered, he didn't know whether Modillo's words were implied or felt, after all, there was a person who was the living evidence of his words.

King Enrique of Castile.

Enrique is self-righteous and blind and ignorant, as the king of Castile, he has made all kinds of mistakes again and again but refuses to correct them, even if there were people who were willing to help him, but every time he gradually lost his authority and dignity as a king because of his frequent tricks, and even in the end he could not even save his wife's reputation, allowing others to unscrupulously accuse his daughter of being the queen and someone else's illegitimate seed, and finally it was through this kind of malicious accusation and slander, Enrique was deposed by his half-sister for immorality, and lost the crown of Castile!

Such a man is indeed very much in line with what Modillo said, but one thing that makes Alexander a little concerned is that this hapless King Enrique is precisely his titular father who is George Modillo.

Alexander's mind raced with thoughts, and he couldn't figure out what Modillo's purpose was in saying these things to him suddenly, whether it was really a feeling, a hint or a temptation?

Alexander was unsure whether he should admit that he already knew the identity of his "father".

Alexander knew that if he was really the fat man of George Mordillo, then he shouldn't have known who he was.

Judging from the scene when he was brought out of San Sebaron by Quinto, Alexander could guess that Giorgio Modillo had no idea who he really was.

Even Kunto probably didn't know how important the person he was looking for was, otherwise he and the abbot wouldn't have decided to find someone to impostor him because of Qiao Er's sudden illness.

Perhaps they only know that this man is the illegitimate son of a big man, but they will never know that he will be the son of Enrique, the former king of Castile.

So should you pretend that you don't know who you are?

Alexander had thought he should think so, and that's why he was always vague about his background, despite revealing his "true identity" to Josha.

But looking at Mordillo now, a thought suddenly flashed through Alexander's heart.

Shouldn't he already know about his origins?

At least at a time like this, as a Napoli hero or even a savior, he could already face Modillo.

There was another reason for Alexander's decision to tear through this camouflage once and for all.

He remembered Osborne, the tailor of Palermo.

Alexander still wondered how Osborne could have known such a secret thing, but he never suspected that Osborne had lied to him, unless even the tailor himself had been deceived about "his" origins.

This is because when he had to tell Osborne his secret in the face of danger, the tailor was indeed responsible for keeping him safe.

What would make that slick and sophisticated tailor take any risks to help herself?

Alexander could not think of a greater temptation than the friendship of the illegitimate son of a king, unless it was a king.

It was because of this that Alexander made the decision to have a showdown with Dilo.

All these thoughts crossed Alexander's mind in an instant, and he did not know what the consequences of his speculation would be, but he thought that Modillo would not be stupid enough to act rashly on him, even if he was obviously suspicious, as was evident in the Count's constant cautiousness, although he was obviously suspicious.

Because he was no longer the destitute Alexander he had just arrived in Naples.

"I'm not going to be like that," Alexander didn't say explicitly, and while he watched Modillo's expression of surprise, Alexander simply continued, "I know someone has taken away a crown that doesn't belong to her, and I swear I'll never let that happen to me." ”

Modillo looked at Alexander in amazement, his lips trembled slightly, and even because of the excitement in his heart, Modillo grabbed Alexander's arm desperately as soon as he hurried through the door and walked into a remote corridor.

His gaze was fixed on Alexander's face, as if to find even the slightest hint of suspicion.

"Tell me what you know?"

"I know more than you think," Alexander and the Count looked at each other, "I don't know if you sent the man who brought me out of the monastery, but the man died to protect me, and he was about to meet the man who killed him." ”

Modillo was even more puzzled, he felt that if Alexander was not lying, then there must be something wrong with him, and he even believed Alexander's words a little at this time.

It was because he couldn't think of anything else to explain why this boy, who had been hidden in the monastery that he didn't even know, could suddenly appear in front of him.

"But how do you know," Modillo muttered as he said the name, knowing what the consequences might be if he confessed his relationship with that man, so that even the Count, who had always prided himself decisive, hesitated, and then he said, "How do you know that Enrique is your father?" ”

"I don't know." Alexander shook his head casually, and seeing the anger on Mordillo's face, he continued, "It was a person who told me, and I don't even know if what he said is true or not. ”

"Who is that, who is that person?" Modillo could see that his voice was trembling, and he knew that the young man in front of him was true or false, and that he might soon find out.

"Osborne, a Palermo tailor." Alexander was completely telling the truth,

In fact, he had decided that except for the fact that he was an impostor, as long as Modillo continued to ask, he would tell everything else as long as he knew.

"Osborne?" Modillo was stunned at first, then he looked disgusted as if he had suddenly swallowed a fly, and his gaze at Alexander became strange, and after a while he said, "Let's go back to these things, and now go and pray for the king's funeral." ”

Speaking of this, the Earl suddenly admonished: "Don't say anything about Osborne to George Anne." ”

Hearing this, Alexander's eyelids jumped slightly.

Thinking about the way the Count looked at him, and then thinking about his rather playful command, Alexander couldn't help but shake his head secretly.

It seems that there are a lot of stories about my "mother".