Chapter 106

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: The Importance of Blood Ties
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Lucrezia shot up from her seat at once.

“What is this……. How did she find out!”

Her blood pressure shot up, and it felt as though her eyes would pop out of her head.

“Did she also hear your uncle running his mouth in the entrance hall that day?!”

Ippolito stammered.

“Well……. She heard that, and also, you know, the morning of Arabella’s memorial mass when you came into my room……. That day.”

Lucrezia’s head spun. She couldn’t tell if it was from her son’s incompetence or the gravity of the situation.

“She was hiding in my wardrobe that day.”

Lucrezia’s mouth fell open in shock. Her jaw nearly hit the floor. The only reason it didn’t dislocate was that she had to close it for a moment to scream at her son.

“You little brat, are you out of your mind?!”

Since his mother looked ready to flog him, Ippolito decided to omit the part where he himself had blabbered about Arabella having a different father while seeking advice.
The fact that Maletta knew had already been conveyed; there was no need to ask for a beating.
Lucrezia, on the other hand, couldn’t collect her thoughts.
If Maletta had only overheard Stefano’s slip of the tongue in the entrance hall—that Ippolito and Arabella had different fathers—it would have been Lucrezia’s problem alone.
But if Maletta had heard the conversation she’d had with Ippolito on the day of Arabella’s memorial mass, the problem evolved to an entirely different level.
That day, Lucrezia had clearly stated that she lived with Cardinal de Mare for Ippolito’s sake.
The moron of a son before her didn’t seem to have understood, but women were better than men at picking up on subtle nuances and unspoken meanings.
Maletta was foolish, but in certain areas, she was surprisingly cunning.
Could that little maid really have failed to understand Lucrezia’s words?

“Let’s go.”

Lucrezia strode forward, ready to throw the door open and leave.

“I only told them to throw that wench out. I need to find Loretta right now. I have to kill her.”

*Knock, knock!*
As if on cue, just as Lucrezia was about to open the door, it was flung open from the hallway after a light rap.

“Good heavens!”

Lucrezia was so startled she nearly fell on her backside.
The maid Loretta, whom Lucrezia had been about to search for, was standing right in the doorway.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going! Why do you burst in like that!”

“My apologies, Madam.”

“I was just on my way to find you, so this is perfect. About that Maletta girl.”

“Madam! I was just coming to tell you! We gave her a good thrashing with a club and threw her out!”

“What?!”

Lucrezia nearly struck Loretta, who was waiting for praise.
Ippolito quickly supported Lucrezia and, in place of his dazed mother, questioned Loretta.

“Where did you throw her out?! How far has she gone by now?!”

“Where else? We threw her out the back kitchen door.”

“Hey! How could you handle things so poorly! Let’s go. Follow me, now.”

Ippolito sat his mother down on the sofa, then hurried downstairs with the bewildered maid in tow.
He burst out the back kitchen door and scanned the area, but the buxom, red-haired maid was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it!”

He grabbed the innocent Loretta by the collar and shook her.

“Find out where that bitch went!”

Loretta was shocked by the sudden assault.

“Young Master, what are you doing! The madam clearly told me to beat her and throw her out!”

“Enough talk, just find that wench Maletta! The one who threw her out should be responsible for finding her! You’ve ruined everything!”

Having become the culprit who ruined everything simply by following orders, Loretta felt breathless and waved her hands, tears welling in her eyes.

“Goodness, how am I supposed to find a girl who’s already gone!”

“I don’t care, take responsibility and find her! If you don’t bring her back within a day, I’ll feed you to the dogs!”

Ippolito roughly shoved Loretta away.
Loretta, who had been feeling smug about becoming Madam Lucrezia’s confidante on a secret mission and hoping for some reward, now found herself worse off than before and fled in terror.
Ippolito felt a throbbing pain in his head.

*I can’t let that bitch escape…! I have to find her… somehow…!*

***

Maletta thought this was truly the unluckiest day of her life.
When Loretta, a woman she’d considered a friend, had stormed in and ordered her to be dragged out, she’d wondered if the woman had lost her mind.
When she was dragged to the back room of the kitchen and beaten by the servants, it didn’t feel real.
Even then, Maletta curled her body into a ball to protect her lower abdomen.
It wasn’t so much out of overflowing maternal love as it was the belief that the child was her last lifeline.

“Get out! Don’t even think of setting foot here again! Ptui!”

When she was thrown out the back kitchen door, her mind was a complete blank.
Maletta considered going back into the de Mare estate, but the fear of having been severely beaten by Madam Lucrezia’s confidantes held her back.

*I have to see His Eminence, Cardinal de Mare…!*

Cardinal de Mare was the only lifeline Maletta had left.
He was a man who valued blood ties.
If she threw herself at his feet, crying that she was carrying Young Master Ippolito’s child, wouldn’t he take her in? Or would he…?
Maletta wasn’t sure.
In truth, the simplest solution was to go to the Basilica of San Ercole, wait along the Cardinal’s route, and tattle that she was carrying Young Master Ippolito’s son (she had no way of knowing if it was a son or daughter, but she decided to assume it was a son) and had been beaten and thrown out of the house by Madam Lucrezia.

*But what if His Eminence, Cardinal de Mare, doesn’t take me in…?*

A chill ran down Maletta’s spine.
That would truly be a dead end.
The Cardinal was not a lenient man, and if he decided not to accept Maletta, he certainly wouldn’t let her go unharmed.
So, Maletta subconsciously decided to postpone that option for later.
But unable to go to the Basilica of San Ercole or return to the de Mare estate, Maletta truly had nowhere to go.
She had no money either.
She had spent her meager salary lavishly and hadn’t saved a single penny.
She did have the luxury items she had wheedled out of Young Master Ippolito.
Those could be pawned for a decent sum.
But she had been thrown out so suddenly that she hadn’t been able to grab any of them.

*Home…?*

But Maletta had no home to return to.
Maletta was a refugee who had left her hometown due to famine and flocked to the capital.
Her father had gotten drunk and fallen to his death, and her mother had starved.
Truly, in this wide world, there was nowhere for her to lay her head.
Maletta trembled with despair.
It was then.

“You can’t just stand here like this.”

A woman with a brown hood pulled low over her face called out to Maletta.
Recognizing the woman, Maletta took a startled step back.

*What is she doing here?*

The woman removed her hood.
Beneath it, fiery orange hair, bright as the sun and wrapped in a headscarf, tumbled down.

It was Maletta’s younger sister, Sancha.
With a deeply displeased expression, Sancha instructed Maletta.

“Follow me.”

***

Sancha led Maletta across the city of San Carlo.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t use the word ‘we.’ It’s unpleasant.”

“You should at least tell me the destination!”

“What would you do if you knew? It’s a place you know.”

Maletta, led by Sancha through the streets, was filled with discontent the entire walk.
The final destination only compounded Maletta’s displeasure.
Upon reaching their destination, Maletta could no longer control her expression and finally voiced her irritation.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Maletta pointed her finger at the sign in front of the main gate.

“Why are we here? Are you mocking me?”

—「Rambouillet Almshouse.」
They were standing in front of the Rambouillet Almshouse.
Maletta planted her feet before the almshouse’s main gate and vehemently accused Sancha, pointing her finger.

“Are you taunting me, saying you’re going to dump me back here?”

In response to Maletta’s anger, Sancha rebuked her older sister with a cold expression.

“Stop your whining. Do you have anywhere else to go?”

“Even so, the Rambouillet Almshouse…!”

As children, Maletta and Sancha had been confined to the Rambouillet Almshouse as urban poor and had nearly starved to death.
If there was one place Maletta never wanted to return to, it was, without a doubt, here.

“I’m not going in. I can’t!”

“You’ve learned only the worst from ‘Miss Rossi’.”

Sancha clicked her tongue and, paying no mind, stepped into the Rambouillet Almshouse.

“It’s not what you think. Follow me.”

As Sancha had said, Maletta had nowhere to go.
Far from having a place to go, she had been thrown onto the street without a single Florin silver coin.
She had no choice but to follow her estranged sister.
Sancha passed the central wing where the poor were housed and headed for the administrative building, which contained the managers’ offices and quarters.
She visited Mr. Camondo, the Director of Planning and Finance, who was the acting head of the Rambouillet Almshouse.
*Knock, knock.*

“Come in.”

After receiving permission, Sancha calmly entered the director’s office.

“Miss Sancha. Thank you for coming. May I offer you something to drink?”

Maletta’s eyes felt like they would pop out of her head in astonishment.
The Director of Planning and Finance was the man who held the power of life and death over the residents when she was at the Rambouillet Almshouse.
If the director ordered rations to be cut, the poor would collapse from hunger like reeds; if he ordered the heating to be cut, they would shiver in the massive stone building until they froze to death.
He was, quite literally, as high and distant as the heavens.
And now, such a man was speaking to Sancha with polite deference.

“No, thank you. I must be heading back shortly. I stopped by to offer my greetings as the person my lady asked about has arrived today.”

Mr. Camondo then looked at Maletta, who was standing behind Sancha.

“Ah. So this is the person Lady Ariadne spoke of.”

Sancha pursed her lips, resisting the urge to tell Mr. Camondo that there was no need to refer to her sister so formally.
Since entrusting Ducat gold coins to the Rambouillet Almshouse in the Queen’s name, Ariadne had frequently visited, building a rapport with the administrators.
Through small donations, regular contact, and modest gifts, she maintained a very amicable relationship with them.

“That’s right. She will be in your care at the almshouse for the time being.”

Maletta, unable to comprehend what was happening, could only dart her eyes around.
*Surely, they don’t mean to throw me into the paupers’ ward?*
*How did Lady Ariadne know I would end up here?*

“Please ensure she can stay somewhere where she won’t attract much attention….”

Sancha briefly considered asking Mr. Camondo to prevent Maletta from going outside.
But that seemed a bit too harsh.
Maletta wasn’t unaware of the dangers outside, and besides, with not a penny to her name, there was nothing for her to do out there anyway.
Moreover, asking to have a guest confined might harm her lady’s reputation.

“Is there anything else you require?”

“No. I will come to get her when the time is right. Please contact me if anything unusual happens.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t you worry.”

After bidding farewell to Mr. Camondo, it was time to go to the lodgings.
The operations manager, a Mr. Stampa, was in charge of room assignments.

“Mr. Stampa? Are you there, Mr. Stampa?”

“Who is it? What a nuisance.”

In contrast to the polite Mr. Camondo, Stampa was a middle-aged man with food stuck in his bushy red beard and the strong stench of sweat clinging to him.
His work ethic didn’t seem particularly diligent either.
He only came to the counter after being called several times, his messy red hair suggesting he had been napping in the middle of the day.
Despite Stampa’s gruff response, Sancha greeted him cheerfully.
She acted with the conviction that her attitude reflected upon her lady.

“Good day! You must be Signor Stampa, the operations manager, correct?”

Flattered by the elegantly dressed young girl, Stampa reluctantly softened his demeanor slightly.

“That’s me. And who might you be?”

“My name is Sancha, and I work for the second daughter of the de Mare family.”

Sancha specified that she worked for Ariadne, not for the Cardinal de Mare’s residence.

“I’ve come to ask that this person be allowed to stay in the lodgings you manage, Signor Stampa. I have already received approval from Director Camondo.”

Stampa clicked his tongue, displeased.
He scratched his maple-red hair and grumbled.

“Is it really a request when you’ve already tied my hands and feet? If it’s an order from Mr. Camondo, I have no choice but to follow.”

Sancha smiled amiably and bowed.

“We’ll be in your care.”

Sancha added one more thing.

“Please look after her well, and make sure she doesn’t wander outside as she pleases.”

It was a statement that left it ambiguous whether Maletta was a hostage or someone to be protected.
Mr. Camondo was a high-ranking administrator whose opinion could affect Lady Ariadne’s reputation, but Mr. Stampa was just an ordinary manager whose views would never reach high society.
Sancha felt at ease asking him to keep an eye on Maletta.
She could have slipped Stampa a few silver coins, but she had no desire to go that far for Maletta.
So, after offering some empty pleasantries, she left Maletta with Mr. Stampa.
Just before leaving, Sancha said to Maletta in a low voice.

“Madam Lucrezia is out for your blood. It would be best not to return home for a while.”

Maletta screamed.

“What are you going to do to me…! Are you going to leave me here forever?”