Sister I am the Queen in This Life [Novel] Chapter 114

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Lucrezia's End (1)
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The north cellar was a cellar in name only; it was more like a dungeon.
The subterranean level was not only fitted with iron bars but also filled with various instruments of torture.
This was the very place where Zanobi’s tendons had been severed.
Lucrezia shivered, a chill seeping into her bones.
Things outside must have taken a turn for the worse.
Lucrezia had certainly felt a sense of dread when her husband hadn't asked her a single word about the commotion outside.
But she had stayed quiet, afraid of stirring up trouble. She should have done something then.

*'It's fine. It'll be fine.'*

Lucrezia had a proud son and a clever daughter.
Her grown children would take care of their mother.
Lucrezia silently prayed, her fingers tracing the cross on a rosary she had never paid any mind to in her entire life.
Prayer was the only thing she could do.

*'May God grant my children strength, and may He deliver me from this wretched prison swiftly.'*

* * *

Contrary to Lucrezia's hopes, neither of her grown children took their mother's side.
Instead, the only one who made even the slightest effort to save her was her husband, who had seemed to completely abandon her with his words.
Cardinal de Mare, flustered, cautiously asked the other party.

“Signor Scampa. Would exile not suffice? She is the mother of my children… and she has not long lost her youngest…”

But Cardinal de Mare's efforts were coldly rejected.

“If she has not long lost her youngest, then she should know how precious another’s daughter is!”

Signor Scampa roared, the veins on his neck bulging.
He had never imagined he would sit at the same table as someone as lofty as His Eminence the Cardinal, but my, when he was angry, he could even shout.

“What about my daughter! My poor daughter, who faded away without ever becoming a mother! My poor baby, whose body was not even left intact… I will not leave this place until I see that woman’s head with my own eyes!”

Cardinal de Mare had to retreat, having gained nothing.
The demands of the bereaved family were, in some ways, reasonable, and in others, excessively emotional.
Among the demands made by Signor Scampa and the two local cooperatives were reasonable ones like ‘Offer a sincere apology,’ but also demands the Cardinal could never grant, such as ‘Hang Lucrezia at once, cut off her head, and parade it through the streets of San Carlo.’
Amidst it all was a sly suggestion from the Commune Nuova’s representative, who diligently tried to entice him: ‘I can talk down the bereaved family, whose minds are addled with rage, if you would just donate 1,000 ducats to our cooperative.’
One way or another, they reached an agreement a little after midnight, deep in the night.

“See our guests out.”

The exhausted Cardinal gestured to his butler, Niccolo.
The opposing party, drunk on sweat, victory, and a touch of anger, also left the Cardinal’s study and headed for the entrance hall.
Having sent Niccolo to see the guests out, he instructed Sancha, the acting head maid.

“You are to prepare a poison.”

He spoke in a drained voice.

“The kind that brings instant death. It will be sent to Lucrezia at the first crow of the cock tomorrow morning.”

Sancha bowed her head deeply and replied meekly to the Cardinal.

“It will be done, Your Eminence.”

And as soon as Cardinal de Mare was out of sight, she ran as if on wings to report to Lady Ariadne.
Sancha burst through Ariadne’s door and, leaning close to the ear of the young lady already in bed, exclaimed in what was rather a loud voice for a whisper.
Her voice was unable to conceal its excitement.

“My lady! His Eminence the Cardinal has ordered a poison to be prepared! He intends to bestow it upon Lady Lucrezia early tomorrow morning!”

!

Despite the late hour, a spark of life flashed in Ariadne’s green eyes.
She threw off the silk covers and sat bolt upright in bed.
The image of her own mother, now a distant memory, being beaten with a whip by Lucrezia.
The memory of Lucrezia kicking her mother as she hid a young Ariadne behind her, then grabbing Ariadne by the hair.
Lucrezia, who had brought her to San Carlo claiming she had no daughter to offer Cesare, only to meticulously torment Ariadne in every way imaginable.

- “If it weren’t for you, my life would have been better than this! Better than this!”

And the final memory of Arabella, shown by the Golden Rule.
The time for revenge had come.

“There’s no need to prepare any poison. The pantry must be full of it.”

“There are several vials in the kitchen storeroom. All of them were used by Lady Lucrezia.”

Under Lucrezia’s rule, it was common for a servant or two to die.
This time it only became a problem because she had harmed the child of a good family; when a few paupers disappeared, no one ever came looking.
There were never any repercussions.
Lucrezia had chosen to buy poison in bulk and use it vial by vial rather than purchasing it anew each time.

“Bring one out now. I will take it down myself.”

“What? You, my lady?”

“Yes. Don’t let anyone near the cellar.”

Sancha retrieved a vial of belladonna extract from the kitchen pantry.
Inside the thick, translucent glass vial, a violet liquid reflected an eerie light.
Ariadne personally placed the cork-stoppered vial on a silver tray and headed for the north cellar.

* * *

In the north cellar, so cold she couldn't sleep, Lucrezia swung between heaven and hell.

*'My children would never abandon me.'*

*'No, but why hasn't anyone come for me?'*

*'What power do the children have? He must be stopping them.'*

The emotional rollercoaster she rode alone was enough to drive a person mad.
It was then.
- *Creeak.* The sound of the oak door in the corridor opening echoed.
Someone had entered.

“Ippolito?!”

Lucrezia, who had been squatting in a corner, shot to her feet.
But the person who entered gave no reply.

“Isabella?”

Ippolito walked with heavy footfalls.
The person who entered had done so silently, making almost no sound.
It didn't seem like Isabella, but she walked more quietly than Ippolito.
Yet even when she called her daughter’s name, the person remained silent.

“My… dear?”

Lucrezia cautiously called out the name of the person she least expected to come.
- *Click.* The sound of a key turning in the lock of the room where Lucrezia was confined was heard.
A figure stepped inside.
She calmly locked the door again and turned to face Lucrezia.

“My apologies for not being the one you were looking for.”

“You!”

Lucrezia was aghast at the sight of the person who had entered.
It was Ariadne.
She was dressed like the mistress of a great noble house, no, like a member of a royal family.
A tastefully tailored, expensive satin gown, her hair braided and pinned up, large pearl earrings hanging from her ears.
Though nothing was artificially embellished, her every gesture exuded an air of wealth.
On her long, slender finger was the golden seal of the lady of the house.

Lucrezia lost her senses and screamed the moment she saw the golden seal.

“You! You rotten thing! Damn you! Why are you down here! Where are my Ippolito and Isabella?”

“You sound quite spirited.”

Ariadne set the silver tray she carried down on a black table.
A clatter echoed through the cellar.
The pleasantries ended there.
It was time for strength to meet strength, tears to meet tears, and blood to meet blood.

“Father has abandoned you.”

“What?!”

“Paola Scampa’s family and the representatives of the local cooperatives visited the estate today. They just left. Father decided to give them your corpse instead of sparing 300 ducats in consolation money.”

In truth, the 300 ducats were still to be paid; Lucrezia’s head was simply added to the deal.
This slight distortion of the truth was Ariadne’s way of venting her anger.

“That… That can’t be!”

“He must have grown tired of sending gold to the de Rossis. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you take a sip?”

Ariadne pointed to the glass vial on the wooden table.

“Look familiar?”

Lucrezia gasped as she saw the glowing purple liquid inside the vial.
It was unmistakable.

“It’s belladonna extract. They say it works wonders. Of course, you would know best.”

Ariadne smiled sweetly.
Lucrezia was so shocked she could barely breathe.
She wheezed and cried out.

“Ippolito, my son!”

“Your precious son sold you out. It was Father who first came up with the idea of getting rid of you, but I hear it took him less than fifteen minutes to convince my brother.”

Lucrezia gasped for breath.

“That, that can’t be!”

“I’ll also tell you about your darling daughter. Sister Isabella is quite good at playing the fool.”

Facing the panting Lucrezia, Ariadne kindly relayed the news from outside.

“Brother Ippolito told Sister Isabella that ‘Father has decided to kill Mother.’ A daughter is better than a son, after all, isn't she? Sister Isabella did try to stop him once.”

A hint of relief appeared on Lucrezia’s face.
She seemed to be anticipating what would come next.
*‘But what say does Sister Isabella have? Everything went according to Father’s will.’*
But Ariadne’s story mercilessly shattered Lucrezia’s expectations.

“Then Brother Ippolito retorted, ‘Are you confident you can marry as a murderer’s daughter?’”

Lucrezia’s face turned pale.
Lucrezia knew her children’s characters better than anyone.
She seemed to guess what came next.

“After that, Sister Isabella snapped her mouth shut and didn’t say another word!”

Lucrezia finally collapsed onto the stone floor of the cellar.

“No… It’s all lies…”

“Mother, Mother, oh my dear mother. You raised your children with such devotion, what is to be done?”

Lucrezia was now prostrate on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
A mother knows her children.
The stories Ariadne was prattling on about with that clever mouth of hers were all things her children were capable of doing.
But she could not admit it.
She refused to admit it.
To admit it would be to render her entire life a waste.

“You did all this for my brother, didn’t you?”

Ariadne smiled sweetly.
It was a somewhat distorted smile.

“Right before she died, Maletta told me. That Brother Ippolito has a different father!”

Lucrezia, utterly horrified, snapped her head up and stared at Ariadne.

“What dreadful nonsense is this!”

“I’ve been asking around. You came to Cardinal de Mare already with a child in your belly, didn’t you?”

After hearing the story from Maletta, Ariadne had made inquiries, focusing on the old servants who had come up from Taranto.
She couldn’t hear the most intimate details, but she was able to pick up bits and pieces about the circumstances when Lady Lucrezia first came to live with the Cardinal.

“They say Brother Ippolito was born premature, wasn't he? A first child, born to a young mother, born premature?”

Ariadne scoffed and laughed out loud.

“Which is more likely: that a firstborn delivered at seven months would be as healthy as Brother Ippolito, or that a teenage mother lied about the date of her pregnancy by two months?”

“No!”

Lucrezia screamed with all her might.

“Everything you’re saying is just speculation, ‘it must have been like this.’ Where’s your proof! You have no proof!”

“Maletta was the proof! And you killed her!”

“She was just repeating something she overheard! How is that proof!”

Ignoring Lucrezia’s shrill screams, Ariadne strode over and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Stop this pointless resistance. Your son has abandoned you. Are you going to die alone like this? You should drag him down to hell with you!”

Ariadne shook Lucrezia’s shoulders violently.

“Why! Why did you treat Arabella like that! When did I ever ask you to be good to me?! Why were you such a terrible parent even to your own child!”

“…She ruined my life.”

“What did you say?”

“I could have left San Carlo. I could have left San Carlo with Ippolito’s father. But then Arabella was born… Arabella ruined everything! If it weren’t for that wench!”

- *Slap!* Ariadne struck Lucrezia across the face.

“And you call yourself a mother?”

“You don’t know anything, you little brat!”

Lucrezia, collapsed on the floor and her face a mess of tears, shrieked.

“When a woman gives birth, do you think she just thinks, ‘Ah, I’m a mother now. My life as a woman is over.’ Do you think it’s that easy to just give up?!”

Sprawled on the stone floor, Lucrezia howled like a beast.

“I just made the choices that were necessary for me at each moment in the life I was given. But they became a noose around my neck!”

Soaked in tears, Lucrezia hardly looked human.
Her words were slurred and almost unintelligible.
Now, Lucrezia was outright sobbing, half-swallowing her words.

“I lived with Simon because I had to feed Ippolito and my family. While living with Simon, I had another child. And because of that, they said I couldn’t leave with my love! Why! For God’s sake, why! What did I do wrong!”

Ariadne looked down at Lucrezia with cold eyes.

“That’s why most people try not to sin. Who told you to crawl into another bird’s nest with a swollen belly and play the cuckoo? If you had raised Ippolito on your own, you could have followed his father with your head held high!”

Lucrezia lifted her tear-stained face and glared at Ariadne.

“How righteous of you! Do you think life unfolds according to some textbook theory?!”

“If you hadn’t killed someone else, someone’s precious daughter, for the sake of your son, you wouldn’t be locked in a dungeon today, about to receive a cup of poison!”

“Someone’s precious daughter? What’s the big deal about killing a scullery maid, a commoner, for my own precious, precious son? It was just bad luck! Killing one or two commoners is usually no problem at all!”

“You lived like this, so your life is ending like this!”

Lucrezia ground her teeth.

“I hope you have a daughter just like you and hear the exact same thing!”

She screamed at Ariadne.

“You’re young and full of pride, do you think life goes your way? As you live, you have to do dirty things, you just go with the flow of life!”

Lucrezia’s current age and Ariadne’s age at the time of her death were barely ten years apart.

“I have seen and experienced far more than you think, Lucrezia.”

Ariadne stared at her struggling stepmother with disgust.

“I’ve done many dirty things, I admit. I’ve made many mistakes, I admit. But I never lived as recklessly as you.”

Lucrezia watched the approaching Ariadne with fearful eyes.
Ariadne whispered softly.

“Your son abandoned you. Ungratefully. To save his own skin. The very mother who doted on him so. Since you’re dying anyway, at least get your revenge.”

Ariadne asked Lucrezia.

“Who is Ippolito’s father?”

Lucrezia slowly pursed her lips, then parted them.