Sister I am the Queen in This Life [Novel] Chapter 126

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 126
Chapter Title: The Ball Begins
-----------------------------------------------------------------

The carriage ride with Raphael was exceedingly comfortable and pleasant. Raphael answered Ariadne’s words with a start.

“What? You thought I didn’t get along with my sister?”

“Well, from what Giulia said, you sounded much more frightening than you are…”

Raphael laughed cheerfully at her words.

“Oh, dear. What on earth has my sister been telling people about me!”

Ariadne smiled sheepishly. To repeat all the malicious things Giulia had said would be nothing short of tattling. Fortunately, Raphael filled the awkward silence.

“We have a terrible relationship, especially when we were younger. We even used to pull each other’s hair. Do you have any idea how hard Giulia hits?”

“No, I’ve never been hit by her…”

“Wow, my sister has really matured.”

He smiled and continued.

“She was like a little monster when we were young, but after she went abroad and was away from family for so long, I found myself feeling fond of her and missing her. The bonds of family are a strange thing, aren't they?”

This time, Ariadne’s smile was unnatural as she replied. Family bonds. Was it like the affection between her and Arabella, or her and Sancha?

“Normally, I can’t stand her, but if she gets picked on somewhere, I get angry. That’s why I don’t like being near her.”

“Pardon?”

“When she’s around, everything she does makes me mad, so it’s better if she’s out of my sight.”

They were a perplexing pair of siblings, and it was hard to tell if they got along or not. As she engaged in surprisingly pleasant chatter with a man she had just met, the carriage was already approaching Palazzo Carlo.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you about theology, but I haven't had the chance to bring it up.”

Ariadne tensed slightly.

“But the night is long. There will be plenty of opportunities to talk. Don’t you think, Ariadne?”

They had been so engrossed in conversation that the carriage ride felt short. She, too, smiled brightly.

“If we keep having such fun conversations, the ball might be over before we know it.”

“First, let’s head to the ballroom, signora.”

He felt the carriage come to a stop and raised his left hand. Ariadne smiled and placed her right hand on top of his. Surprisingly, it seemed they could become good friends.

* * *

The nobles’ carriages had to drop off their passengers at a designated spot in Palazzo Carlo and then wait. The location was in front of the great fountain, quite a distance from the main gate of the royal palace. A granite-paved rotary encircled the fountain, and the carriages of noble houses lined up one by one to let their masters out before departing for a parking area in a corner of the palace grounds. Naturally, the area in front was bustling with people.

The distance from the great fountain to today’s ballroom, the “Lily Room,” was too far to walk. It was a display of the king’s authority. Dozens of open-topped carriages, emblazoned with the Carlo dynasty’s crest of a deer and laurel leaves, arrived at two-minute intervals to pick up guests and ferry them deeper into the palace.

The nobles gathered in groups under a tent set up next to the great fountain, sheltering from the last rays of the evening sun. Among them was Giulia de Valdesal.

“Brother!”

She cried out in surprise, then greeted Ariadne warmly upon seeing her.

“Ariadne! Come over here!”

Giulia met Ariadne and Raphael, grabbing her brother’s collar and pulling them both under the tent.

“The sun is still hot. Stay in the shade.”

“What’s this? My little sister is actually looking out for me.”

“There you go again, with your nasty words. Ariadne, my brother might have a bad personality, but he’s not a truly bad person.”

Ariadne let out a small laugh.

“So this is what your relationship is like.”

“What?”

“You both spoke so ill of each other that I thought you didn’t get along.”

“What? Brother, what on earth have you been saying about me!”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Brother!”

Giulia’s partner was Baron Caseri, a vassal of the Marquis Valdesal’s family. The current Marquis Valdesal, Giulia’s father, wanted to eliminate any possibility of scandal until his daughter was formally engaged. Thus, he had rejected all invitations from young noblemen of her age on her behalf and assigned the trustworthy Baron Caseri, who was under his command, as his daughter’s partner.

Baron Caseri was in his early forties, a father of two in a happy marriage. As the heavily pregnant Baroness Caseri was staying with her family to prepare for the birth of their third child and had not yet returned to San Carlo, the Marquis Valdesal had swiftly secured the available man as his daughter’s partner—in reality, her chaperone.

“Young Marquis.”

Giulia’s partner, Baron Caseri, smiled and bowed deeply to Raphael in a show of respect.

“Please, don’t do that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. You are my future lord.”

“Baron Caseri!”

Raphael, as if his cheerful smile had never been, waved his hands in genuine displeasure.

“Brother, just accept it. Since our eldest brother is gone, you have to lead the family now.”

“Giulia!”

Raphael pressed his lips together firmly. To diffuse the tense atmosphere, Ariadne looked around the crowd. Fortunately, she found the perfect person.

“Oh, look over there. It’s Felicité!”

Lady Felicité de Elba, one of Giulia’s friends, had arrived at the ball with her partner. Giulia’s face lit up as she waved to Felicité.

“Felicité!”

“Giulia!”

They approached and clasped hands warmly, and Felicité’s partner beside her offered a polite bow. The rest of their party returned the gesture in unison.

“And this is…?”

Ariadne, still unfamiliar with her peers in San Carlo, asked as she looked at Felicité. In her past life, she had mingled not with the youth of high society but with their parents; in this life, Ariadne was meeting all the young people for the first time. Felicité introduced him with a shy smile.

“This is Young Count Giambattista Attendolo.”

“Ah, the eldest son of the Attendolo family—”

“Please, call me Giam.”

He requested politely, a hint of a smile on his face.

“I have heard much of the renowned Miss Ariadne de Mare, who has taken San Carlo by storm. It is an honor to meet you.”

“Oh, you’re too kind…”

Ariadne smiled, embarrassed, and deflected the excessive praise. Giambattista Attendolo—an interesting choice. Ariadne knew only one ‘Attendolo.’ Sir Iacopo Attendolo, the one who had persistently pursued Isabella, offering her a diamond ring. Iacopo Attendolo was Giambattista’s incompetent younger brother, who would not inherit the title.

Giulia seemed to have had the same thought as Ariadne. She cast a meaningful glance at the couple who had just arrived. Ariadne followed Giulia’s gaze to a pair alighting from a carriage that had stopped at the rotary.

“!”

As if on cue, the man himself, Iacopo Attendolo, was escorting a young lady from the carriage. The most beautiful girl in San Carlo, wearing a pale pink dress, her flaxen hair braided loosely to one side.

“It’s Isabella.”

At Giulia’s whisper, Ariadne nodded. A faint sneer touched Giulia’s lips as she murmured.

“Our Felicité is wonderful in many ways, but there’s no denying she’s the daughter of a new viscount. And yet, she’s brought the heir to the Attendolo family as her partner.”

Ariadne merely nodded in silence.

“But for ‘the’ Isabella to show up with someone like the troublesome Iacopo Attendolo… it just shows how much her reputation has been damaged. It’s a true reversal of fortunes.”

Whether it was because she didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes or because she was sticking to a new concept, Isabella kept her gaze demurely fixed on the ground, obediently accepting Iacopo Attendolo’s escort as she walked carefully. The clothes she wore were not the glittering silk dresses she usually favored, but a thin cotton gown closer to indoor wear, and instead of jeweled ornaments, she wore a crown of fresh flowers. From a distance, she looked like the most innocent maiden in the world.

Finding the sight absurd, Ariadne whispered to Giulia.

“If any strange rumors start circulating in society, please do some damage control for me. I never cut my sister’s living expenses.”

Isabella’s excessive extravagance had been forbidden by a direct order from Cardinal de Mare, but Ariadne had ensured her allowance remained the same as what she had received when Lucrezia was alive.

“Wow. And she still goes around like that?”

Giulia clicked her tongue. Ariadne replied in a slightly resigned tone.

“I guess it’s her new concept. The pitiful country girl.”

A real country girl would have no luxury of wearing a clean, light-colored cotton dress, let alone such delicate makeup. Helping with housework or farm chores would inevitably stain her dress. Ariadne, who truly came from the countryside, felt a dip in her spirits, as if even her poverty had been stolen from her.

“Let’s go.”

Just then, the palace carriage for their turn arrived. Giulia nodded.

“No need to get mixed up with them and ruin our mood.”

The three couples who had arrived earlier left Isabella de Mare in the queue and departed for the “Lily Room.”

* * *

Isabella de Mare looked at the ground for both reasons. It was partly to maintain her pious country girl concept, and partly because she didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.

After Lucrezia’s death, a small faction of older ladies had begun to express pity for Isabella, and among noblemen, there were always those who thought her beauty made everything else irrelevant. But the prevailing attitude toward Isabella in San Carlo was one of avoidance. When she approached, they would sharply turn their heads away as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. Regardless of their personal opinions of Isabella, no one wanted to be seen associating with the reputed mistress of San Carlo’s greatest scoundrel.

*I’d rather not look at anyone than see them trying to avoid my gaze.*

Isabella, left with nothing but spite, bit her lip. But to her immense relief, there were people who had not abandoned her, no matter what others said.

“Isabella.”

“Brother.”

Ippolito, who had taken the de Mare carriage to pick up his partner and had just arrived at the palace, acknowledged Isabella as he stepped down. Beside him was Letizia, looking adorable in a yellow dress.

“Isabella!”

She was in such high spirits that she greeted Isabella loudly. Ippolito, having failed to find a partner on his own, had done as Isabella instructed and asked Lady Letizia de Leonati to the ball. Thanks to him, Letizia had been spared the unimaginable humiliation of attending the ball without a partner at the last minute.

Letizia’s high energy lifted Isabella’s spirits a little. She was a dull, unsatisfactory friend, but having one was a hundred times better than having none.

And there was someone else who couldn’t abandon her. A luxurious carriage entered the rotary, and a young wife disembarked, escorted by an old nobleman. It was the Count and Countess Bartolini.

“Clemente, my dear sister!”

Isabella deliberately smiled brightly and called out in a loud voice. In San Carlo society, there was an unwritten rule that a person of lower status should not speak first to someone of higher status. However, exceptions were made for close friends. Now, as Isabella—a cardinal’s daughter but far from a title—greeted Countess Clemente de Bartolini first, without a hint of hesitation and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the two appeared exceedingly intimate.

People turned their heads one by one to watch the scene unfold. Ambushed by Isabella the moment she arrived, Countess Bartolini glanced at her husband and, fighting back tears, had no choice but to accept Isabella’s greeting.

“Yes, Isabella… Have you been well?”

“I’m so happy you’re at the ball today, sister. I didn’t have anyone to be with, but now I can stay with you!”

As if struck by lightning from a clear sky, Countess Bartolini struggled to maintain her composure.

“I-Isabella… I… I have a prior engagement with the Count and Countess Balzo…”

“That’s wonderful! I hear Countess Balzo is so dedicated to her charity work! I admire her so much! I’ve been dying to make her acquaintance. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you, Count Bartolini?”

The old count chuckled and nodded.

“They’re all older ladies. A bit of young blood will liven things up.”

Beside them, Isabella’s partner, Iacopo Attendolo, chimed in.

“Count Bartolini! My father is in the wine-making business with you, is he not? I have always wanted to hear your wisdom.”

Countess Bartolini’s expression gradually contorted. But oblivious to his young wife’s distress, the old Count Bartolini laughed heartily and clapped Iacopo on the shoulder.

“Indeed, your father is an old friend of mine. The Attendolo family may have entered commerce late, but they possess a long tradition of knighthood. Let us spend the evening together and talk.”

“Thank you, my lord Count!”

The fact that they would be spending the entire ball together was now not just settled; the nail had been hammered into the coffin. Clemente de Bartolini could do nothing but offer a pretty smile.