Sister I am the Queen in This Life [Novel] Chapter 155

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 155
Chapter Title: The Final Act of Queen Marguerite's Poisoning
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“You're the one who put Queen Marguerite in danger, not me.”

“What did you say?”

At Strozzi’s audacity, turning the tables on her, Lady Carla’s fingertips trembled.

“What kind of servant plays their own political games without consulting their sovereign? Poisoning your own master to eliminate a rival? That's insane.”

“Sh-shut your mouth!”

In truth, this was something Lady Carla had vaguely feared herself. To hear it from another's lips—and a co-conspirator's at that—made her want to clamp her hands over her ears.

But Lady Carla had her own retort.

“And what about you! Instead of protecting Her Majesty Queen Marguerite, who took care of you when you were exiled from the Kingdom of Gallico and helped you resettle in Etruscan, you send her poison?”

“Who said I did the right thing? I just want to point out that you're just as much of a scumbag as I am, Lady Dieudonné.”

The man continued, unconcerned.

“You knew, didn't you? That Palerme de Montpellier was behind me. You wanted to make a good impression too, on our new king.”

“Sh-shut your filthy mouth!”

Lady Carla couldn't honestly deny it. Hoping for Philip IV's favor, she had overstepped her bounds to accommodate Grand Duchess Lariesa. She had told herself it was because they were young compatriots in a distant foreign land, but deep down, she knew it was all just an excuse.

“You had a vague idea what that powder you were mixing into her citron water was, didn't you?”

For the past three years, Lady Carla had been receiving a fragrant powder from Strozzi and mixing it into Queen Marguerite's citron water. Strozzi had claimed it was a precious spice made from vanilla beans from the Moor Empire, roasted with pomelos from Mount Acereto.

But after taking the powdered spice for so long, Queen Marguerite had fallen ill frequently, become extremely sensitive to the cold, and suffered from minor nosebleeds and bleeding gums.

Yet Lady Carla couldn't stop serving it to the queen. Strozzi had told her it was a sign of goodwill from a 'noble person in their homeland' and that, when the time was right, it would be used as proof that he had not forgotten his aunt.

“You kept your mouth shut and didn't report me because you knew you had something to hide, too.”

At first, she had gladly cooperated, thinking she was building a bridge between her politically troubled sovereign and the new king of Gallico. If the queen's relationship with her family improved, her home country's influence could put a stop to the humiliation Marguerite suffered at the Palazzo Carlo.

But the awaited word from Philip IV was always promised for 'next time'. Even after the queen's health deteriorated so noticeably that Carla thought she should stop, a faint glimmer of hope—no, greed—held her back.

The Dowager Countess Dieudonné and the young Marquis Dieudonné, imprisoned in the Fortress of Le Sart. Her elderly mother and her youngest brother, the only surviving man in their family.

“Isn't that right? You've come too far to back out now, my dear Lady Dieudonné.”

Strozzi’s sneering voice pulled Lady Carla from her reverie. She gritted her teeth and retorted.

“S-since things have come to this, I have to reap the rewards! If I hand you over to the king, Rubina will walk out of that prison triumphantly on her own two feet!”

She would never admit her own greed, her ambition, her overreach in front of this scum. But the middle-aged man wouldn't let her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“See? In the end, you and I are exactly the same.”

Lady Carla had no choice but to resort to the authorities.

“Get lost! Before I call the Royal Guard!”

The man gave a greasy smile.

“Ah, but I can't leave yet. The harvest isn't finished. My human tool was rather disappointing, you see. I realized I'd have to finish the job myself.”

“What do you mean by—”

Lady Carla’s pupils dilated as she was still trying to understand his words.

“Ghk...”

A searing heat washed over Lady Carla. A palm-sized dagger was embedded in her abdomen. The man had stabbed her. He slowly twisted his wrist.

“Gahk...”

As the life drained from her, 'Mr. Strozzi' whispered in Lady Carla’s ear.

“If you're going to look out for yourself, you should have done it properly. You're too stupid to walk the tightrope, doing neither one thing nor the other, neither loyal nor a traitor.”

He handled the dagger with precision and finesse. He seemed very accustomed to this work.

“Let's be honest, you cooperated because you wanted to earn credit and save your family. So naive. That's not how you earn credit. You're not some big shot. You get nothing for sitting on the fence like a bat, just watching from the sidelines.”

He yanked the dagger from Lady Carla's abdomen. A gush of warm blood followed.

“I will now be restored to my former position by the grace of the great King Philip IV and return to my homeland. If only you'd been a little smarter, you could have come with me. Tsk, tsk.”

The man carefully seated Lady Carla’s still-warm body in her office chair, then stacked books high on the desk to obscure the view from outside. Anyone opening the door would have a hard time telling if it was a person engrossed in a book or a lifeless corpse.

Then, he cracked open the door and peered into the hallway. No matter how often the guards patrolled, there were inevitable gaps between their rounds. At that moment, no maids or servants were in sight.

He slipped across the hall and into the head lady-in-waiting's antechamber, which Lady Carla had been using. From there, just beyond a single curtain, was the queen's bedchamber, where she lay sleeping.

He took out a glass vial from his coat. The queen's end had to be carried out as instructed. He had a good feeling about this.

***

「Queen Marguerite has passed away. All who receive this message are to report to the Palazzo Carlo immediately. Confidential.」

Ariadne couldn't believe her eyes.

“Impossible...”

After reading the short letter sent from the palace to Cardinal de Mare with her father, Ariadne rubbed her eyes and stared at the piece of parchment again.

“How could this have happened? Are there any details? Have any details been released?”

“As you can see, this is all I've received.”

The letter had been sent to Cardinal de Mare by Marquis Valdesal, the minister of the palace's internal affairs.

“We'll likely hear more details by this afternoon. I must go to the palace.”

“Father, please take me with you.”

Ariadne was desperate. Where, what had gone wrong?

“Don't be ridiculous.”

But Cardinal de Mare coldly rejected his daughter's request.

“This is not your place. I will find out what happened and return, so wait quietly at home.”

He neatly put on his cardinal's red hat, summoned the family's silver carriage, and departed for the Palazzo Carlo at once.

“Hah...”

Though her father had coldly refused her, she couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Ariadne picked up a pen and paper. The first person she thought to write to was Prince Alfonso. But her hand stopped of its own accord.

If the news was true, Alfonso had just lost his mother. Until it was certain—and Ariadne still didn't fully believe the queen was dead—it felt inappropriate to offer condolences. Yet it was just as awkward to press for details when his mother had just passed away.

Instead, she wrote to Giulia de Valdesal. She hoped Giulia might have heard something from her father, the minister of internal affairs.

“Here, run this to the Valdesal estate immediately. If it's not too much trouble, wait for a reply and bring it straight back.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The servant in charge of mail took the letter and quickly left the mansion. Ariadne pressed her hand to her forehead. Her head felt like it was splitting, but the daily chores that needed her attention hadn't disappeared.

“My lady, are you ready?”

Sensing the grave atmosphere, Sancha asked cautiously. Ariadne nodded.

“Work has to be done. Let's go.”

The moment Ariadne left her study and went downstairs, she ran right into the last people she wanted to see. Isabella and Ippolito, who had deigned to come out and were having a snack together.

“Just when we thought you'd made a name for yourself by saving the queen's life.”

Isabella sneered the moment their eyes met. As if they were only in sync for moments like this, Ippolito, who was picking up a fried meatball, chimed in.

“A three-day reign, it was.”

“How does our dear little sister have such a talent for backing the wrong horse?”

Watching Isabella cackle, Ariadne felt the urge to take off her shoe and throw it at her.

“Watch your mouth, Isabella de Mare.”

“Oh my, what will you threaten me with this time? Tell on me to the palace? To whom at the palace? It seems your backer, the queen, is already dead!”

Ariadne gritted her teeth and spun around. They weren't worth her time.

But Isabella was persistent.

“Brother, did you see how coldly Father left her behind?”

“Last time she got to enter the study, I thought her status had risen, but today she's back to being the family outcast, isn't she?”

The two of them were only ever so brotherly and sisterly at times like these. With a grind of her teeth, Ariadne spoke to Sancha.

“Sancha. If it is certain that Her Majesty the Queen has passed, we must express our condolences. After the official notice is given, the kitchen is not to serve fried food or meat for a week. For one month, the allowance of all family members, excluding Father, will be cut in half. The deducted allowance will be donated to the Rambouillet Almshouse.”

The meatball Ippolito had been munching on got stuck in his throat.

“Cough! Cough!”

Completely ignoring the struggling Ippolito, Sancha, who had been simmering with rage alongside her, answered promptly.

“It will be done, my lady!”

Startled by the news of her allowance being halved, Isabella shrieked.

“Hey! By whose authority!”

Ariadne spat out coldly.

“If you have a problem, take it up with Father. If you don't want your allowance cut, you'd better pray the queen is still alive.”

Leaving the two dreadful humans behind, Ariadne finished her inspection of the storerooms. On her way back to the study, the mail servant she had sent to the Valdesal estate that morning found her.

“My lady, here is the reply from the House of Valdesal, as you commanded.”

Ariadne snatched the letter hastily. Slipping into her study, she tore open the envelope without even taking the time to sit down.

「Dearest Ariadne,」

Ariadne frowned as she read the first line. It wasn't Giulia's handwriting.

She quickly scanned to the bottom of the letter and saw a cursive signature.

「Raphael de Valdesal.」

*'I didn't send the letter to Raphael, so why...?'*

But at a time like this, it wasn't a particularly important detail. She focused on the letter's contents.

「Father was summoned urgently last evening and has not yet returned home. The family is also unaware of the details. However, it is certain that Her Majesty Queen Marguerite has passed away. The cause appears to be poisoning, and I'm told the palace is pursuing a likely suspect. I will write again if I learn anything more. I know this must be a great shock, but please take care of yourself until then.

Sincerely, Raphael de Valdesal.」

So, Queen Marguerite's death was certain. The news drained all the strength from Ariadne's body.

*'Where, just where did I miss something?'*

An overwhelming sense of helplessness choked her.

*'Can the future truly not be changed?'*

Just then, a whisper, like a gust of wind, pierced her ear.

- Did you think you could change history without sacrifice? How foolish.

*!*

Ariadne snapped her head up and stared into the empty air, but of course, there was nothing there.

- What did you think you could accomplish by staying on the sidelines, trying to remain the good person? Shouldn't you be prepared to get blood on your hands?

Ariadne was prepared to get blood on her hands to save Queen Marguerite. But whose blood was she supposed to shed?

“What should I do, and where? If there's something you want from me, tell me!”

She cried out in an agitated voice, but it was a futile echo. Only a chilling air lingered in the room, and there was no reply.

Staring into the empty space, Ariadne gagged as a wave of nausea washed over her.

“Ugh!”

A sour taste rose from her stomach into her throat. It was the dry heaving that had completely stopped after she started eating more regularly, thanks to Alfonso.

She retched into a brass washbasin for a long time. After throwing up even the stomach acid, she felt a little better, both physically and mentally. A single tear streamed from Ariadne's eye as she lay sprawled on the carpet next to the basin on the floor.

*'Your Majesty, Queen Marguerite...'*

***

Count Cesare visited the palace's underground prison once again.

“Cesare!”

Looking decidedly more haggard than before, Countess Rubina's face lit up as she greeted her son.

“Do you have good news? Did the king say he'll release me?”

Cesare roughly threw an official document prepared by the palace onto the floor. Countess Rubina fumbled her hand through the bars, picked up the paper, and read its contents.

「Her Majesty Queen Marguerite has passed away.

The funeral will be a state funeral. After a 21-day period of mourning, a memorial mass will be held at the Grand Cathedral of San Ercole, followed by a separate funeral service.」

After reading the parchment, Countess Rubina's expression twisted.

“Th-this is... What is the meaning of...”

Seeing his mother's expression, Cesare bit out.

“This wasn't your doing, was it, Mother.”