Chapter 171

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 171
Chapter Title: Petty Jealousy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In mid-June, Ariadne had more or less finished purchasing the wheat.

“Lady de Mare. Here is the interim report.”

Mr. Caruso handed Ariadne a report. He had visited the de Mare estate for a mid-term settlement.

Sunlight streamed through the arched window, softly illuminating the study through the linen curtains.

Petruccia sat beside Ariadne as she meticulously flipped through the report.

Her hair was still short, but unlike her time at the Boccanegra Company, she was now wearing an indoor dress meant for a young girl.

She looked much more comfortable in clothes that fit her properly.

While Ariadne reviewed the report, Mr. Caruso subtly asked.

“My dear, are you settling in all right?”

When Ariadne had first requested his daughter as an attendant, Mr. Caruso had thought it was merely a warning.

He assumed Ariadne de Mare simply wanted to ensure the Boccanegra side wouldn’t spread rumors about the ‘Heart of the Deep Blue Sea.’

However, he soon realized how shortsighted he had been.

When he went to the de Mare estate at midnight that day with the ducats and the contract, he found his daughter wearing a girl’s dress.

Realizing that Lady de Mare knew everything and had taken Petruccia, he intuited that his daughter was being held hostage.

‘She’s taking double, even triple precautions.’

Unaware of her father’s thoughts, Petruccia smiled brightly.

“Father, it’s so wonderful here. I don’t have to lie.”

Ariadne, who had been reading the report, added a word.

“She’s a bright and clever child. A fast learner. You’ve raised a fine daughter, Mr. Caruso.”

“Th-thank you.”

He replied, taken aback. Ariadne placed the report she had finished reading on the desk.

“I’m pleased with the purchase price and the quality is good. What remains is the 30,000 ducats we received in cash, but we were originally supposed to buy wheat with the entire sum, weren’t we?”

“That is correct, my lady.”

“The price was lower than expected due to the bountiful harvest. We’ve already succeeded in purchasing the amount of wheat I had in mind, without even using the full investment.”

While more was always better, the warehouse she had rented had its limits.

“How about we use about 20,000 ducats to buy the rest of the wheat and fill the warehouse, and with the remaining investment, we could buy something smaller in volume but higher in value?”

Things like beeswax, linen, and mugwort would sell well during a great plague.

“For example…?”

“Preventative supplies.”

Preventative supplies? Mr. Caruso narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Weren’t they currently purchasing grain to prepare for a food shortage?

Ariadne floated the idea lightly.

“If the locust swarms continue to move north, won’t epidemics follow?”

Mr. Caruso seemed lost in thought. The very model of a wise merchant. Ariadne was currently selling him a story.

His refusal to immediately fall for an unsubstantiated claim was a sign of Mr. Caruso’s potential for great success.

‘He’s smart, which is annoying.’

She looked for a reason that could persuade Mr. Caruso.

“Even if it’s not to prepare for an epidemic.”

Every winter, the days grew shorter, and more candles were inevitably used. Beeswax was also an ingredient for candles.

“We could also stock up on beeswax in preparation for winter. The warehouse has its limits, after all.”

There was a reason she had brought up the word ‘beeswax.’ Beeswax was a luxury item, and a merchant’s profit margin on it was high. Much higher than for wheat.

And the Boccanegra Company would take a share of that profit. Mr. Caruso’s eyes lit up.

“Beeswax?”

“Yes. Would you be willing to handle the purchase of beeswax as well?”

“…Beeswax. It has a long shelf life, so even if it doesn’t sell this winter, we can sell it slowly over time.”

Ariadne smiled to herself. *He’s not falling for it because of the storage life, but because of the company’s profit margin.*

“Excellent. Then please use about 10,000 ducats to purchase beeswax. The origin doesn’t matter, but it must be in our warehouse by the end of July at the latest.”

“That’s a rather tight schedule.”

“It’s my condition. It can’t be helped. I will not accept any goods that arrive later than that.”

“…I understand.”

A client’s demands, no matter how strange, had to be met.

A person who makes strange, seemingly irrational demands—that, in fact, was the essence of a client. Mr. Caruso nodded.

* * *

While Ariadne was finalizing the wheat purchase, Isabella was struggling to re-establish her place in high society.

“Why are you only waking me now! Today is the Silver Cross Ladies’ Association meeting!”

Having managed to join a group of wealthy ladies who did volunteer work thanks to the adulteress, Countess Clemente de Bartolini, Isabella threw a fit at her new maid for waking her when the sun was high in the sky.

“I-I’m sorry, my lady!”

Sienna, Isabella’s new maid who had been hired after Maletta’s death, hastily bowed her head.

She had only been serving this new lady for a short time, but Sienna had realized from the moment she arrived that her dazzlingly beautiful new mistress’s temper was as exceptional as her beauty.

“Shall I massage your feet?”

“Are you an idiot? Do you think I have time to sit around for a foot massage? Go run my bath right now!”

“Yes, yes!”

Isabella had recently grown quite close to the members of the Silver Cross Ladies’ Association.

Countess Balzo, the leader of the group, had begun to treat Isabella like a sweet and pretty younger sister.

The rest of the members didn’t matter.

Baroness Loredan agreed with anything Countess Balzo said, and Clemente de Bartolini was in no position to say anything unpleasant to Isabella.

Thanks to this, even Ippolito was benefiting.

“Isabella!”

“Knock before you come in!”

As Ippolito barged thoughtlessly into his sister’s room, Isabella, who was preparing for her bath with only a robe on her body and a towel on her head, snapped at him furiously.

Normally, Ippolito wouldn’t have let it slide, but since he had been getting a fair share of benefits from his sister lately, he graciously overlooked it and asked with a broad smile.

“Is Ottavio attending today?”

“Do you have no brain? How could Ottavio de Contarini possibly follow us on a volunteer trip to a convent? A. Con. Vent. A place forbidden to men.”

“Well… I heard it was an orphanage, so I thought maybe…”

“It’s an orphanage attached to the convent.”

“Tch, so high and mighty.”

Ippolito grumbled, annoyed.

“Stop going to such strange and boring places and pick somewhere decent for your meetings. A salon, or a drinking party, or something.”

Isabella scoffed, dumbfounded.

“Hey! Can’t you see your sister is struggling all on her own?”

She rolled her beautiful purple eyes and gave Ippolito a pathetic look.

“You useless bastard. I’m suffering the humiliation of being dragged to convents, nursing homes, and orphanages of all sorts, washing dishes and mopping floors, sucking up to Countess Balzo to finally make a place for myself, and you say what? A drinking party?”

“Hey, that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Normally, Ippolito would have screamed back at her. The fact that he was questioning her so mildly showed he had something to lose.

“What? Do you think I’m doing this for my own good? We need to pick those kinds of places so Ottavio will come, and Count Cesare will come too.”

Ippolito had mentioned his male peers with the thought of expanding his own connections, but hearing this, Isabella’s pretty violet eyes also lit up.

With Prince Alfonso out of the picture, Isabella had to find a new marriage prospect.

Cesare de Como had been inexplicably stiff with her last time, but that only fueled Isabella’s competitive spirit.

‘You’re the first man to ever treat me like that.’

Any male creature past puberty had always knelt helplessly before Isabella de Mare.

There wasn’t a single one who didn’t fall for a sweet smile or a kind word.

‘Let’s see how long you can hold out.’

Bombarded with a baptism of affection coated in sugar and whipped cream, Count Cesare would eventually crumble.

Isabella’s world had always been that way.

And Ottavio. He was a decent backup plan, and also a stepping stone to reach Count Cesare.

‘And getting to turn Camelia de Castiglione’s stomach inside out is just a bonus.’

Camelia would surely tremble with rage when she found out her fiancé was stuck to Isabella’s side, waiting on her like a servant.

The sight of it… It was delightful just to imagine.

“Well… alright. You need to establish yourself too, I suppose. I’ll try to suggest we pick a place where Signor Ottavio can come next time.”

A visible look of delight spread across Ippolito’s face. Isabella casually posed a question.

“Brother, have you been in touch with Count Cesare lately?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. That bastard? He’s unreachable. Doesn’t even reply to my letters.”

Count Cesare had recently cut off all contact with the outside world, spending his days drinking himself into a stupor inside his mansion.

Half of it was out of despair for his own situation, but the other half was to stay out of Leo III’s sight.

The king had warned him ‘not to cause ripples on the water’s surface.’

If he were seen socializing with people outside, it could give the impression that he was playing politics regarding the assassination of Queen Marguerite.

This was a time to lie low and appear like a libertine. It was wisdom Cesare had learned through numerous hardships since he was young.

But Ippolito, who knew nothing of these circumstances, said in a resentful voice.

“He’s looking down on me because I’m not the head of the family, because I’m not a nobleman! The filthy bastard, and he’s a bastard himself!”

Ippolito clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

“If only I become the head of the family, if only I become the head…! I’ll make sure no one ever looks down on Ippolito again!”

Without Cardinal de Mare, the de Mare family was no different from a commoner family.

For the family Ippolito was to inherit to have any meaning, he had to either succeed as a soldier or acquire a title through marriage.

That was why the late Lucrezia had so desperately waited for her son to distinguish himself at the military academy in Padua.

“Because I am the man who will inherit the family!”

Isabella was about to sneer, ‘A useless bastard like you is never going to make it as a soldier, and do you think you can marry a titled woman with that face?’ but she changed her mind.

A good idea had just occurred to her at the mention of men.

“Yes, that’s right. You’re the one who will inherit the family.”

Isabella’s eyes curved into a pretty smile.

“You also have the authority to decide your sisters’ marriages.”

“Of course! And Isabella, out of sibling affection, I will specially allow you to marry the man you want!”

“Really? I’ll hold you to that, brother.”

Ippolito looked at his sister with a dubious expression, unsettled by her sudden foxy demeanor.

His head knew she was pretty, but his heart just couldn’t agree.

That sly girl, with the cunning of three hundred foxes inside her, was just scary, no matter how lovely her shell.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? Behave yourself.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.”

Isabella’s voice became even more cloying.

“When you become the head of the family, if our dear sister Ariadne is still unmarried, you’ll have to find her a good match.”

Ippolito also realized what his own wicked sister was thinking.

A smile spread across Ippolito’s face as he understood why Isabella was in such a good mood.

“A daughter of the family cannot defy the head’s orders, can she?”

“Of course not. She wouldn’t have a word to say even if I locked her up in a convent.”

“And even if she begs to marry someone, it’s all for naught without the head’s permission.”

“Exactly. How could I carelessly let a daughter of the family out into the world when I don’t even know what kind of scoundrel the man she chose is? Without the head’s permission, a marriage is impossible, no matter how much they like each other.”

Isabella’s smile grew wider and wider.

“Brother, Ariadne is a bit… stubborn, you know.”

“She lives for herself, and doesn’t have a submissive bone in her body.”

“I think she needs to meet a man she can respect.”

Isabella’s face, smiling in satisfaction, looked as if a flower was about to bloom from it.

“So, what do you think about someone much older? About thirty years older would be good.”

Ippolito chimed in excitedly.

“It’s hard to find a decent bachelor among older men. A divorcé would be good. Even better if he has children. She can’t live too comfortably. She needs to face some hardships to mature and grow up, that wild thing.”

Isabella clapped her hands, a smile all over her face.

“Still. We have the de Mare family’s honor to consider. We can’t just send her off to any divorcé.”

“Right. The man has to have a high title and some wealth.”

Isabella felt like she was about to burst out laughing.

“I know just the person.”

“Who?”

“Marquis Campa.”

Ippolito made the same ridiculous face as Isabella.

“Ha, hahahahaha!”

It was Ippolito who couldn’t hold back his laughter first.

At her brother’s comical expression, Isabella too was soon overcome, her laughter bursting forth.

“Hahahahaha!”

After a long bout of roaring laughter, the siblings high-fived in the air.

—Slap!

“That’s my Isabella. You’ve got a sharp mind.”

“Well, the situation is just perfect.”

“We won’t have to send a dowry if we send her to Marquis Campa, right?”

“We should be the ones receiving a bride price.”

“Won’t Marquis Campa have a new wife by then?”

“What crazy woman would marry Marquis Campa? Even if she did…”

Isabella twirled a strand of her beautiful flaxen hair with her finger.

“She probably wouldn’t survive for long. By the time Ariadne goes to get married as an old maid, his third wife will probably be dead too.”

“The rumor that Prince Alfonso went to Gallico to get married is everywhere.”

“Isn’t that obvious? Why else would anyone send their son over the Prinoyat Mountains to a country like that if not to marry him off?”

“Then Ariadne is truly a kite with its string cut.”

Hearing Ippolito’s words, Isabella smiled in satisfaction. But Ippolito cautiously added.

“But surely… Count Cesare isn’t interested in her, is he?”

“What?”

Isabella’s brow furrowed at once. Her face, which had been like a peony, turned predatory.

“No, no, there were rumors like that at the masquerade ball. And Count Cesare is strangely nice to her, isn’t he? What if he proposes while Father is still around…”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

Isabella glared at her brother with blazing eyes.

“He was just checking her out because she was briefly famous in high society. There’s no way Count Cesare would do that!”

To choose a shabby, gloomy girl like that over someone as pretty and lovely as me.

Lately, voices praising Ariadne’s grace had grown loud in high society, but they never reached Isabella’s ears.

Even if she heard them, she ignored them.

“Even if that were true, I wouldn’t let it happen. It will never happen.”

Isabella’s eyes burned with anger and purpose.

She had always seen Count Cesare since they were children, at church and in society.

He wasn’t the legitimate prince, but if one were to name the prince of high society, it was undoubtedly Count Cesare.

And until now, the princess of high society had been Isabella de Mare. They were a match made in heaven. She couldn’t lose him.

That man is mine.