Chapter 178

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 178
Chapter Title: The Child Who Will Be Head of the House, and the One Who Won't
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“Sister. I am the acting mistress of this house.”

“Sister? Do you even think of me as your sister?”

As she slowly began to re-establish her position in society, Isabella was regaining her old vigor.

She wasn't quite where she used to be, but her attitude was quick to return.

“Let’s get this straight. You’re not the acting mistress, you’re just managing the finances. Do you really think you’re our mother or something?!”

“Don’t act so high and mighty with Father’s money.”

Ippolito, who had returned home with Isabella, also sided with his sister, his expression grim.

As loud voices echoed from the entrance hall, the servants began to creep out to watch the fight.

Ariadne was starting to find the situation irritating.

She thought she had thoroughly disciplined the servants, yet the moment the family raised their voices, they came running to prick up their ears and listen in. They were not properly trained.

She was even more concerned because there were guests in the house.

Surprisingly, she wasn't particularly annoyed by Isabella and Ippolito's behavior.

Just as a dog eats filth or a pig wallows in mud, the siblings were simply acting true to their nature.

“I am not your mother, but I have a duty to manage the household, inside and out, for the health and safety of its people.”

She spoke calmly, looking at Isabella and Ippolito.

“A plague is currently spreading in the southern regions, including Taranto. And it’s moving north. Almshouses are vulnerable to disease. We don’t know when or where an outbreak might occur. It is only right to refrain from going out for the time being, especially for volunteer work at an almshouse. Do not put the people of this house at risk.”

“The plague in Taranto? Taranto is over 280 miglio—nearly 500 kilometers—from here!”

Ippolito exclaimed, incredulous.

“You must have no sense of distance, girl, being cooped up in the house all the time. Do you have any idea how long it would take for a plague to travel from Taranto to San Carlo? You’re just looking for an excuse to pick a fight!”

Ariadne had once gathered and confirmed the speed of military movements during Cesare’s coup.

Ippolito’s taunt was simply laughable. She stared at the siblings without the slightest flicker of emotion.

“Do you… hate me that much…?”

Isabella, realizing the servants had gathered to watch, suddenly changed her tune and spoke in a frail voice.

She was backing up her brother.

“Pardon?”

It would be a lie to say she didn't hate her. But this wasn't about hate.

“After being so wrongfully accused, I’m finally finding my way back to a fulfilling life, and you want to interfere with that…?”

Ippolito added in a spiteful tone.

“That’s it, you’re trying to check Isabella now that she’s becoming friends with Countess Balzo, aren’t you!”

Countess Balzo had carved out a respectable position for herself in San Carlo, but she wasn't a connection Ariadne desperately needed.

She scoffed.

“They say you see in others what you are yourself. Is that the only way your minds can work, brother, sister? This is genuinely a matter of safety. Please understand that and refrain from going out.”

Ariadne called for the butler, Niccolo, who was waiting nearby.

“Niccolo.”

“Yes, Young Lady.”

“For the next month, do not provide horses or a carriage for my sister Isabella or my brother Ippolito.”

Isabella and Ippolito erupted in anger simultaneously.

“What did you say?”

“Are you kidding me?!”

Ariadne looked at them calmly.

“My sister is right. I am not your mother or your elder, so I cannot forbid you from going out or kick you out of the house.”

She said, her voice steady.

“So I will do what I can. You will not be able to use the horses and carriages. If you must go out, you may walk.”

No great noble in San Carlo would ever leave their house on their own two feet.

“Hey! Hey!”

Ariadne turned to return to the drawing room where her guests were waiting.

But at that moment, Ippolito stuck out his foot, blocking her path.

“You little wench, do you think you can get away with this insolence?”

He looked ready to strike her. Ariadne glanced around.

Her personal guard, Giuseppe, looked ready to draw his sword and lunge at Ippolito at any moment, but most of the others, including Niccolo the butler, wavered, caught between the current power and the future master.

If Giuseppe were to draw his sword in the house and subdue Ippolito—and it was questionable if he even could, given Ippolito's considerable athleticism—the aftermath would be severe.

Ariadne looked at Ippolito coldly.

He seemed to take her pause as a sign of his own authority, and said with a smug sneer.

“You’re just managing my family’s affairs for me, you little pipsqueak.”

Isabella peeked out from behind Ippolito’s back, her eyes full of glee as she watched Ariadne.

“When Father dies and I inherit this house, do you think I’ll let you be? What? Did you say not to give Lord Ippolito a horse?”

He threatened his half-sister, raising his fist as if to strike her.

“You impudent thing. You’d better watch yourself before I marry you off as the second wife to some old nobleman.”

Ippolito added.

“Seems like things with your prince are over anyway.”

From behind him, the sound of Isabella’s faint laughter could be heard.

Just then, a stern voice cut through the air.

“What’s this about what happens to your father?”

It was Cardinal de Mare. He strode into the house, dressed in his cardinal’s vestments.

“Ah, Father!”

Startled, Ippolito immediately lowered his threatening fist and hid it behind his back.

“You’ve returned early.”

Isabella also put on a meek expression, tucking her tail between her legs in front of her father.

“You usually don’t return from the San Ercole Cathedral until after sunset, so we thought you would be late today as well.”

“I was at the royal palace today, not the cathedral.”

The Cardinal was returning from a discussion with Marquis Valdesal.

And he had returned home in a rather foul mood.

“This damned house is never quiet!”

Isabella did not miss her father’s lament.

“It’s all Ariadne’s fault!”

The Cardinal narrowed his eyes at his eldest daughter. He was beginning to realize it himself.

Most of the trouble in this house was caused not by his second daughter, but by his eldest.

Isabella noticed her father wasn't looking at her favorably, but she also sensed he was willing to listen.

“She’s only been put in charge of the household, but she acts as if she’s our mother!”

“Father, she told us not to go out!”

Selective quoting and distortion were the siblings’ specialty. Ariadne didn’t even feel the need to explain herself.

*Ugh, I wish those people would just fall into a hole and disappear.*

But Cardinal de Mare looked at Ariadne, his expression demanding an explanation. She finally, reluctantly, opened her mouth.

“How could I dare do such a thing? I know better than anyone that I do not have that authority.”

“Then what is this all about?”

“Are you aware that Brother Ippolito and Sister Isabella have been doing volunteer work recently?”

This was the first Cardinal de Mare had heard of it. He looked at his eldest son and daughter with an expression that said, *What’s gotten into you two?*

“A plague has been spreading from the south lately. Its northward advance is slow, but its momentum is concerning.”

“Hmm.”

He had heard about this.

Bishops and priests from the southern dioceses were clamoring, pleading for aid from San Carlo.

“Plagues tend to start in the slums. It is my judgment that it is reasonable to secure the house, inside and out, and prohibit entry to dangerous places for the time being.”

“So, did you try to persuade Ippolito and Isabella nicely that it would be better not to go to the slums?”

Ariadne was momentarily at a loss for words and just stared at the Cardinal.

“…I did, at first.”

“Don’t lie!”

Isabella’s sharp voice pierced the hall’s high ceiling.

“You came right out and told me, ‘You should stop your volunteer work’!”

Ippolito seized the opportunity to add to his sister’s tale. Isabella immediately embellished it.

It was only at times like these that the siblings worked in perfect harmony.

“And when we asked, ‘What gives you the right to decide that?’, she told the butler not to allow Brother Ippolito and Sister Isabella to use the house’s horses and carriages!”

“A maid’s whelp who doesn’t know her place!”

Ippolito fumed. Cardinal de Mare clicked his tongue. He could picture exactly what had happened.

“Ariadne.”

“…Yes.”

“Your judgment is good. Beyond your years.”

There was surely more to come.

“But.”

*Of course.*

“You are too forceful. It is like watching a battering ram.”

“…”

“A young girl must learn gentleness as she becomes a woman. Only then can she become the mother of a household, of a family, lead her people with virtue, and properly support her husband, her lord.”

It was one of the first life lessons Cardinal de Mare had ever given Ariadne.

And he was telling her to cultivate a womanly gentleness.

This was completely different from the lessons he had doted on Isabella with in her past life.

Was it because of their different temperaments, their father’s different expectations for his two daughters, or was it simply discrimination?

After reprimanding Ariadne, the Cardinal looked at Ippolito and Isabella.

“However. Ariadne’s words may have been harsh, but they were not wrong.”

“Father!”

“Father!”

“Ippolito, Isabella. Refrain from visiting the slums for the time being. It is forbidden until we hear that the plague has subsided.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

Isabella protested, her face flushing red.

“I have to continue the volunteer work to maintain my friendship with Countess Balzo!”

Cardinal de Mare inwardly clicked his tongue. *Of course.*

His eldest daughter would never volunteer in the slums for nothing.

“What about my position in society! This was such a hard-won opportunity! If I can’t marry into a good family, it will all be that wench Ariadne’s fault!”

“And who was it that ruined your position in society? How can you blame others for the mess you made of it?”

At Cardinal de Mare’s mention of Marquis Campa, Isabella’s eyes immediately welled with tears.

But Cardinal de Mare spoke coldly.

“I can see now why your sister said what she did.”

“…*Hic*!”

Isabella finally burst into tears and looked at Cardinal de Mare.

“Father… You’re so cruel…!”

She fled up the central staircase to her room on the second floor.

With Isabella gone, Ippolito glared fiercely at Ariadne and started to follow.

“Ippolito.”

Cardinal de Mare’s weary voice stopped him.

“…Yes, Your Eminence.”

It was Ippolito’s petty act of defiance. The Cardinal understood it instantly.

He sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and said to his son.

“You are the child who will one day be the head of this house. You must think carefully, act properly, and be kind to your family.”

*What is this, some kind of lecture from a saint?* The thought was written all over Ippolito’s face.

The Cardinal sighed deeply and elaborated for his son.

“And the family you must treat well includes your younger sister.”

“…”

“I do not want to see you raise your fist or act like this in my house ever again. Do you understand?”

“…Yes, Father.”

“Then you may go.”

The Cardinal shook his head and dismissed his son.

He actually had something he wanted to discuss with his eldest.

Although the boy was still too young to be formally involved in politics, hearing such things from a young age would prevent him from acting rashly when he eventually had to handle important matters.

But if he were to drag the boy, who was currently acting up like a wild child, into his study for a talk, Ippolito would just dismiss it as some uninteresting story or an adult's nagging.

“Ariadne, you will follow me for a moment. I need a glass of grappa.”