Chapter 179

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 179
Chapter Title: The Diploma
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The Cardinal summoning his younger daughter to the study instead of his eldest son was somewhat impromptu.

He was in the mood for a chat, and his son was in no state to be a conversational partner.

But his younger daughter was right there.

The Cardinal sat down and poured just enough grappa from the bar to cover the bottom of a wide glass, holding it in his hand.

Had his eldest son been sitting before him, he would have poured two glasses, but it felt awkward to offer such a strong spirit to his younger daughter.

Ariadne skillfully handed her father a glass of lukewarm water.

It was a gesture honed from attending to Prince Regent Cesare's day drinking.

*Where did my young daughter learn such a thing?* the Cardinal wondered as he diluted the strong liquor with the lukewarm water.

“The King has decided not to sponsor the Third Crusade.”

The Cardinal muttered a small curse, ‘The cheapskate,’ and took a sip of his grappa.

Ariadne’s eyes widened.

“Then what does he intend to do about the heavy cavalry at the border?”

“Who knows. And it's not just the heavy cavalry. I hear the infantry is being reinforced now as well.”

Ariadne's expression hardened. This was not good.

“So, is he relying solely on Prince Alfonso's diplomatic skills in the Kingdom of Gallico?”

“Unless the Marquis de Valdesal has some brilliant new plan at Palazzo Carlo that he's keeping secret from me, that would be the case.”

The Cardinal shook his head.

“As I see it, there's no way out of this. I don't know what the King is thinking.”

While the Cardinal lamented the state of the kingdom, resorting to drinking in broad daylight, Ariadne carefully considered the differences from her past life.

In her previous life, Leo III had summoned Cardinal de Mare to ask for help about half a year later than this.

By then, Philip IV had already paid most of the gold for the Third Crusade.

That was why Pope Ludovico had been able to completely change his tune and pressure Philip IV, and in return for moving the Holy See, Cardinal de Mare had been able to push Isabella in as the Crown Princess.

*‘But this time, that's impossible.’*

The opportunity for Ariadne to easily become the Crown Princess was also gone. Her stomach churned.

She longed for a sip of the strong liquor her father was drinking.

A single glass of alcohol, burning its way down her throat and stinging her brain, would let her sleep without a single thought.

*‘The only thing that's better in this life compared to the last is that the Gaeta region remains fully within the Kingdom of Etruscan...’*

In that moment, a cluster of light scattered at the tips of Ariadne's right hand, emitting a diamond-like brilliance.

It was as if fireflies were dancing on her fingernails.

She subconsciously glanced at the Cardinal, but he seemed completely oblivious to the shimmer.

*‘What, are you telling me I did a good job?’*

The cluster of light offered no reply.

As Ariadne was thinking about the Golden Rule, the Cardinal's lament suddenly struck her ears.

“Where in the world did all the taxes he collected go?”

“Was there a surplus of tax revenue?”

Ariadne responded mechanically to her father's grumbling.

It must have sounded natural enough, because Cardinal de Mare launched into a tirade.

“If there's no surplus after collecting so much, is he even a proper statesman? It's been over fifteen years since he started scraping every last coin from the nobles, and recently, as if that wasn't enough, he's started trying to sneakily impose indirect taxes on monasteries and churches!”

"Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's." Under this principle from the *Meditations*, the church's property was not taxed on the central continent.

Or rather, they didn't dare tax it.

No king had the courage to defy the formidable Holy See and the Pope to see what might happen to him.

But Leo III, like a yapping puppy, circled the edges, attempting to circumvent the principle of tax exemption for church property.

He would impose high taxes on sericulture, a common source of supplementary income for monasteries as well as common households, or create new taxes on things even the church had to use, such as a 'well tax'.

“Anyway, I've never seen such a miser. Does he plan to take his ducats with him in his coffin? Tsk.”

Downing the rest of his grappa in one go, Cardinal de Mare looked at his daughter.

“Right, you have guests.”

Ariadne gave a bitter smile. *Took you long enough to ask.*

“Yes.”

“Hurry and see to them. I've been rude.”

“Then I will take my leave.”

* * *

“You're here, Ariadne.”

The guests waiting in the de Mare family's drawing room were the Valdesal siblings.

As it happened, they had overheard the entire scuffle that had taken place in the foyer.

“...My apologies for the discourtesy.”

Ariadne bowed her head with an apologetic expression as she entered the drawing room.

Her slumped shoulders were a pitiful sight.

Her nod was an apology for leaving her guests waiting for so long, but it could be read in several other ways.

“Not at all. It was quite a spectacle.”

Raphael replied with a broad smile.

“His Eminence the Cardinal's love for his children is truly remarkable.”

Giulia stomped on her brother's foot.

- “Brother, stop!”

But Raphael was unabashed.

“What, did I say something I shouldn't have? Tell me, Ariadne. Are we not close enough to talk about such things?”

Ariadne smiled bitterly.

Emotionally, she sided more with Giulia, but after they had seen everything, there was no point in being reserved.

It would be better to just get it all out in the open and feel some relief.

“You're right, my father's love for his children is remarkable. Especially his love for his eldest son. If it were me, I would have broken his legs and thrown him out.”

“It seems we are in agreement.”

Raphael smiled and held out a finger.

Thinking he wanted her to do the same, Ariadne also extended her index finger.

Raphael touched their index fingers together, tip to tip, as if in greeting.

“And I'm sure we're not in the minority.”

“Honestly, if it were our family, Signor Ippolito would have been kicked out by our father.”

It was ambiguous whether Giulia, by adding the unfitting honorific before Ippolito's name, was trying to praise her friend's brother or put him down by saying he'd be kicked out of her family.

It was a conflict between wanting to curse him and not wanting to badmouth her friend's brother.

“Causing all that trouble at the university and then returning to San Carlo... if I had done that, my father would have truly disowned me.”

“...What? Did Ippolito do something in Padua as well?”

This time, it was Raphael's turn to be surprised.

“You didn't know? Does your father not know either?”

Ariadne could only blink.

“What happened? I certainly don't know.”

“Good heavens.”

Raphael clapped his hands gleefully.

“Ippolito de Mare fled the University of Padua without taking his final exams. The Dean of Military Studies gave him two chances to take a makeup exam, and when Ippolito struggled with even that, he was offered the chance to substitute it with a report after supplemental classes, but he disappeared without showing up for the classes.”

“What?”

*Does that mean he didn't graduate...?*

“Dean Greco came to the classroom during the break and waited all day for Ippolito.”

Ariadne shook her head.

The story was unbelievable, yet it was exactly the kind of trouble Ippolito would cause.

“After waiting in an empty classroom for six hours, his face turned beet red and he supposedly shouted, 'That boy is beyond redemption!'”

“Waiting six hours during the break... he's a true educator...”

Giulia clicked her tongue in amazement.

Ariadne relayed the version of the story she knew from home.

“My brother claimed that he, as the student representative, led a protest to boycott the final exams, so the finals were removed from the academic schedule entirely...”

“Hahahaha!”

Raphael roared with laughter upon hearing Ariadne's story.

“He really said that?”

“And he said he was supposed to give the graduation speech... that it was decided by a popularity vote.”

“Good heavens.”

Raphael slapped his forehead.

“That anecdote certainly reveals Ippolito's hopes and dreams in stark detail.”

“...It's all a lie? He was just describing what he wants to be?”

Giulia asked from the side.

“He has some semblance of a conscience, I suppose. He recited all his wishes, but at least he altered them slightly to fit reality.”

Raphael said, looking at Ariadne.

“The graduation speech is traditionally given by the valedictorian.”

Ariadne let out a hollow laugh.

“I suppose his conscience pricked him too much to lie about being the valedictorian.”

“If my brother... claimed he was good at his studies, our parents would have been the first to doubt him.”

No matter how much Cardinal de Mare and the late Lucrezia doted on Ippolito, they had at least the minimal ability to discern the truth.

You can believe your son is good at heart even if he runs around like a scoundrel, but it's difficult to do so when it comes to matters with quantifiable results.

A lie needs to be mixed with seventy percent truth to be convincing, and it loses its power in the face of clear evidence.

“So, Ippolito didn't graduate?”

“Correct. He didn't complete his credits, so he's not even a graduate... Let's see. He's probably been expelled by now, so perhaps a dropout?”

Ariadne asked Raphael de Valdesal.

“This is an embarrassing request, but...”

*This must look like I have no sibling affection. Won't he think I'm a scheming woman trying to backstab my own brother?*

“Could you possibly look into what my brother's academic status is right now?”

But Ariadne's worries were completely unfounded. Raphael's face lit up as he asked back.

“When do you need to know by?”

*Ariadne de Mare has asked me for a favor. I will see it done, no matter what.*

“It's not extremely urgent...”

“I will find out as quickly as possible.”

Raphael added.

“Oh, for your reference, the diplomas have already been issued to all graduates. Ippolito probably doesn't have one.”

Ariadne smiled.

“Thank you.”

Raphael instantly understood why Ariadne was looking for Ippolito's academic records.

And he had perfectly placed in her hands the information she would need to counter any lies Ippolito might tell before he returned.

*Raphael de Valdesal, he's a very competent friend.*

* * *

Leaving Ariadne's drawing room, the Valdesal siblings walked down the corridor, talking quietly.

“That's not like you, brother. What's gotten into you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You hate troublesome things more than anything in the world. This is the first time I've seen you offer to do something for someone.”

Raphael was lost in other thoughts and didn't quite hear his sister.

Instead, he blurted out the thought that was rolling around in his head.

“You know, maybe I should have mentioned that I was the valedictorian.”

“What?”

“It's just so funny that Ippolito de Mare is strutting around claiming he was supposed to give the speech. I was the valedictorian. I gave the representative speech.”

“Why is this coming up all of a sudden? Don't tell me you've been agonizing over this the whole time.”

“If I had said, 'Well, I was the valedictorian,' I would have sounded so arrogant. Right?”

Giulia was about to scold her brother for his absurd train of thought, but she decided to be generous and give him the answer he wanted to hear.

It was an insult, after all.

“It would have been a bit obnoxious. Even for you, that would have been pushing it.”

“Right, I knew it was a good idea to keep my mouth shut...”

- *Thump!*

Raphael, who hadn't been watching where he was going while talking to Giulia, bumped shoulders with someone coming from the opposite direction.

“Ah!”

“Eek!”

The person he collided with was larger and more long-limbed than the slender Raphael.

Giulia, who nearly crashed into her brother when he stopped so suddenly, cried out in surprise.

Wrapping a protective arm around his sister's shoulders, Raphael glared fiercely at the man before them.

“Watch where you're going.”

The man opposite him replied just as fiercely.

“What are you doing in my house?”

It was Ippolito de Mare.