Chapter 225

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 225
Chapter Title: A Three-Way Confrontation (2)
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“The Marquis de Valdesal's son, I see.”

Cardinal de Mare greeted him first, his expression reluctant.

It was less a show of respect for the Marquis de Valdesal's son and more a desperate attempt to say something—anything—to bring order to the chaotic scene in the room.

“I haven’t seen you since you were a boy, have I? Please, have a seat over there.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Your Eminence.”

Despite being called a pale-faced fraud, Raphael’s bright smile never faltered as he took his seat.

Only Ippolito, who had been so swiftly disgraced, lowered his head, unsure of what to do.

Looking at the scene, one would be hard-pressed to tell who had hurled the insults and who had received them.

“Thank you for coming, Lord Valdesal.”

Ariadne bowed her head to Raphael in greeting. He smiled warmly and waved his hand dismissively.

“Since when have we been so formal with each other, Ari?”

Raphael replied, his eyes crinkling charmingly. Ariadne was slightly taken aback, but the other two men were even more unsettled.

Ippolito seethed, his suspicions confirmed.

*Just as I thought. That pretty boy must have decided to sell out his own academy classmate to curry favor with our family’s bastard.*

At Raphael de Valdesal’s confident remark, Cardinal de Mare’s mind began to race with calculations.

*Is this young man here to make his mark as a potential son-in-law?*

Ariadne quickly changed the subject to dispel the awkwardly suggestive atmosphere.

It was ridiculous to offer a serious explanation with Cardinal de Mare and Ippolito sitting before her. No, there was nothing to explain in the first place.

“Raphael, I’ve asked you here today—and I apologize for the impertinence—to inquire about what happened at the military academy in Padua.”

“Ah. You mean that incident.”

Raphael grinned, showing his teeth.

Ippolito chewed the inside of his cheek, trying not to show his anxiety. Ariadne posed her question.

“Have all the students of the 21st class at the Padua Military Academy graduated already?”

Cardinal de Mare’s eyes darted to Raphael. Ippolito’s pupils trembled.

Ignoring the heavy atmosphere, Raphael answered cheerfully.

“All those who were qualified have graduated.”

Ippolito finally bit his lip. Raphael continued without hesitation.

“As the president of the 21st class, I am well-informed. We had our graduation ceremony this past January, and the diplomas have all been conferred.”

Raphael glanced sideways at Ippolito with his red eyes.

“If there is any classmate who has yet to receive their diploma… it means they did not graduate.”

“…Young Valdesal.”

Before Ippolito could say a word, Cardinal de Mare interjected.

“Is the conferral of a diploma not different from its delivery?”

He was partly motivated by pity for his son, who stood speechless before Raphael de Valdesal, and partly by a desire to prevent the disgraceful scene of Ippolito suddenly exploding and shouting at a guest.

Raphael beamed.

“You are correct, Your Eminence.”

“If the diploma was simply lost in delivery…”

The Cardinal began, wanting to urge Ippolito to contact Padua immediately, retrieve his missing diploma, and put an end to this whole affair.

But the heir of House Valdesal shattered the de Mare patriarch’s hopes and dreams.

“A diploma that has already been conferred could certainly be lost in delivery. However, that is not the case for my dear classmate, Ippolito de Mare.”

Ippolito’s face turned crimson as he stared at the floor.

Given his temper, he should have roared, ‘What nonsense is this, Valdesal?!’ but he remained silent, unable to bear the revelations he knew would follow.

But despite Ippolito’s submission, Raphael showed no mercy. His bombshell announcement finally dropped.

“Ippolito did not take his final exams.”

The Cardinal stared at Ippolito in horror. Raphael’s exposé continued relentlessly.

“Naturally, he received no grades. He failed to meet not only the requirements for graduation but also for completion of his coursework.”

“I-Ippolito!”

A few of Ippolito’s excuses flashed through the Cardinal’s mind.

- “I organized a boycott of the academic schedule as the student representative. My entire department refused to take the final exams.”

- “I was supposed to graduate with honors and was even chosen by popular vote to give the commencement speech. Originally.”

- “Mother’s son couldn’t possibly sit in Padua and focus on his studies while his mother was in trouble.”

“Did you really not take the final exams?!”

Ippolito had claimed to have boycotted the exams, yet he never once mentioned having to return to Padua to take them, nor did he say they had been waived.

He had simply returned home, flirted with the maids, and then left for Taranto to enjoy the winter parties.

Ariadne asked Raphael, her eyes bright.

“Raphael, is it true that the city of Padua decided to levy a tax on the university, leading to a mass student boycott of the academic schedule?”

“Hahahaha!”

Raphael laughed heartily.

“It is true that such discussions took place. But university students these days are not what they used to be. There was some talk, but it fizzled out, and when the exam dates arrived, everyone quietly filed into the examination halls to take their finals.”

“…Ippolito.”

Cardinal de Mare called his son’s name sternly. It was a situation that warranted a full-throated roar of ‘I-PPO-LI-TO!!!’ but he suppressed it, mindful of their guest.

“Why on earth did you tell such a lie? Is it true you didn’t take the exams?”

His face flushed beet-red, Ippolito began to shed thick tears.

As the giant of a man, standing four piedi and two dito—about six feet tall—wept ceaselessly, he looked like an ox being led to the slaughter.

He mumbled his reply, like an ox chewing its cud.

“Mother… I missed Mother…”

He cast aside all semblance of dignity, ignoring the fact that Raphael was sitting right beside him, and began to plead tearfully with his father.

“At the time, Mother had been driven from the house and confined to the farm in Bergamo… Letters arrived from home every day, and I couldn’t focus on my studies…”

Cardinal de Mare was the only one he could cling to.

No matter what Raphael de Valdesal gossiped about in high society, no matter how that hateful girl Ariadne watched him with her glaring eyes, in the end, Ippolito’s fate would be decided by his father, and his father alone.

“I should have told you and Mother that I didn’t take the finals, but the atmosphere at home was so tense… I couldn’t bring myself to say it…”

Ippolito’s tears fell, dotting his luxurious purple satin trousers.

“…I, at least, had to be a son you could be proud of.”

Ippolito sobbed to his father.

“I’m sorry… I was wrong……. I’ll make it up somehow…”

Raphael wanted to add that Ippolito had been an incredibly delinquent student throughout his university life, that Dean Coraggio had been furious when he ignored the option to replace the final exams with a report, and that he had gained notoriety among the international students for smuggling tobacco. But Ippolito gave him no opening.

He was trembling like a pitiful ox, weeping continuously before his father.

“Father… I miss Mother… I long for her…”

And at that, the Cardinal, thinking of the late Lucrezia, felt his expression soften.

Lucrezia. She had been thoughtless and quick-tempered, but she was also affectionate and kind.

And in the end, she was the mother of his children.

Guilt was a powerful emotion.

“Ippolito… my son…”

The Cardinal took the hand of his son, who was sobbing like a sinner with his head bowed.

Ippolito was the precious son his late wife had left behind. The years they had spent together lived on in their child.

“Anyone can make a mistake. Mistakes have consequences, of course…”

Ippolito cried even more sorrowfully.

“But once you’ve paid the price, you can always try again.”

The study was descending into a melodrama between father and son. For an outsider like Raphael, it was a truly uncomfortable situation.

It was Ariadne’s calm, composed voice that brought the scene to a close.

“Raphael. Thank you for coming today.”

“It seems my part is done.”

“I apologize for not seeing you out.”

It was a dismissal.

“I will take my leave now.”

“Yes, if you stay any longer, we’ll be showing you too much of our family’s shame.”

Raphael thought with a light chuckle. *Shame? I think I’ve seen all there is to see.*

But the shame Ariadne spoke of was not Ippolito’s failure to graduate, nor the family’s grief over losing their beloved mother, Lucrezia.

“Father. I believe you need to meet our second guest.”

The Cardinal’s voice, which had been comforting the sobbing Ippolito, was finally tinged with irritation.

“Ariadne, that’s enough!”

Cardinal de Mare couldn’t contain his anger. He had praised his second daughter, but she seemed to have no sense of moderation.

“This is more than enough! How far do you intend to push your brother?!”

The Cardinal had always seen the world as a confrontation between the strong. The outside world was a place of endless competition.

Everyone clawed and bit for their own gain, stabbed others in the back, and that was simply the way of things.

But even in this filthy world, there was salvation: family. A family, and by extension, a house, had to protect its own.

Family was what you could trust your back to. It was something he, an orphan, had never had.

All his life, he had been intensely envious of those who had the protection of a family and a house, and he had desperately wanted to build such a fortress for his own generation.

And yet, this was the crop his children had yielded! One was incompetent, another extravagant, and the third stabbed her own family in the back!

“You are the worst of them all, Ariadne!”

The Cardinal lost his composure and began to point an accusatory finger.

“How did I raise you? How did I raise all of you! When I die, you’ll be all that’s left in this harsh world! You must help each other, not squabble like vultures over some petty gain! Do you have any idea how that will end?!”

*So I did end up hearing something I shouldn’t have.*

Raphael wondered if this was the family shame Ariadne had mentioned as he left Cardinal de Mare’s study.

He walked out of the room and down the hall, but the Cardinal’s roars still echoed through the slightly ajar door.

Just before the door clicked shut, Raphael realized he had been wrong.

“The person who caused Mother’s death was my brother, Ippolito.”

- *Click.*

* * *

Cardinal de Mare’s eyes widened. Ippolito’s tear-streaked face twisted in a grimace.

Ariadne stared coldly at them both.

When the father of the commoner girl Lucrezia had killed went on a rampage, it was Cardinal de Mare himself who had decided to kill Lucrezia before the entire family was dragged before the Royal Court.

And it was Ariadne herself who, knowing her father would change his mind, had personally brought the poison and forced it upon Lucrezia.

And yet now, she was saying the murderer was not Cardinal de Mare, who had made the decision, nor herself, who had placed the poison in Lucrezia’s hand and urged her to drink it, but Ippolito, whom Lucrezia had so terribly adored.

“…What are you talking about?”

The Cardinal asked, bewildered.

His daughter did not answer.

- *Knock, knock, knock.*

A knock sounded, and the door opened.

“Representative Caruso from Boccanegra has arrived.”

It was the second guest who had been waiting in the drawing room.

This man would provide the answer.