Chapter 227

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 227
Chapter Title: No Perfect Children
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Cardinal de Mare and everyone else stared, wide-eyed, at the dock worker.

He scratched the back of his neck, awkward under the attention, and spoke.

“The order was so peculiar, I remember it well.”

He was one of the vagrants Ippolito had contacted through a friend who smuggled tobacco.

Ippolito paid little mind to those beneath him, but the vagrant remembered Ippolito distinctly.

“Plenty of folks ask for someone to be killed, but you don't get many requests to cut off the head and leave it at a fish market... Usually, it's just 'dump the body in the river,' 'leave it on the outskirts,' or 'make sure you don't get caught.' Oh, and I remember him because he was smoking his pipe like a chimney, even indoors.”

Ariadne scoffed inwardly. *So like Ippolito.* He mistook her smile for something else and made an excuse.

“Ah, everyone smokes indoors where I'm from, but pipes are a bit old-fashioned. Most people smoke rolled cigarettes these days.”

Ippolito’s face turned red as he pointed a finger at the dock worker.

“It's slander!”

He was on the verge of lunging at the grimy man.

Barely restraining himself, knowing he couldn't show the disgrace of throwing a punch in front of his father, Ippolito turned to Cardinal de Mare and pleaded.

“Father! The story that Mother asked for a dead maid’s head to be cut off and left at a fish market is a rumor that spread throughout the capital! Anyone who knows that story could have just made this up!”

“You know, the young master is quite famous, right?”

Frowning at this unfamiliar tale, the Cardinal turned back to the dock worker.

“What was that?”

Having gained the attention of a great noble, the dock worker became slightly excited and began to chatter.

“We sell a bit of that, uh, leaf. Tobacco.”

He began to explain what tobacco was with animated gestures, curling his fingers into a circle.

“You pack it in a pipe or roll it up, and when you smoke it—ah!—it feels like it clears your head right to the top! Rolled is more popular than pipes these days, though—”

The Cardinal waved his hand in annoyance.

He had no need to know the details of the life-ruining drug that was popular among the lower classes.

“Get to the point.”

“Young Master de Mare is a well-known distributor, so his name is famous among us.”

“Hack!”

The Cardinal choked and broke into a fit of coughing.

“Hack, hack!”

Ariadne quickly handed him a glass of water.

The Cardinal downed the water in a single gulp, then let out a belch that seemed to rise from the very bottom of his lungs.

“What—?! Ippolito is a distributor?!”

Slightly startled by the Cardinal’s vehement reaction, the dock worker waved his hands dismissively.

“Ah, it’s not like he’s a huge dealer or anything, but they say all the product traded among the students from the north has to go through Young Master de Mare...”

“I sent you there to study!”

The dock worker's helpful explanation was cut short by the Cardinal's roar.

“Have you lost your mind?!”

The Caruso representative, observing the situation, found it fascinating that the father was more shocked by his son being a tobacco distributor than a murderer, but he dared not let it show.

*He’s a clergyman, after all. The Holy See teaches that any mood-altering substance is harmful.*

*Wait, isn't that a liquor bottle on the cabinet? And hold on a minute. The holy scriptures teach that murder is wrong, too, not just harmful substances.*

While even the astute Caruso representative was thrown into confusion by the de Mare family's educational principles, Ariadne, accustomed to such contradictions, quickly steered the conversation.

“So, you're saying my brother, Ippolito, personally sought out a contract killer and ordered Maletta's murder?”

“Ah, we're not exactly contract killers.”

The dock worker waved his hands as he spoke.

“We mostly do 'trade,' and just take the occasional special request when it comes in. Something like that. We don't take jobs from just anyone! Only from regular customers who ask for a favor!”

Ariadne had heard what she wanted to hear. A faint smile played on her lips as she asked.

“So one needs a connection. Then it must have been quite difficult for my mother, an ordinary noblewoman, to contact your people.”

He nodded eagerly.

“We'd have no reason to meet a noble lady. We deal in tobacco, liquor, things like that. We have nothing to do with the luxury goods that ladies use.”

“So, in the end, my brother was the one who orchestrated it all? Maletta's murder?”

That was not a question the dock worker could answer.

Nor did Ariadne expect him to.

She simply turned, her gaze shifting between Cardinal de Mare and Ippolito.

“My brother Ippolito orchestrated Maletta's murder, yet when you, Father, decided to hold Mother responsible as the situation escalated, he didn't say a single word to defend her. He just let her take all the blame.”

Cardinal de Mare's goatee trembled. Ariadne pressed on.

“Mother didn't even know why she was dying.”

Ariadne’s calm, cool green eyes swept over Cardinal de Mare.

“And she certainly didn't know her own son had framed her. You never asked her what happened either, did you, Father?”

It was true. Since the black magic incident, Cardinal de Mare hadn't had a proper conversation with Lucrezia.

He had assumed it would be pointless.

At that, the Cardinal felt a pang of regret.

*If only I had asked Lucrezia back then...*

The thought flashed through his mind for a fleeting, subconscious moment. But the very idea was agonizing to entertain.

To think that way would make Lucrezia's death his fault.

Not the fault of Lucrezia's recklessness, nor Ippolito's shamelessness.

Cardinal de Mare shook his head violently. Logically, it was the only conclusion.

But emotionally, he could not accept it.

He wanted to think of something else. His second daughter's sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

“Are you even human? When Father proposed killing Mother, you knew it was your doing, not hers!”

“Shut up!!”

His eldest son reacted harshly.

“You don't know anything, so shut your mouth!!”

Ippolito raised his voice to its maximum decibel, letting out the loudest shout he could muster.

His plan was to win with volume what he couldn't win with logic.

His son screamed hysterically.

“Shut up, I said shut up!! Shut your trap!!”

His head began to throb endlessly. He couldn't bear to see any of it.

Neither of his children seemed to have any understanding of their father's feelings.

His second daughter shrieked.

“Mother doted on you so much! How could you backstab your own mother, who cherished you like that? You murderer!”

“You're asking to die!!!”

Ippolito raised his hand and advanced on Ariadne. Ariadne cried out.

“Don't come near me!”

“You won't know your place until you've been hit!”

“Everyone, stop it!!!!!”

The Cardinal roared. The study fell silent in an instant. But the Cardinal, unable to contain his anger, continued to shout.

“Enough!!! All of you, get out!! Get out!!! I can't stand the sight of any of you!!!”

He looked from Ippolito to Ariadne and pointed toward the study door.

“Both of you, out.”

He didn't even glance at the Caruso representative and his henchman, but the two men knew to quietly gather themselves and move toward the door.

Seething with rage, Ippolito was the first to leave, slamming the door behind him. The two guests followed.

The last one left in the room, Ariadne stared at Cardinal de Mare with venomous eyes.

Cardinal de Mare glared back at her. *I wish you would disappear from my sight!*

But his second daughter, so much like him, would not let her father off so easily.

“Father. You said the head of the house is one who cares for his family.”

A bitter smile touched her lips.

“Are you truly planning to hand the hilt of the sword to a son who would stab his own mother in the back?”

The Cardinal's green eyes darkened.

- *Click.*

As his second daughter also left, only silence remained in the Cardinal's study.

* * *

When Ariadne emerged into the hallway, Ippolito had already stomped away from the east wing where their father's study was located.

Only the Caruso representative and the vagrant he had brought with him stood there awkwardly, waiting for Ariadne.

She smiled at the Caruso representative.

Not everything had gone smoothly, but such is life; things rarely go perfectly according to plan.

She felt she had conveyed the essential message.

“Thank you for your hard work today.”

The Caruso representative, who had made a good sum of money thanks to her, replied respectfully.

“Not at all. It was my duty to serve you, my lady. Besides, I did nothing. This fellow did all the work.”

The Caruso representative gestured toward the vagrant with his chin. Ariadne's smile deepened slightly.

“You heard His Eminence the Cardinal.”

She said to the vagrant.

“I would appreciate it if you didn't speak to anyone about what happened today.”

Ariadne took a pouch filled with a handful of gold coins from her dress and handed it to him.

“This is for your trouble today. Be careful on your way back.”

Ariadne exchanged a nod with the Caruso representative and slowly returned to her room.

In truth, to really silence the vagrant, she should have had him killed.

Even if she wanted to handle it more humanely, she should have at least made him leave San Carlo.

It was obvious what men like him would do.

He would go to a tavern by the docks and boastfully recount the day's events like a war story, thrilled to have witnessed the shame of a great noble.

However, Ariadne's interests did not necessarily align with the Cardinal's.

*What's so bad about a rumor spreading that Ippolito de Mare killed his own child in a maid's womb, betrayed his mother, and had her killed for his crime?*

It wasn't even an unfair rumor, was it?

At that thought, she let out a small laugh. She had to admit it: her father was a good judge of character.

Such a rumor spreading far and wide would damage the family's reputation.

But she had no affection for the "de Mare family" itself.

Still, Cardinal de Mare needed to understand. He never had many options to begin with.

He had only a cuckoo's chick for a false eldest son, an eldest daughter obsessed with adornments and luxury, and a second daughter who was quick with calculations and shrewd in her pursuits but loved no one in her family.

*Would Father have been more receptive today if I had revealed that Ippolito isn't his son?*

Ariadne considered it for a moment, but then shook her head.

Cardinal de Mare was not a man to believe claims without evidence.

It was better to gather evidence quietly and meticulously for a single, decisive blow than to speak prematurely, giving the foolish Ippolito time to prepare or ruining the impression the Cardinal had of her.

*...Provided the title doesn't go to Ippolito personally.*

If Ippolito received the title, it would be difficult for Cardinal de Mare to cast aside his false son.

Ariadne shook her head again, more forcefully this time. Worrying about a future that hadn't happened yet would only give her a headache.

She was slowly learning how to endure the burden.

*If Ippolito receives the title, should I just throw myself into a convent?*

If I entered while Cardinal de Mare was still alive, I could probably secure the position of abbess.

Her naturally overthinking nature was hard to shake, even when she tried. She let out a soft sigh.

But of one thing, Ariadne was certain.

Her father's state of mind was likely the same as her own right now.

*Father. Make a wise decision.*

* * *

A week passed. The household was on thin ice. It seemed determined to follow the steadily dropping temperature outside.

No one spoke to each other. Cardinal de Mare had sequestered himself in his quarters, even taking his meals there separately.

Ippolito and Isabella, who despised running into Ariadne, came down at different times to avoid her.

Aside from the kitchen staff at the de Mare estate being forced to prepare two separate meals, the days were peaceful.

What broke the family's routine was a messenger from the royal palace.

“A decree from His Majesty the King has arrived!”

Ariadne’s green eyes lit up. The Cardinal, who had been holed up on the second floor, rushed out of his study.

Only Ippolito and Isabella, completely in the dark, came down to the first-floor landing and whispered to each other.

“What's this about?”

“I don't know. Did we do something wrong?”

Ariadne thought to herself.

*It's the title, you idiots.*

The question was, who would receive it?