Chapter 230

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 230
Chapter Title: The Secret of the Rambouillet Almshouse
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While Ippolito and Isabella wasted time on baseless conspiracy theories and venting their frustrations, Ariadne decided to make use of her new title.

She had arrived for her first day of work at the Rambouillet Almshouse.

“Lady de Mare… No, you are the Director now.”

Mr. Albani, the almshouse’s Secretary-General, bowed respectfully before Ariadne. Ariadne smiled.

“Things do turn out this way, don’t they?”

Secretary-General Albani replied smoothly.

“It is as it should be. It feels as though everything has fallen into its rightful place.”

Secretary-General Albani was a man well-versed in pleasing high-ranking patrons.

Ariadne laughed off his flattery.

Noticing her looking around, Secretary-General Albani asked.

“Are you looking for your office?”

Ariadne smiled.

“How did you know?”

“It’s only human nature for one to look for their own office first at their place of work.”

Ariadne tilted her head.

“But wasn't the previous director the late queen, who held the position concurrently? Did Her Majesty have a separate workspace at the almshouse?”

Queen Marguerite rarely left the royal palace.

She occasionally came for inspections, but it was more of a tour than a permanent post from which she handled her duties.

Beyond her personal preference for familiar and comfortable places, it would have been unsuitable, if only for the matter of the queen's security.

Given the late queen's character, which rejected extravagance, it was plausible she hadn't kept an office here at all.

But Secretary-General Albani gave an ambiguous smile.

“You believe she did not have one, don't you? You are mistaken. The queen's office does exist.”

However, he seemed somewhat reluctant to lead her there right away.

*Is he hesitant to give it to me because it was the queen’s space?* Ariadne wondered as she gazed at him.

“Is there a problem?”

At her question, he shook his head and replied.

“No, not at all. I was merely concerned that it might not have been fully cleaned. Please, follow me.”

The director's office, which Secretary-General Albani led her to, was strangely located in a corner on the top floor of the building.

She had expected it to be luxurious, as it was used by Her Majesty the Queen, but it was nothing of the sort.

Other than a dark green carpet on the floor and a large tapestry that covered an entire wall, the very large room was devoid of any decoration.

Contrary to Secretary-General Albani's excuse that it was "not fully cleaned," the empty room was impeccably clean.

However, something felt slightly off. The structure of the space was wrong.

“This is it.”

Secretary-General Albani led her to a massive desk set against one wall.

Beside it was a chair identical to the wing chair Queen Marguerite had favored in her chambers at the royal palace.

For a moment, Ariadne felt a surge of emotion, as if she could feel the queen’s warmth.

It seemed Secretary-General Albani was also reminiscing about the late queen. He spoke with a fond expression.

“This room doesn't heat well, so whenever Her Majesty was due to visit, we would bring in a slew of braziers the day before.”

“There’s no fireplace. She was very sensitive to the cold.”

“That’s right. There wasn't a suitable space for a fireplace. It was something she truly needed.”

At his words, Ariadne scanned the room again.

The room itself was so large that installing a fireplace wouldn't have been a problem, but she couldn't see a wall that could connect to a chimney.

*Doesn't this room take up most of the top floor? Why is there no wall connected to a chimney?*

The wall with the tapestry, opposite the desk, began in the middle of a window. In other words, the last window was only half a window.

*Why was it built like this?*

But an ugly building was not the pressing issue.

It was an almshouse, not a palace, after all. Ariadne said to Secretary-General Albani.

“Would you bring me the management ledgers?”

“Pardon?”

“Until now, I’ve been providing emergency grain without knowing the detailed financial situation of the Rambouillet Almshouse.”

The Secretary-General could only nod.

Ariadne had truly been a generous patron, one who gave without a hint of fuss.

“Now I need to grasp the details and overhaul the structure to make it sustainable in the long term.”

Ariadne planned to transform the Rambouillet nursing corps into a profitable organization.

She had made a large sum of money at once by taking advantage of the plague, but she did not run a merchant guild on a regular basis.

Someone had to earn money for the system of feeding and clothing those unable to work to be sustainable.

Unable to find any excuse to refuse, Secretary-General Albani went out and returned with a large stack of ledgers. His expression was a bit dark.

*Has he grown uncomfortable now that a watchful eye has fallen upon him after doing as he pleased all this time? Did he embezzle some small things?*

Ariadne found his demeanor suspicious.

But she would soon find out once she examined the ledgers and inspected the storehouses.

After placing the stack of ledgers, which reached his chin, on Ariadne's desk, Secretary-General Albani spoke.

“Um… Director, what are your thoughts on the late queen?”

“The late queen?”

Ariadne turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden topic. She gave a standard reply.

“I believe she was a good person. An excellent mother to the nation. It was a tragedy that she passed away.”

It was high praise, but also a perfectly diplomatic platitude.

With the possible exception of Duchess Rubina, no one could hear it and feel offended or find fault.

Ultimately failing to discern Ariadne’s true feelings from her answer, Secretary-General Albani replied.

“I see…”

He dusted off the ledgers and said.

“Here you are, ten years’ worth of ledgers. There should be no missing records. If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to call for me.”

“Thank you.”

After dismissing Secretary-General Albani, Ariadne opened the ledger for the most recent year.

As Ariadne meticulously traced the entries with the end of her quill, reviewing about half a year’s worth, a deep frown creased her brow.

“The purchase history… Why did they buy this for this price?”

There were no issues in the last six months of records. But as she went back to the first half of the year, strange purchases began to appear.

“Forty rotolos of turnip seedlings for twenty ducats? It’s strange enough to buy turnips, but if you were going to, you’d buy seeds. Who buys seedlings to grow turnips? And why this price for seedlings? Are they made of gold? This is literally the price of gold.”

Turnips were a typical famine relief crop.

Even at the almshouse, they weren't used as a staple food, only to get through a few days during the lean season.

As such, they never spent much money on them, simply sowing seeds saved from the previous year in a vegetable patch and having the almshouse residents harvest them.

But looking at the records, this was not an isolated incident.

The linen purchased for the almshouse’s poor was bought at the price of satin.

There was also a purchase record for 300 beds, each an ultra-luxurious item costing 15 ducats.

*There’s no way such beds are here!*

Ariadne clearly remembered sleeping on a mattress she had made herself by gathering straw when she was banished to the Rambouillet Almshouse under the pretext of volunteering early in her regression.

It was inconceivable that expensive beds would be given to the poor instead of being placed in guest rooms, so this had to be a fabricated entry.

*Someone… has been embezzling?*

Ariadne’s expression grew increasingly serious.

*Is this why Secretary-General Albani was reluctant to give me the ledgers?*

She had thought there might be some minor mischief.

It was common in foundations without a dedicated owner. But this was far beyond excessive.

She immediately pulled the bell pull in her office. When an almshouse employee entered the room, she said in a firm voice.

“Bring me Secretary-General Albani. Immediately.”

* * *

As Secretary-General Albani was summoned and led to the director’s office, he was inwardly impressed.

*I didn't expect her to call for me in just thirty minutes.*

He had thought it would take at least two days to review the books. But the new director was swift as lightning in her work, and decisive.

It was impossible to review ten years of ledgers in half an hour.

She must have deemed what she had reviewed sufficient to grasp the whole picture.

*This might be for the better.*

It was bound to happen. Better to get the beating over with.

With a somewhat relieved heart, he entered the director’s office where the new director had taken her seat.

Ariadne sat in Queen Marguerite’s chair behind the massive desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Secretary-General Albani as he entered the room.

The Secretary-General found himself shrinking, intimidated by the aura emanating from a sixteen-year-old girl.

“Secretary-General.”

A low voice called to him. The formal address was anything but respectful.

“Yes, Director.”

“You know why I’ve called for you, don’t you?”

When Secretary-General Albani did not answer readily, Ariadne pushed forward a ledger with entries circled in red ink.

With a swift hand, she flipped through the pages of the ledger. The red ink circles continued endlessly.

“I’ll ask you directly. Who did this?”

“…”

When there was no response, the word finally escaped her lips first.

“Did you embezzle it, Secretary-General?”

She hadn't calculated the total amount, but the scale of the embezzlement was shameless.

“It seems you've siphoned off eighty percent of the Rambouillet Almshouse's annual budget!”

Ariadne couldn't contain her fury.

“Don’t even think of saying it was a subordinate’s doing and that you knew nothing. An amount this large could not have been withdrawn by someone below you without going through you.”

Her voice grew even lower.

“Did you enjoy living in luxury, betraying the queen by taking the funds meant for the poor?”

She slammed the ledger shut on the desk.

“Did you feel no remorse seeing the poor starving to death? My goodness, and I, ignorant of all this, was shipping in grain…”

“…What you say is correct, Director.”

Secretary-General Albani opened his mouth.

“…But you are only half right.”

“What did you say?”

Ariadne glared at him, thinking he was trying to make excuses even in this situation.

“The part about that amount being impossible to withdraw without my approval is certainly correct. However… I could not have done so unilaterally without the queen's approval. Not for ten whole years.”

Ariadne’s expression changed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“For the past ten years, there has been a large-scale… embezzlement, if you will, at the Rambouillet Almshouse. Yes, there was an operation to siphon off the budget received from the royal palace to create a slush fund.”

Ariadne stared at Secretary-General Albani, utterly bewildered. He continued.

“This was carried out under the orders of the late Queen Marguerite. While I handled the specifics of item selection and methods, the monthly target and total amounts strictly followed Queen Marguerite's instructions.”

She asked again.

“So, you’re saying that Queen Marguerite fabricated the Rambouillet Almshouse's ledgers to create a slush fund?”

“…When you put it that way, it makes the late queen sound like a terrible person, but, yes. The truth is the truth. That is correct.”

Ariadne felt a dizzying gap between the Queen Marguerite she knew and the act of stealing food from the poor to build a personal slush fund.

Her queen would never have done such a thing. She shot back harshly.

“Why should I believe your words? What guarantee is there that you didn't embezzle it all yourself and are now pinning the blame on the deceased queen?”

It seemed Secretary-General Albani had anticipated this attack. He answered calmly.

“May I see the ledger for the most recent year?”

With Ariadne’s permission, he opened the ledger at the top of the stack.

“As you’ve confirmed yourself, Director, there are no red circles for the last six months.”

It was true. Ariadne nodded.

“Since the queen passed away, I have had nowhere to receive directives, like the target amount for this quarter. Naturally, the accounting fraud also stopped.”

He added.

“And after Her Majesty’s death, there was no channel to deliver the accumulated slush fund.”

After a moment of silence, Ariadne asked.

“…What did you do with the slush fund you created?”

“I delivered it to Her Majesty herself every month.”

“At the palace?”

“No, Her Majesty came to the almshouse regularly to collect it. When she couldn't come herself, she sent Lady Carla to receive it.”

Having questioned him this far, Ariadne dismissed Secretary-General Albani for the time being. She had heard all she needed to hear.

She immediately called for Giuseppe and instructed him to find out who the Secretary-General was meeting and to keep an eye on him for any suspicious activity.

After finishing this, she sat at Queen Marguerite’s desk, lost in thought.

*Her Majesty the Queen embezzled funds by taking food from the poor? She disregarded their starvation?*

It was something Duchess Rubina might do, but it was completely out of character for Queen Marguerite. Ariadne continued to ponder.

*If it is true, why would Her Majesty do such a thing?*

The funds for the Rambouillet Almshouse all came from the queen's palace budget anyway.

If she wanted to indulge in luxury, she could have used the palace funds freely.

But Queen Marguerite was not one to collect expensive items or jewels.

*…She wanted to create a fund she could use freely, away from the king's eyes.*

There was no other reason for Queen Marguerite to create a slush fund.

*But why…?*

Siphoning off eighty percent of the Rambouillet Almshouse's budget for ten years would amount to a sum large enough to fund an army.

*Aid for her family…?*

Queen Marguerite's family, the Brienne dynasty of the Kingdom of Gallico, had endured a long civil war, and more recently, a war of succession between the first and second sons.

*To support Prince Louis, the second son…?*

It was possible, but something didn’t quite fit.

It had been two years since Philip IV won the power struggle against Prince Louis and ascended the throne.

While more money was always better, if the goal had been to support Prince Louis, it didn't explain why the same amount was consistently embezzled until recently.

The amount should have decreased or increased; there should have been some fluctuation.

Ariadne sat in her chair, contemplating deeply.

Does this slush fund still exist? Has it all been spent? What was the money for? If it exists, where would it be?

*Inside the palace…?*

The most convenient place for the queen to hide money would be her own palace.

But the king, the very person from whom she wanted to hide the fund’s existence, also lived in that palace.

*A third location…?*

Ariadne mentally searched for places where Queen Marguerite might have kept a safe. The House of Marquez? The House of Cibo?

Suddenly, a realization struck her like a flash of lightning.

“!”

Ariadne shot up from her seat and strode across the room to the wall opposite the desk.

It was the very wall where the half-window was located.

Unlike the other three walls, which were made of stone, this wall was just a tapestry hanging over dark, lacquered wood.

*Fwump!*

She grabbed the tapestry and threw it aside. A wooden wall was revealed.

When she tapped on the wood, she could tell there was an empty space behind it. A smile spread across Ariadne’s lips.

“Giuseppe!”

She called for her trusted aide. Giuseppe quickly ran in and bowed his head.

“You called, my lady.”

Her eyes shining, she said.

“Bring me an axe.”