Chapter 26

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Innate Talent
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After defeating the Apostle of Acereto and having an audience with the Queen, Ariadne and Sancha's standard of living skyrocketed. For starters, they were given a room at the far west end of the second floor, complete with a study and a drawing room. Though called a 'room' for convenience, it was effectively a small suite with two private chambers attached to its own living room. As it had originally belonged to the eldest son, Ippolito, she had now occupied the largest and finest of the children's rooms.

“My lady! This is absolutely magnificent!”

Sancha exclaimed, fluffing the duck-down duvet on Ariadne's new bed and marveling at its softness. The new duvet didn't need it, but Sancha fluffed it again and again, savoring the texture.

“Sancha, you don't have to do that yourself.”

They had also been assigned new maids, Anna and Maria. In just a few short months as a maid, Sancha now had subordinates of her own. But Sancha shot Ariadne a sharp look and scolded her.

“My lady! How can you trust them with things that touch you directly? They are to go no further than the study!”

Ariadne smiled gently at Sancha's overprotectiveness. There was nothing wrong with being meticulous, but at this rate, she would wear herself out. *Knock, knock!* A rough knock echoed on Ariadne's door. As if the single knock were a mere formality, the door opened without waiting for a reply, revealing Arabella. She entered, clutching a lute nearly half the size of her own body.

“Hmph. It’s not like I came to play with you. I just came to see what sort of foolishness you’re up to.”

Ariadne instantly shed the relaxed air she had with Sancha and greeted Arabella with a warm smile, playing the part of the 'good older sister'.

“Why did you bring your lute? Do you enjoy playing it?”

“You clearly don’t know. I’m a lute prodigy.”

Arabella refused to call her ‘sister’, no matter what. But Ariadne didn't bother correcting her younger sister for constantly calling her 'you'. She hadn't yet decided if she would—or even could—be a proper sister to Arabella. She hated receiving kindness she couldn't reciprocate. If she couldn't return it, it was better not to accept it at all.

“So you have a talent for music?”

“Not just playing. I’m a great composer, too.”

The ten-year-old girl's words were defiant, but Ariadne didn't feel particularly angered by her attitude. She had seen for herself how Arabella had been an outsider in her own home these past few months. Lucrezia doted on Isabella unconditionally while excessively disciplining Arabella for the most trivial things. There was no consistency. These were things she hadn't noticed when she was younger. Moreover, having been thrown into high society in her past life without the proper education of a noble lady, Ariadne had been scorned as uncivilized for her inability to play an instrument. So, to her, Arabella's boast was both a little fascinating and a little enviable.

“Are you really that good? Play something for me!”

Taking Ariadne's question as a challenge, a piqued Arabella straightened her posture and rested the lute on her lap. She held the head of the lute with her left hand and plucked the strings with her right, and a gentle melody flowed forth. A trill of notes. It was a brilliant piece, its melody dancing across octaves. Amidst the ceaselessly changing pitches, Arabella's small fingers moved along the strings without a single mistake.

“Wow.”

*Clap, clap, clap!*

“You’re really good.”

“Lady Arabella, that was incredible!”

Sancha, too, hid the candor she displayed when alone with Ariadne, switching back into servant mode and showering Arabella with a volley of praise. But Arabella’s performance had been genuinely impressive, so Sancha’s applause was sincere.

“What piece was that? It sounded very difficult.”

Clutching her lute, Arabella blushed faintly.

“I composed it myself!”

“You did?”

This time, Ariadne was genuinely surprised.

“Really? You didn’t just arrange an existing piece?”

“No! From the harmony to the melody, I wrote every single note myself!”

As Arabella bristled, Ariadne quickly placated her.

“Whoa, whoa, I only said that because it was so good. You truly are talented, aren’t you?”

“Hmph. It’s nothing special.”

Seeing Arabella get shy with praise and angry with neglect, Sancha stifled a small giggle. Arabella shot Sancha a sharp glare, but when Ariadne gave her a stern look, she pouted and reluctantly turned her head away.

“Actually, I want a pipe organ. I want to arrange this into a Missa Brevis for a seven-piece string ensemble, with the organ as the lead instrument.”

“Can’t you use the one in the grand cathedral?”

A pipe organ was such a massive instrument that space for its pipes had to be considered during a building's initial construction. However, Cardinal de Mare's family was permitted to use the pipe organ in the San Ercole Grand Cathedral, thanks to his authority.

“I can only use that one on Sundays to accompany the mass. Even if I lie and say I’m practicing for that, the most I can get is about three hours on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The priests and nuns are always using it.”

“Couldn’t you ask Mother or His Eminence the Cardinal to buy you one?”

Arabella’s brow furrowed deeply, and this time, she looked genuinely hurt. But despite her pained expression, her words were cautious.

“Mother said… a pipe organ is expensive. Too expensive an investment for just one girl.”

Ariadne watched Arabella steadily, noting how she spoke words unbefitting a child. She was clearly parroting something Lucrezia had told her. It seemed she had already begged for one and been refused.

“Because good girls should share nice things with their sisters… And since Sister Isabella doesn’t use a pipe organ, she said she can’t buy one just for me.”

As she spoke, Arabella’s lips suddenly formed a pout.

“I’m not asking you for help! And it’s not like you’re my sister! Even if you wanted one, Mother wouldn’t buy it for you!”

Ariadne smiled gently, brushing off Arabella’s pointless attack. Truly, what Arabella really wanted to say was, ‘Mother, love only me. Don’t you dare touch my pipe organ.’ And wasn't the person she truly wanted to say that to Isabella?

“I don’t know how to play the pipe organ, so I couldn’t share it even if she bought one for us. Don’t worry. I won’t take what is yours.”

As Arabella looked at her, her expression a mixture of doubt and relief, Ariadne made another gentle suggestion.

“If you truly want a pipe organ, ask Sister Isabella to say she wants one. If she asks, I’m sure Mother will agree.”

Arabella hugged her lute, her face a strange mixture of hurt and desire. Ariadne then hugged Arabella from behind, and perhaps because she was still so young, Arabella didn't push her away. Had she been an adolescent, or had she known how to be just a little warier of people, this would have been impossible.

*A poor child, starved for affection.*

And yet, I’m in an even worse position. Who am I to feel pity for the child of Cardinal de Mare and Lucrezia?

* * *

Arabella was a clever child. Her mother’s favoritism toward her sister was an immutable fact; denying it would change nothing. On the other hand, if she could just extend the subservient attitude she had maintained toward her sister her whole life, she could obtain the pipe organ of her dreams. So, Arabella decided to ask Isabella. She was a little afraid to do it alone, so she chose a moment in the second-floor girls’ drawing room, where all three ‘sisters’ were gathered, passing the time before their governess arrived. Isabella, her flaxen hair gathered in a single braid draped over one shoulder, was wearing a form-fitting lavender day dress and applying scented oil to her eyelashes. Her eyelashes, glistening with the oil, and the amethyst eyes shining beneath them were incomparably beautiful, and yet, utterly bored. Overwhelmed by her sister’s fiery beauty, an intimidated Arabella spoke cautiously.

“Um, Sister.”

Isabella lifted her oil-moistened lashes to look down at Arabella. Her posture betrayed her annoyance, but her voice was as gentle as silver bells.

“What is it, Arabella?

“Um, could you ask Mother to buy a pipe organ?”

Ariadne, who had been pretending not to listen, shook her head involuntarily. She needed to make Isabella *want* the pipe organ. By asking so directly, she was just inviting Isabella to exploit the situation for all it was worth. Sure enough, Isabella’s pretty face began to contort with irritation, but after a quick glance at Ariadne, she restrained herself. Isabella was still trying to maintain at least a semblance of a good image around Ariadne.

*No one knows her better than I do. It’s useless for her to pretend to be nice.*

Regardless of Ariadne’s thoughts, Isabella replied in that same gentle voice.

“Arabella, a pipe organ isn’t something one can simply buy on a whim. Extravagance is a vice, unbefitting of a proper young lady.”

“It’s not an extravagance! I’ll really use it! I want to arrange my new hymn for the pipe organ, but I can’t use the one in the grand cathedral long enough to do it properly.”

On the verge of tears, Arabella was about to retort—*‘Don’t you collect cosmetics and luxuries imported from the Eastern Moorish Empire with gold coins? A pipe organ is far more wholesome than that!’*—but Ariadne gently pulled her back and placed a finger to her lips. Stroking the cheek of the indignant girl, Ariadne spoke up on behalf of her tactless little sister.

“Sister Isabella, Arabella’s hymn is truly beautiful. It’s far beyond child’s play.”

Ariadne glanced at the lute, then gave Arabella a meaningful look.

“Arabella. Why don’t you play it for her?”

*Trill.* Without a word, Arabella did as she was told and gently plucked the strings of her lute. The melody that emerged was splendid and complex, almost too grand for the lute’s humble sound. As she listened, Isabella’s eyes widened. After about thirty seconds, she waved a hand, signaling for Arabella to stop. She spoke before the piece was even finished.

“Wait, did you really compose that?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it for?”

“It’s a Missa Brevis. It’s still unfinished, so there are parts I need to work on.”

Isabella’s bored amethyst eyes narrowed, a new glint in them. It was the expression she wore whenever she was plotting something wicked.