Chapter 27

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Stealing Credit
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Seeing that all-too-familiar expression, Ariadne sensed something was wrong.

“You know, Arabella.”

Isabella wrapped her arm around her younger sister with extreme familiarity. Then, she jutted her chin toward Ariadne, gesturing for her to leave. As Ariadne lingered, reluctant to go, Isabella feigned affection and whispered to Arabella.

“Sisters have things to talk about.”

In front of Cardinal de Mare, Isabella had put on a nauseating act, saying things like, ‘You should call me sister now,’ but she dropped the facade with remarkable ease. Arabella glanced at Ariadne, a hint of guilt in her eyes. Isabella hurried her along.

“Go on.”

At Isabella’s urging, Arabella reluctantly spoke to Ariadne.

“Um… could you leave us?”

For some reason, the word ‘sister’ rose in Arabella’s throat as she looked at Ariadne, but with Isabella watching, she found it difficult to call Ariadne that. Having been dismissed by Arabella herself, Ariadne had no reason to stay. She stood, offered a brief nod, and left the sisters’ drawing room. Once she confirmed Ariadne was gone, Isabella fixed Arabella with that signature smile, her small eyes crinkling deeply.

“A family’s prestige rises with its most distinguished member. You know that, right?”

Arabella nodded before she knew it. It seemed she was intimidated by Isabella’s beauty, or perhaps by the weight of her older sister’s presence.

“Are you going to let an outsider who just rolled in take that spot?”

Isabella cupped Arabella’s cheeks in her hands, making her look up.

“I’m your real sister.”

With her bewitchingly beautiful amethyst eyes, Isabella stared directly at the young Arabella, coaxing her as one would a bird.

“Soon, there will be a Consecration Mass attended by His Majesty the King, Her Majesty the Queen, and His Highness the Prince. There was an announcement for young lords and ladies to apply if they wish to contribute their talents.”

Isabella let go of Arabella’s face and began twirling a strand of flaxen hair around her finger as she continued.

“You’re too young to qualify anyway. If you give this to me, I’ll submit it for you. And you’ll need a pipe organ to practice, won’t you? I’ll ask Mother to get one for us.”

Arabella looked slightly confused. For a ten-year-old girl, it was difficult to make a sound judgment when her own sister was speaking in such a honey-sweet tone. Something felt off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

“But Isabella… do you play the pipe organ well?”

“No. I’m not very good with keyboard instruments.”

“Then how will you offer it to the Holy See? This piece is meant to be arranged for the pipe organ. And you’re not the best with string instruments, either.”

Isabella looked at Arabella as if she had just said something incredibly foolish.

“Naturally, I’ll submit the score and say I composed it. Someone else will perform it.”

Arabella gave Isabella a strange look. Sensing her younger sister’s lukewarm reaction, Isabella showed a hint of displeasure.

“Look, Arabella. To be honest, I don’t even need a pipe organ to submit this piece. But I’m willing to ask Father and Mother to buy one, purely for your sake. I’m going this far for you, and you’re going to be so difficult?”

Isabella flicked her hair over her shoulder and stood up from where she had been sitting close to Arabella.

“Fine, if you don’t want to.”

*My smart older sister wouldn’t do something to harm me, would she?*

“Sister, wait.”

“Wait for what? Decide right now. Don’t drag this out, it’s annoying.”

Under Isabella’s pressure, Arabella finally relented.

“No, sister. I’m sorry. You can have the piece.”

Isabella’s pretty face lit up with victory. She reverted to her sweet voice and stroked her sister’s hair.

“Good thinking.”

***

Isabella may have been a cunning schemer, but she was a reliable party to a deal. She faithfully upheld her end of the bargain. She went to Lucrezia and Cardinal de Mare, charmingly explaining that she needed a pipe organ, and soon, a small one was indeed brought into the house. Of course, a pipe organ—with pipes made from an alloy of tin and lead, pre-assembled in a workshop and then fully assembled on-site—was something that took a good three to four years to install, so it couldn’t be brought in immediately. But the moment Isabella said she needed it, Cardinal de Mare readily paid the sum of several hundred gold ducats, and Lucrezia gladly offered up the high-ceilinged chapel in the east wing for its installation. A major construction project began, and until it was finished, a small reed organ was brought in for Isabella to use. Arabella watched the effortless arrival of the pipe organ with a heavy heart. A pipe organ was indeed an excessively expensive instrument to be installed in a private home just because a cardinal’s daughter wanted to play it.

*But why is it okay for Isabella, but not for me?*

As Arabella stood on the second-floor balcony of the east wing, forlornly watching the workers below, Ariadne quietly approached her.

“You got your pipe organ in the end.”

Arabella looked up at Ariadne and nodded.

“Are you happy to have it?”

At Ariadne’s question, Arabella shook her head.

“I don’t know. Why did Isabella say she’d only grant my request if she could submit my composition under her name? Isn’t that wrong?”

“Not everyone is good, Arabella.”

After a brief pause, Ariadne asked her.

“Are you really going to give that Missa Brevis to Isabella?”

Arabella furrowed her brow and retorted.

“Can I refuse now?”

“The pipe organ is already being installed. What can she do if you don’t give her the score? Demand they rip it out and take it away?”

Arabella’s deep green eyes sparkled with delight. The mere thought of getting the pipe organ and stiffing her on the score seemed to thrill her.

“Hee hee hee, you’re a genius, Ariadne!”

Excited, Arabella nuzzled her head against Ariadne like a puppy. But her joy was short-lived; the thought of the aftermath was apparently too much to bear.

“But she won’t let me get away with it. If I fight with Isabella, Mother will scold me, too.”

“You have to fight back against unfair treatment. Nothing will change if you don’t make some noise.”

To some extent, she was speaking to her past self. Ariadne spoke again, as if reaffirming her own conviction.

“Those people are bad people, and they’re trying to exploit you. No matter how hard you try to be loved, you’ll get nothing in return. Lucr… Mother only loves Isabella. And Isabella is rotten to the core.”

Arabella stared at Ariadne, her face a mask of confusion.

“But Isabella is my real sister, isn’t she? And so is Mother. They might be mean to you, but to me… they wouldn’t do that to me.”

Ariadne countered.

“Then why did the pipe organ you were denied suddenly appear when Isabella said she wanted one? His Eminence and Mother both know she has no interest in playing instruments, don’t they? Aren’t they your real parents?”

Arabella’s small hands clenched into fists.

“And the tutors. To match your progress, your music teacher, Mademoiselle Mancini, should have been replaced with a more renowned instructor by now. But she’s still here because they’re catering to Isabella’s pace, isn’t she? And yet they changed the court etiquette tutor to match Isabella’s level, didn’t they? Why is everything centered around Isabella and not you?”

Ariadne continued relentlessly, cornering Arabella.

“As long as you stay quiet and obediently accept everything, no one will ever know anything is wrong. It might be different if the person benefiting had a conscience and stopped it, but is Isabella that kind of person? She has no right to that score. She’s just stealing it!”

“Stop!”

Arabella pulled away from Ariadne and shot to her feet.

“The score… right. I couldn’t have used it anyway, so she must be trying to put it to good use. My own sister would never try to hurt me. And the pipe organ… it was probably too expensive, too much for just me, so His Eminence and Mother must have bought it so my sister and I could use it together. It’s not like they bought it for her and not me. And the tutors… it’s because I’m still young.”

Tears welled in Arabella’s eyes.

“It’s because I’ve been spending too much time with you lately. That must be it. If I give Isabella the Missa Brevis and stop being so friendly with you, she’ll treat me well again, just like before. And then Mother will be nice to me, too.”

Arabella pointed a small finger at Ariadne.

“You! Stop saying strange things to me. Don’t you dare insult my sister just because you’re doing a little better now. My mother loves me! I’m a real de Mare. You’re not!”

Having shouted the harsh words, Arabella wiped away her escaping tears and fled. Ariadne stood alone on the second-floor balcony of the east wing, gazing with a heavy heart toward the staircase where Arabella had disappeared. The cruel words didn’t hurt her much. It was all too clear that Arabella had spat them out in a desperate attempt to comfort herself.

*Did I say something I shouldn’t have?*

***

On the day the lead pipes that would form the body of the pipe organ were delivered to the construction site in the east wing, Isabella, basking in her parents’ affection, triumphantly snatched the score from Arabella. The small figure of Arabella, dressed in a satin summer indoor dress, looked particularly defeated as Isabella took the parchment score from her. As she handed it over, Arabella, like a mother giving her own child to a stepmother, fussed over the details.

“It’s a Missa Brevis, so I reduced the harmony and kept it short. It’s an ensemble piece, so I wrote it as a full score.”

(Full score: a single sheet of music that includes the parts for all instruments being played. It is typically used by conductors of orchestras and other ensembles.)

Isabella took the score and gave it a cursory glance.

“So, this is the music, and it’s called a ‘Missa Brevis’?”

“Y-yes.”

“Alright. Hand it over and you can go.”

Isabella took the score without properly looking through it, placed it on a table in the drawing room for a moment, and then told her maid to take it to the desk in her room. And so, no one noticed that tucked between the thick parchments of neatly and precisely drawn music, there was a single sheet of thinner, less expensive parchment with hastily scribbled notes from a practice session.