Chapter 48

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: A Financial Prodigy
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Lucrezia hurried to Ariadne’s study, completely bewildered as to why her husband had summoned her to his illegitimate daughter’s room. She didn’t know what it was about, but she was certain it wasn’t good. She cautiously knocked on the door of the second daughter her husband had brought home from the outside. Hearing his voice from within, she entered the room.

“Lucrezia. Look at this.”

Cardinal de Mare waved a double-entry ledger in front of her face, with its neat columns for debits and credits. Lucrezia peered at the paper, trying to make sense of it. Why on earth was the same thing written twice, once on the left and once on the right?

“This child managed the entire débutante ball for a mere 138 ducats.”

“What?”

Only then did Lucrezia show her surprise.

“Is that even possible?”

“Of course it’s possible! Why else would I have 12 ducats left over in my hand?”

Cardinal de Mare shook a purse containing twelve gold coins in front of Lucrezia’s face, his voice sharp with anger.

“How much did you spend on Ippolito’s farewell party? It had only half the number of guests as this ball, yet you spent 500 ducats, and then another 36 on top of that!”

Feeling the sting of his accusation, Lucrezia lowered her head in guilt and stared at the floor.

“This time, it cost Ariadne 138 ducats to arrange the entire ball. That includes the 20 ducats for her own preparations. And Isabella? Isabella spent 50 ducats on her dress alone!”

If he could, the Cardinal looked as if he would tear Lucrezia to shreds with the account book.

“Add to that her shoes, accessories, cosmetics, and perfumes, and the total Isabella spent on her own adornment was 68 ducats! Do you think that makes any sense?”

Lucrezia was speechless. She had been the one to approve Isabella’s lavish dress. While having Isabella’s accessories made, she had even slyly commissioned a piece of gold jewelry for herself. Since she had partaken in the spoils, she couldn’t blame her daughter.

“From now on, I will give Ariadne her allowance directly to manage her own expenses! And you will ensure that Isabella does not spend a penny more than Ariadne does!”

“What?! Your Eminence!”

Lucrezia’s face turned ashen at the suggestion that even a part of the household finances would be handed over to her husband’s illegitimate daughter. Lucrezia had her own family to support. It was as clear as day that if she gave an inch, she would be pushed back a mile. She could not back down. Summoning a surge of boiling anger from the pit of her stomach, she lashed out at the Cardinal.

“If Your Eminence does this, what does that make me! As her mother in name, how will my authority stand with that child?”

“Then you should have acted like one!”

But Cardinal de Mare seemed to have no intention of yielding today.

“What did I say on the day the ‘Heart of the Deep Blue Sea’ arrived! Didn’t I tell you I would take measures soon?!”

He was referring to the times her neglect of Ariadne—mistreating her, not feeding or clothing her properly—had been exposed to San Carlo society. Lucrezia had assumed her husband had forgotten about it since he had been quiet afterward, but now he was attacking her, remembering every last ducat. She felt a profound sense of sorrow and injustice.

“I have lived with you for over twenty years! How could you do this to me?!”

“Twenty-two years, to be precise. And if you had managed the household accounts properly even once during those twenty-two years, I would not be saying this. I may have my faults, but I have never made you suffer financially. You should have repaid my trust! I will not accept any arguments on this matter. That is my decision! Now, leave!”

The husband who, though cold, had always conceded to her in the end was nowhere to be seen. The issue of gold, a sensitive topic for anyone but especially for the Cardinal, combined with the mistrust that had accumulated over the years due to Lucrezia’s family, resulted in her being utterly humiliated in front of Ariadne and thrown out by her husband. After expelling Lucrezia, Cardinal de Mare, in a foul mood, wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

“Ahem. Ahem. In any case, this ball’s ledger was exceptionally well-kept. Speaking of which, I heard there was an incident at the ball?”

He was referring to Ariadne’s dress tearing.

“Yes, Father. It was nothing serious.”

Ariadne bowed her head respectfully. The Cardinal nodded.

“Yes, I made some inquiries among my social circles, and it seems your reputation has passed through unscathed.”

In truth, some of the things Cardinal de Mare had heard were not fit to be repeated to his young daughter. A rumor had spread among the gentlemen that in some respects, the younger de Mare daughter was superior to the elder. A typical father would have been enraged, but Cardinal de Mare was a peculiar man. He figured that being popular in any way was a good thing and let it go. All in all, her standing among the gentlemen had risen, and thanks to Countess Marquez, the prevailing opinion among the ladies—the key influencers of society—was that Ariadne was to be pitied. His second ‘product’ had lost nothing. The Cardinal was satisfied with that. But while one accident could be covered by a stroke of luck, the same thing could not be allowed to happen twice.

“Have you looked into how it happened? Was it a problem with the dressmaker?”

Ariadne shook her head.

“No, Father. I looked into it, and it seems the problem with the dress occurred after it was brought into the house. I will investigate further and report back to you.”

“Good. Managing the staff is an important quality. See to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, Father.”

Cardinal de Mare informed Ariadne that he would henceforth provide her with a monthly allowance of 10 ducats directly, and then he left her study. The moment he was gone, Sancha, who had been waiting in the antechamber and eavesdropping on the conversation, rushed in with a distressed look on her face.

“My lady, why didn’t you reveal that Lady Isabella was behind the incident with the dress!”

“Because there’s no definite proof yet.”

A fight without physical evidence would ultimately come down to Isabella’s word against Ariadne’s. Despite everything she had built up since her return, Ariadne didn’t believe for a second that her father would trust her word over Isabella’s. Moreover, a ‘victory’ in such a fight required more than just her father believing her; it required him to punish Isabella based on her word alone. Ariadne shook her head. It wasn't the right time to make her move. After the ball, Ariadne and Sancha had meticulously examined the torn first débutante dress. The ‘hooks’ Maria had brought were indeed in common use. The only difference was that while normal hooks were made of iron, the ones Maria had brought were made from a mixture of lead and silver, making them extremely soft. It was particularly odd that they had extravagantly mixed lead with silver, when it was usually mixed with iron. Mixing lead with silver, which was already softer than iron, meant the hooks Ariadne used were designed to come undone over time. Furthermore, they discovered that someone had used a knife to snip every twentieth stitch along the front of the dress. The Raggione dress shop had sent the garment over with meticulous, sturdy hand-stitching, but now there were artificial cuts in the thread, clearly made by a sharp object. Someone had set a trap, intending for it to tear. Sancha was furious, convinced it was Isabella's doing, and Ariadne wholeheartedly agreed, but they lacked decisive proof. The hooks, though unusual in material, were ordinary in shape, making it impossible to trace their origin. The fact that Maria, who was in charge of the clothes, was friendly with Maletta was another piece of circumstantial evidence, but it wasn't enough to accuse Isabella, the eldest daughter of the house, of tampering with Ariadne’s dress.

“Oh, it’s so frustrating!”

Ariadne soothed Sancha.

“Let’s wait. Everything will work out in the end.”

“My lady, are you training to be a saint?!”

To a frustrated Sancha, Ariadne replied with a smile.

“This is hardly waiting. Let’s gather evidence, piece by piece. Evidence is like a bomb. You have to detonate it all at once when your opponent is weak to inflict real damage. Setting off little bits now will only scratch the surface, it won’t hurt anything vital.”

However, Ariadne agreed that Maria had to be dealt with. Taking advantage of the acquaintance she’d made with Niccolo, the butler, Ariadne slipped him an extra 50 florins and had Maria’s position changed. Maria, who had been living comfortably as a lady’s personal maid, was abruptly reassigned to the scullery in the kitchen.

“Maria must have been well compensated by Maletta for taking such a risk. If she did it for free, she’s a fool.”

“She does seem a bit foolish.”

“Well, it worked out for us. We got rid of a foolish friend and brought in someone sharp to take her place.”

The person brought in to replace Maria was Vicenta, whom Sancha had been keeping an eye on since her days as a third-floor maid. Sancha had praised her as being clever and capable, and indeed, she adapted quickly. Sancha’s grumbling, however, was endless.

“It was such a waste to hand over those 12 ducats to His Eminence! We could have put it to good use as a slush fund.”

“But now I’ll be receiving 10 ducats every month. I’ll make it all back in a month and a half.”

Ariadne smiled faintly.

“And I didn’t give all the leftover money to Father.”

“What?!”

“Doesn’t it seem like the clothing expenses were a bit higher than originally planned?”

Indeed, Ariadne’s initial budget for clothing had been a mere 5 ducats. On the final ledger, it had ballooned to 20 ducats.

“I made a deal with Mrs. Marini. In exchange for commissioning all my clothes from the Raggione dress shop for the next two seasons, we agreed to inflate the bill slightly.”

Sancha’s jaw dropped.

“So, those 15 ducats are our emergency fund. Understand?”

Sancha could only nod, amazed at her lady’s cunning. Cardinal de Mare was being fleeced from both sides. Ignorance was truly bliss.

***

Though Cardinal de Mare had limited his questioning to the facts when he was alone with Ariadne, later that evening, when Isabella and Ariadne were together, he scolded both daughters sternly.

“Family matters should not leave this house. You can fight like dogs at home, but outside these walls, you are on the same side!”

Isabella’s eyes welled up with tears as her father, who rarely raised his voice, shouted at them. It was true that the Cardinal seldom yelled at Lucrezia, but he was especially careful not to do so with Isabella.

“Ariadne. Even if your sister was in the wrong, you should not have pointed it out in front of others. You should have let it pass in public and settled the matter at home!”

Ariadne mentally reset the affection points she had accumulated for her father back to zero. *What became of my past life when I believed those words so faithfully? As if you would be such a fair judge!* But on the outside, she wore the polite, respectful, and trustworthy mask she always maintained and bowed her head to her father.

“I was thoughtless. I will take care to ensure it does not happen again.”

Satisfied with Ariadne’s concise apology, Cardinal de Mare turned his reprimand toward Isabella.

“And you, making comments about your sister’s figure? Have you no sense? How can a grown young lady not distinguish between what is proper to say and what is not? And of all people, to your own sister? Do you even have a concept of sisterly love?”

In all her life, from her earliest childhood to this very day, Isabella had never once seen her father single her out for his anger. A moment ago, she could have engaged in some mental gymnastics, telling herself the Cardinal's rebuke was aimed at Ariadne, not her. But now, the target and content were so specific that there was no denying the words were meant for her.

“Waaaaah!”

As his flower-like eldest daughter burst into tears, Cardinal de Mare was taken aback. Isabella paid him no mind and sobbed like a baby.

“...It wasn’t me! It wasn’t!”

Isabella truly believed she was innocent. She had to. With everyone telling her she was in the wrong, admitting it felt like it would reduce the person known as ‘Isabella’ to a worthless, useless piece of trash. In the face of her emotional immaturity, the facts were bleached from her mind, replaced by a field of flowers.

“Camelia was the one who first said she was showing off her chest on purpose! My only fault was not stopping her!”

“It wasn’t you?”