Chapter 59

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Lucrezia's Grievance
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He glanced over at Zanobi.

“At the hunting grounds today, in front of the King, all of San Carlo, and even foreigners, you defended your nephew Zanobi over Ariadne, who should be my child and yours. Hearing that story gave me much to think about.”

Cardinal de Mare waved his hand in the air theatrically.

“To others, doesn’t that sound like this? ‘Cardinal de Mare must be a complete fool. He’s been cherishing a wife who values her own family more than his, without even keeping a mistress.’”

Lucrezia, pale as a sheet, began to tremble. Isabella was so frightened that she choked back her sobs. Only Zanobi, with his already dull mind lost in his own misfortune, failed to grasp what was happening.

“I intend to cut off all aid to the de Rossi family from this point forward.”

Cardinal de Mare stared intently at Lucrezia with his deep green eyes.

“‘What is this man talking about? He already forbade me from sending money to my family,’ is what you’re thinking right now, aren’t you?”

Lucrezia flinched as if he had hit a nerve and looked down at the floor again.

“I knew you were playing games behind my back, sending money to the de Rossi family. I thought it would just make me look ridiculous to dig into it all, so I let it slide, thinking it was a cute little transgression. But that’s over now. I wouldn’t waste a single ducat of my money, no, not even a single florin, on these ungrateful wretches.”

Cardinal de Mare turned to Ariadne. Ariadne, who had been enjoying being out of the spotlight, was startled and quickly bowed her head.

“Father.”

“Ariadne.”

He looked at his second daughter for a moment before finishing his words to Lucrezia.

“From now on, Ariadne will audit your ledgers. You are to keep meticulous household accounts and bring them to Ariadne for inspection once a week.”

“……!”

Lucrezia’s face contorted. This was not only a humiliation, but it also meant that she could no longer wield her unrivaled power as the lady of the house. If Ariadne found anything suspicious in the expenditures, she would report it directly to the Cardinal. Now, she could not spend money as she pleased; every expense would require a legitimate ‘justification.’

“Ariadne. You are not to go easy on her just because she is your mother. If you see anything suspicious in the ledgers, confirm it all and bring it to me. I will not tolerate so much as a single potato or a head of cabbage going to the de Rossi family.”

He made a quick estimation and added.

“They’re probably getting at least 20 ducats a month from the de Rossi side. Find that much each month. I need to put a stop to it.”

Ariadne bowed her head respectfully but firmly.

“Yes, Father.”

Cardinal de Mare then addressed Zanobi, who was kneeling in the corner with his limbs bound.

“You will repeat this story, without omitting a single word, to your parents and your grandparents. Tell them this all happened because you didn’t know your place and shot a crossbow at the daughter of Cardinal de Mare. Tell them that the entire de Rossi family is on the brink of starvation all because of Zanobi de Rossi.”

As Zanobi trembled uncontrollably, Cardinal de Mare gestured to his steward, Niccolo.

“Take him away.”

“Yes, Your Eminence!”

A group of burly men swarmed in and dragged Zanobi out. They were taking him to the northern cellar, where household prisoners were kept, to sever the tendons in his arms and legs. Zanobi was herded like an animal all the way to the northern cellar. The de Mare family servants, whom he had always considered beneath him, approached with gleaming eyes, holding large knives used for butchering livestock.

“N-No! Stay away from me!”

Even when the Cardinal had ordered his tendons to be cut, Zanobi had thought, ‘Surely, they won’t actually do it.’ But the sight of the butcher knives finally brought reality crashing down on him. His desperate screams, however, were met with silence. Overwhelming force descended upon him, and the butcher’s knife sliced through the tendons in his shoulder and then his Achilles tendon.

“Aaaaargh!”

It was the moment a man who had tried to wield clumsy, personal violence was crushed by the violence of a group. A stronger man’s oppression had ended his future. * * * After Zanobi was dragged away, four rhythmic screams, like a pig being slaughtered, echoed from the direction of the cellar. Hearing her nephew’s screams, Lucrezia turned deathly pale and was rendered speechless. Cardinal de Mare spoke to her, his tone a mixture of affection and indifference.

“My dear. Think of it as a good excuse to free yourself from those leeches.”

And with that, he briskly left Lucrezia’s parlor. The Cardinal’s words, which were anything but comforting, offered her no solace. Lucrezia wrapped her arms around her knees, her body trembling like a leaf, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Figuring she had seen all there was to see, Ariadne decided there was no reason to stay any longer. She gave a slight nod and stood up to leave the room. Just then, Lucrezia let out a shrill, possessed scream.

“You! You demon-possessed wretch! Nothing has gone right since you came here!”

If her past self was a ghost, then the current Ariadne was indeed possessed. Lucrezia had always possessed an animalistic instinct that led her to the truth. She replied with a blank expression.

“Mother. The audit will begin next week. I’m sure you’ll need time to prepare, so I will see you on Friday.”

“Aaaaaaaargh! You stop right there! You insolent brat! I’ll tear you to shreds!”

Despite Lucrezia’s command, Ariadne did not hesitate for a second. She paid it no mind, held her head high, and left Lucrezia’s parlor. Isabella, huddled close to her mother, trembled as she glared at Ariadne, but there was nothing Lucrezia and Isabella could do at that moment. A faint smile played on Ariadne’s lips. She no longer needed Lucrezia’s permission to leave a room, nor did she have to fear being beaten by her. Freedom—this was the exquisitely sweet taste of bitter power. * * * Back in her room, Ariadne flopped onto her bed without changing her clothes. She had changed out of the hunting dress she had worn during the day and washed up, but she was still in her indoor dress after having to endure Cardinal de Mare’s commotion.

“My lady! You must change your clothes and wash up before you sleep!”

Sancha scurried over like a squirrel and tried to pull Ariadne up. Still sprawled on the bed, Ariadne waved her hand, motioning for Sancha to sit beside her.

“Father told me to audit Lucrezia’s household accounts.”

“Oh, my lady! That’s wonderful! Now you can wield the blade! Let her have a taste of it!”

Ariadne shook her head.

“I learned something important today.”

“What is it?”

“That even the most insignificant worm has a bite. You never know when they’ll do something crazy, so I must keep my cards hidden and avoid drawing attention. That’s the lesson.”

Ariadne had provoked Zanobi, thinking she was completely safe. But Zanobi possessed a savage strength that Ariadne lacked. She had assumed that in a society with strict norms and laws, no one would resort to violence unless they were mad. But a stupid, impatient fool had brandished what he had, despite the threat of punishment. Social pressure was ultimately secondary. When conflict erupted, the most primal solution was physical force. Sancha tilted her head.

“But then, when do you ever get to wield your power?”

There was some truth to Sancha’s words. Ariadne’s attitude in her past life—always kind, always polite, always considerate of others’ positions, no matter who they were—and the direction she had now resolved to take didn’t seem very different on the surface.

“When I’ve gathered enough. Enough to kill my opponent in a single blow.”

Ariadne didn’t think Lucrezia would be able to stop sending money to the de Rossi family. If she could have, she would have done so long ago. She would build her case, piece by piece, and unleash it all at a decisive moment. And then there was the matter of Isabella’s ‘iron hook.’ Sooner or later, Isabella would slip up. She would not let it go. And based on today’s lesson, Ariadne would become a stronger, more dangerous person. One who didn’t make mistakes, who could withstand unforeseen dangers with quick thinking, and who would never again be crushed by another.

“I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”

Ariadne had taken another step closer to the safety she yearned for. That night, for the first time in a long while, she slept a long, sweet sleep. * * * Lucrezia resisted Ariadne’s audit of the household accounts with all her might, but Cardinal de Mare was resolute. When Ariadne reported her mother’s non-cooperation twice, the Cardinal threatened Lucrezia, asking if she would prefer a system where she needed Ariadne’s co-signature for any expense. After crying, begging, and raging proved fruitless, Lucrezia had no choice but to hand over the ledgers to Ariadne. The state of the books was disastrous. Money was leaking from every corner. The same items were sometimes purchased under multiple expense categories, and new supplies were often bought even when there was still stock left. Ariadne took the ledgers and rummaged through the storehouses, randomly selecting a few items to compare the records with the actual inventory. Some discrepancies were due to false entries made to embezzle funds, but others were genuinely wasted money. Lucrezia was appallingly inept in this area. She bought things she already had and had trouble throwing anything away. She was the type who derived pleasure from the act of purchasing itself. Thanks to her, the de Mare family storehouses were filled with things like expired eggs, rotten potatoes, moth-eaten silk, and moldy linen. Ariadne clicked her tongue and picked out only a few of the most glaringly false entries, carefully selecting enough to amount to exactly 20 ducats for that month, and reported them to Cardinal de Mare.

“My lady, Lady Lucrezia’s perfume oil purchase on August 16th is the same kind of case as the false entry for a bulk hay purchase on August 3rd. It’s a different item, but she wrote that she bought it when she actually didn’t. Why are you letting that one slide and only telling His Eminence about this one?”

Sancha asked, her green eyes shining. Having more or less mastered reading, Sancha was now learning how to read and write in ledgers from Ariadne.

“Even when you corner a rat, you must leave it an escape route. Otherwise, it will bite you.”

Ariadne replied to Sancha’s question with a gentle smile. She was deliberately avoiding touching Lucrezia’s personal expenses, such as her grooming products or medicines. It was time to set the trap. That afternoon, she summoned the steward, Niccolo, to her study.

“Young Lady, I was told you were looking for me.”

Niccolo, puzzled as to why he had been summoned, bowed to Ariadne. Ariadne spoke to him with a smile.

“I called you because I have a favor to ask. It’s not exactly an honorable task, so you were the only one I could ask.”

A look of both anticipation and wariness flickered across Niccolo’s face. Not honorable—it smelled of a lucrative, under-the-table deal. But the position of steward for the de Mare family was a good job. He had no intention of doing anything risky that might cost him his livelihood.

“You know, of course, that I hold you in high regard and serve you with all my heart, but my loyalty to His Eminence the Cardinal is unwavering!”

“This is for His Eminence’s sake as well. Father will not blame you.”

She took out a one-ducat gold coin and placed it on the desk right in front of where Niccolo was sitting.

“It’s nothing major. Just drop a hint to one of Lady Lucrezia’s personal maids that ‘Ragione Tailors’ gives generous kickbacks.”

“Pardon?”

It was a task with little risk for Niccolo.

“Is that really all?”

“I’m paying for the use of your tongue because your words will be the most credible. I don’t think the amount is small.”

Niccolo instantly snatched the gold coin Ariadne had placed on the desk and slipped it into his pocket.

“You can count on me, my lady!”

What Niccolo didn’t know was that shady dealings, like a drizzle soaking one’s clothes, start with something trivial but, through repetition, soon become impossible to escape. A chess piece had been set.