Chapter 67

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: The Rake’s Secret Lover
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What Isabella’s eyes, gleaming in the darkness, captured was another glittering object.

In the spot where the main players had just departed, a fleur-de-lis bracelet of shimmering red rubies and green topazes lay on the ground. Isabella scanned her surroundings, then darted out nimbly to retrieve it. She then hid herself in the garden once more. It was something she had desperately wanted, and she never imagined it would fall into her hands like this. The thought that she might later be questioned about why she had the bracelet crossed her mind, but she pushed it aside to worry about later. With a coveted jewel lying right before her, what else could possibly matter? Isabella was not the kind of person to leave it behind out of a lack of greed.

‘What strange luck.’

Isabella stroked the bracelet. As expected, a found object was unlikely to be in perfect condition. The setting must have been damaged in the fall, as the six prongs meant to hold the central red ruby were loose and wobbly. Isabella instinctively pressed down on the red ruby with her thumb. At her touch, the gem popped out of its setting.

“Oh!”

Startled, Isabella quickly picked up the fallen ruby from the ground and tucked it into her handbag along with the bracelet.

“…How annoying.”

Now that the bracelet was broken, her mood suddenly soured. Just moments ago, Isabella had thought finding the bracelet was a stroke of good fortune and was heading back to the grand ballroom. But walking alone through the garden, away from the secluded Queen’s Palace, a surge of anger welled up inside her.

‘To think I considered myself lucky for finding a mere broken bracelet! When did I, Isabella de Mare, become so pathetic?’

The prince’s attention was something Isabella had dreamed of. Her greatest wish in life was to become the Crown Princess. It wasn’t for lack of trying. She had even kept Prince Alfonso’s handkerchief, which she had obtained through Ariadne, with her at all times, hoping to somehow get involved with him. Yet her half-sister—a plain, country bumpkin who was no better than her in any way—had taken it all. Not only the prince, but even the attention of Count Cesare, which should have rightfully been hers, was now firmly in Ariadne's grasp! To be called lucky, one had to have at least that much!

‘Count Cesare’s proposal was supposed to be mine!’

Although Count Cesare had never sent her an official letter, he had repeatedly broached the subject of marriage with Isabella to her father, Cardinal de Mare. This intention to propose was not merely a product of Isabella's wishful thinking. The talks had become increasingly specific and his tone more insistent, which was why the de Mare family had hastily brought Ariadne up from the Bergamo estate. As far as she could tell, Count Cesare’s courtship had abruptly ceased right after, or around the time of, Ariadne’s débutante ball. As her thoughts reached this point, Isabella felt a fierce anger rising from the depths of her heart. When she first realized the prince was interested in Ariadne at the débutante ball, she had been more bewildered than anything, and only later did she feel upset. It was not the same burning, instinctual rage she felt now.

‘Did I… like Count Cesare that much?’

After a moment’s thought, Isabella shook her head. This was less about affection for Count Cesare and more the sense of loss felt by someone whose vested rights had been stolen. The prince was a nice-to-have, something she could live without, but having Count Cesare taken from her when he was already hers was a different story entirely. An uncontrollable rage blazed like a wildfire.

‘Damn that Ariadne girl…!’

When someone else obtains something you never had, you might feel a slight pang of regret. At most, you might come to admire or envy them. But when someone takes what is yours, it is a declaration of war. Humans are creatures who remember the grudge of losing their possessions longer than the death of their own father. (Gli uomini dimenticano piuttosto la morte del padre che la perdita del patrimonio.)

‘Everything was fine before she showed up! Who does she think she is, acting so high and mighty?’

Isabella made a decision. She would get Count Cesare back. She steeled her resolve to win back his attention. She loved the power to control others. That was why she had wanted Prince Alfonso, whose station was higher than Cesare’s. But now, Cesare’s chiseled face, his deep blue eyes, his lighthearted attitude, and his knack for commanding the atmosphere around him became unbearably desirable.

‘Right, aside from having no real chance at the throne, Count Cesare lacks nothing, does he?’

Half of his lineage was undeniably noble, he was incredibly wealthy, and beyond that, he had more than enough indirect influence to move others, such as his presence and impact in high society. Isabella didn't particularly want an army, military authority, or the right to levy taxes. She simply wanted to not be ignored by others, to be the most distinguished person in the room, and to be able to look down on others for her own amusement whenever she pleased.

‘Someone like Count Cesare... is perfect for me, isn't he?’

She could do it. It was just a matter of recapturing the interest of a man who had once been hers. And that half-sister of hers, who didn't know her place, needed to be taught a lesson.

‘Ariadne, I won’t let you get away with this!’

* * *

Ariadne and Alfonso walked through the maze-like garden in awkward silence. Ariadne strode ahead with quick steps, but she had no destination in mind. She was merely circling within the labyrinthine garden. Alfonso noticed that she wasn't really going anywhere, but he patiently followed three steps behind her.

“Ari…!”

After walking for some time, Alfonso could no longer bear the uncomfortable quiet and was the first to break the silence.

“Lariesa is the second daughter of Duke Eudes de Valois. As Cesare said, she is visiting San Carlo as part of the arrangements for a political marriage.”

Ariadne, who had turned away, did not answer. A moment of hellish silence descended. But Alfonso, undeterred, bravely called her name once more.

“Ari.”

The young lady with her back to him didn't even flinch. Though she appeared outwardly calm and composed, inside Ariadne, uncontrollable emotions churned like a stormy sea.

‘Lariesa…!’

Ariadne found herself feeling a sharp pang of jealousy that Alfonso had called his prospective bride ‘Lariesa,’ not ‘the Duchess de Valois’ or even ‘Duchess Lariesa.’ She bit her lip, flustered. What did it matter? It was perfectly normal.

‘Emotions are a luxury. Emotions are a luxury.’

Ariadne repeated the words to herself. She would not love anyone. In her past life, the love she had devoted to Cesare had become the shackles that consumed her life. She would not repeat the same mistake. Prince Alfonso was merely a tool. There should be no loving him, no devoting herself to him. She couldn't afford it. Everything beyond survival was secondary.

“Alfonso.”

At Ariadne’s reply, Alfonso straightened his posture.

“Yes, go on. I’m listening.”

He hesitated for a moment before cautiously adding another word.

“Are you angry… that I didn’t tell you about Duchess Lariesa sooner?”

To face and admit that one’s actions might have caused another’s displeasure required great courage. In terms of their relationship, Alfonso was taking a bold step forward. But Ariadne, wrapped in a shell and focused solely on protecting herself, mistook his courage for cowardly bravado.

“Alfonso, why would I be angry about something like that? Aren't we good friends?”

As Ariadne turned back, she came face to face with Alfonso, but her expression was completely hidden behind an enamel mask. From behind it, she answered in the most neutral voice she could muster.

“Congratulations on the marriage talks with such a fine lady. You’ll be the Duke de Valois’s son-in-law.”

Alfonso was left speechless. He wanted to tell her. *Duchess Lariesa is a bit strange. Do you know what she did today? I don’t think I want to marry her. Once Mother and Father learn of her personality, won’t they call off this marriage?* But her hard, hedgehog-like spines were pushing him away. *Were my feelings one-sided? Was it just my illusion that we were looking at the same thing? Do you not want me?* For the first time in his life, someone who felt special was telling him he was not special to her. Alfonso had always been in the opposite situation. His handsome looks, gentle nature, outstanding achievements, and noble status—the so-called ‘Golden Prince.’ People whose names he didn’t even know chanted his name, craved his attention, and wanted his affection. Many crossed the line. Conversely, his favor, no matter how trivial, had never once been refused. So Alfonso had never even imagined a situation like this. He was at a loss for words, simply staring at her. Was the virtuous thing to do to withdraw like a gentleman and respect her wishes, or… Alfonso clenched his fists tightly.

* * *

The more Isabella thought, the angrier she became. Something was terribly wrong. Ariadne had to be using some wicked trick. It was an impossible state of affairs for Ariadne to be living so sweetly, a prize in each hand, while she herself was happy over finding a single bracelet.

“That cunning girl must be playing the vixen!”

Had she resorted to vulgar physical advances? She must have. Ariadne had nothing to offer but her body, and there was no other way to explain this abnormal situation.

‘To think that Prince Alfonso and Count Cesare have no interest in someone as pretty and cute as me, yet they're obsessed with that ugly Ariadne!’

This could never happen in a fair competition. There had to be a conspiracy she didn't know about. Isabella was also furious with herself for carefully picking up a bracelet that Ariadne probably wouldn’t even realize was lost. *Should I just break this bracelet and throw it away…?* Just then.

- “Ah! Ah!”

- “Mmm, stay still.”

Strange, sticky moans reached Isabella’s ears as she fumed. It was the voices of a man and a woman.

‘What is this now?’

Isabella quieted her footsteps and approached the source of the sounds. It was a day for strange discoveries. Peeking through the bushes, she saw a small bench in a clearing, upon which a man and a woman with disheveled clothes were entangled. The woman’s pale skin was visible, and the man was just about to grope her.

‘Gasp!’

Isabella covered her mouth. It wasn't just because the man and woman were tangled in a scandalous position. The woman was wearing a mask and was mostly hidden beneath the man, making her hard to see, but the profile of the man, thoroughly drunk and fumbling to undo his clothes, looked for all the world like Marquis Campa.

‘Is there really a woman insane enough to be fooling around with Marquis Campa?’

If Cesare de Como was famous in San Carlo for being a ‘bad boy,’ the late-thirties Marquis Campa was famous for being a ‘terrible human being.’ As the sole heir to the wealthy Campa family, he had married a respectable noble lady as soon as he inherited the title. The Marchioness Campa, who had been renowned for her gentle and devout nature as a maiden, died less than a year after her marriage. Vicious rumors circulated about the cause of her death. Nevertheless, as the position of the lady of the house could not be left vacant with no heir, Marquis Campa soon began searching for a new wife. In the midst of marriage talks, an incident occurred where Marquis Campa assaulted the youngest daughter of a noble family sitting next to him during High Mass at the Grand Cathedral. She was a young girl who hadn't even had her débutante. This led the girl’s father, Count Rinaldi, to challenge the Marquis to a duel. Though now retired, Count Rinaldi was a man of martial prowess with a deep knowledge of swordsmanship. Marquis Campa barely managed to avoid the duel by offering Count Rinaldi a sum large enough to buy a lavish mansion in San Carlo and begging for forgiveness. In the end, the Marquis’s marriage talks fell through, and he married the daughter of a fallen noble who was practically a commoner. This time, his bride was sixteen years his junior. Marquis Campa’s second wife died of puerperal fever while giving birth, two days before her fifteenth birthday. This time, a rumor spread that the Marquis had ‘killed his young wife by giving her syphilis from his frequent visits to the brothels.’ The rumor was highly credible. After all, just a few days after the death of the second Marchioness Campa, the Marquis was involved in an incident where he beat a courtesan in the red-light district. This time, he was caught red-handed being violent while making a scene, so he was in no position to deny it. Once again, he paid a large sum of hush money to the brothel keeper to cover it up. After that, no one invited Marquis Campa to any social event. He was excluded not only from the ladies’ tea parties but also from the gentlemen’s salons. Naturally, the royal family did not summon him either. Marquis Campa was not even allowed to attend royal balls, but it seemed he had managed to slip into the crowd unnoticed today, thanks to the large scale of the masquerade. Isabella rubbed her eyes and looked at the entangled pair again. If this was rape, even someone as morally bankrupt as Isabella was willing to scream and save the woman. But from the woman’s breathless moans and flirtatious movements, it seemed she was enjoying it even more. Furthermore, judging by her build and the lines of her body, she was not a minor who had been tricked, but a full-grown woman.

‘No, who in the world is that crazy woman?’

Isabella narrowed her eyes, trying to see the woman’s face. The woman was wearing a black ‘moretta muto’ mask, but in a fit of passion, she let out a loud moan and dropped the button she was clenching in her teeth, revealing her face.

‘Holy hell!’