Chapter 73

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Price of Turning a Blind Eye to the Truth
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The moment she saw the marquise-cut red ruby, Ariadne nodded at Sancha, who stood in the doorway of Isabella's room. Sancha understood at once what her lady wanted and dashed off to Ariadne's study.

“What is this now?”

It was a question bordering on a lament from Cardinal de Mare, who had just discovered the red ruby. His voice was half-resigned, as if expecting to hear the name of yet another young lord. But this time, it was Ariadne, not Isabella, who answered the question.

“A rumor is circulating in high society that the red ruby that fell from Marquis Campa’s bracelet is in Isabella de Mare’s possession.”

Cardinal de Mare was aghast and immediately stared at Isabella’s face. He had heard the rumor that his eldest daughter was Marquis Campa’s mistress, but he hadn’t heard this latest detail. Good heavens. Physical evidence had emerged. For once, Isabella failed to control her expression, her face contorting as she glared at the red ruby. The immediate target of her resentment was Arabella.

“Hey! Why are you touching my things without permission!”

Isabella rushed to her vanity and struck Arabella at will.

“Ouch!”

“Why are you rummaging through my things! Huh?!”

Arabella screamed as she was struck hard on the shoulder, her cry drowned out by Isabella’s enraged voice. Isabella’s soprano tone was then buried under the roar of Cardinal de Mare, who was utterly fed up with everything.

“Stop tormenting your innocent sister! Enough—!”

The Cardinal shouted, glaring fiercely at Isabella.

“Tell me! Is this from Marquis Campa?”

Isabella was caught in a dilemma. To say no would be a lie, but to say yes would leave her speechless. Whichever path she chose, a lie was inevitable. And Isabella was not one to be afraid of lying.

*Come what may, I have nothing to lose.*

“It’s a ridiculous accusation!”

At Isabella’s firm denial, Ariadne smiled, the corners of her lips turning up. *How can someone be so shortsighted?* Sancha returned from Ariadne’s jewelry box with the item she had been sent for and placed it in her lady’s hand. It was a green topaz bracelet with a fleur-de-lis pattern. Taking the bracelet, Ariadne raised her voice.

“Father, this is Marquis Campa’s bracelet.”

This unfortunate bracelet, which could have borne a more glamorous name like ‘Count Cesare’s Bracelet’ or ‘The Bracelet of the Lady Who Seduced Two Princes,’ was now known as ‘Marquis Campa’s Bracelet.’ A cluster of marquise-cut, deep green topazes, each half a carat, scattered a rich light, but the golden setting meant for the centerpiece was empty, its stone missing. Ariadne calmly picked up the red ruby from the silver tray and placed it in the setting. - Click. Like Cinderella’s glass slipper, the red ruby fit perfectly into the elongated golden setting.

Ariadne looked triumphantly at Isabella.

“Do you swear to God?”

As the room fell silent, Cardinal de Mare strode over to Isabella and slapped her decisively across the face. - Smack!

“Ah!”

Stars spun before Isabella’s eyes. It was, she could swear, the first time in her life she had ever been slapped. Who would have dared lay a hand on the noble Isabella de Mare, the apple of the Cardinal’s eye?

“Have you been going around selling your oaths to God so freely?”

Cardinal de Mare scolded Isabella in a strained voice.

“Selling your smiles to any man, offering favors, cozying up to them just because they were nice to you? Is that how I raised you?”

Isabella’s pupils widened as she realized her father truly believed she was Marquis Campa’s mistress. This was a truly unacceptable accusation.

“No! It’s a misunderstanding! This is a terrible misunderstanding!”

Isabella, clad only in a robe thrown over her chemise, shook her head frantically and screamed.

“I swear to God, I have never done anything of the sort with Marquis Campa!”

- Smack! Stars flashed before Isabella’s eyes once more. This time, it was Lucrezia, who had been watching from behind.

“You… you dare bring such shame upon your mother? How can I ever hold my head up again!”

Lucrezia began to sob outright.

“My daughter, the daughter I raised with such care and devotion! To think you’ve become the plaything of a scoundrel like Marquis Campa!”

“Mother, I said it’s not true!”

Annoyance spilled from Isabella’s lips and tears from her eyes. She sobbed as she shouted.

“When I arrived, Marquis Campa was already entangled with that woman! I was only watching!”

But Cardinal de Mare pointed out sharply. There was irrefutable physical evidence.

“Then why in the world is that damned ruby in your possession!”

In truth, ‘Marquis Campa’s Bracelet’ had nothing to do with Marquis Campa. If one had to name it, ‘The Bracelet Isabella Secretly Found’ would have been more accurate. But ever since Count Cesare had publicly spun a plausible lie about how ‘Marquis Campa’s Bracelet’ had come into the Marquis’s possession, people believed it was truly an item the Marquis had won in a gamble.

“This ruby…”

For a moment, Isabella considered telling the truth. But doing so would require admitting to too many painful truths and her own wicked deeds.

*The truth is, Count Cesare voluntarily took the blame to save Ariadne.*

Admitting that Count Cesare had sacrificed himself to save Ariadne was incredibly difficult for Isabella. That marriage prospect had originally been hers. If her father learned that Cesare’s interest had shifted elsewhere, he would be all too pleased. What if the engagement proceeded swiftly with the new party? And more than anything, she did not want to voice the truth and have it confirmed.

*This bracelet wasn’t Marquis Campa’s. I secretly picked it up beside an abandoned fountain.*

She could never admit the pathetic truth that she had picked up Ariadne’s bracelet, claiming it as a windfall. Besides…

*And why was it found near Marquis Campa? Because I threw it there to frame Ariadne as his mistress.*

If she told that story, her father would surely kill her. He might not kill her literally, but he could very well lock her away in a convent—the final destination for troublesome noblewomen. Isabella had already been warned by her father once at the débutante ball and again at the hunt. Three strikes would be the Cardinal’s limit. She could not let him find out.

“Marquis Campa’s mistress took only the ruby out and pressed it into my hand. She asked me to keep it a secret.”

Determined to deny everything to the end, Isabella wiped away her fresh tears and shook her head.

“Really, I am not Marquis Campa’s mistress! That ugly, pot-bellied old man! It’s not true!”

But there was something Isabella had overlooked. Cardinal de Mare stared at her in disbelief.

“Does that even make sense? What, was that woman some kind of Hercules to pull just the stone from the bracelet and press it into your hand?”

The ruby had popped out of its setting with a click while Isabella was fiddling with it. Now suddenly a Hercules by her father’s standards, Isabella inwardly cursed the jewelers for their shoddy craftsmanship.

“And if she was in such a hurry to escape, why would she give you a bribe at all? Wouldn’t she have given you the entire bracelet? What madwoman would stand there and pry out only the ruby to press into your hand?”

But stubborn insistence was Isabella’s specialty.

“I don’t know! She just gave me the jewel and left! How am I supposed to know what she was thinking!”

But the true point of Cardinal de Mare’s logical critique was yet to come.

“And so, you knew perfectly well that Marquis Campa’s mistress was someone else, yet when your sister was in a bind, you kept your mouth shut because you coveted a mere jewel?”

Isabella froze, her mouth snapping shut.

“Was it so difficult to say, ‘So-and-so is the Marquis’s mistress, I saw her flee’! Or are you truly that devoid of sisterly affection!”

*Ah, right. Even with this version of the story, I still come out looking like an unloving older sister to Ariadne.*

Isabella ground her teeth inwardly but continued to make excuses. The words flowed from her mouth instinctively, as if her tongue, not her brain, knew exactly what to say.

“I told you, I didn’t see the woman’s face! If I had seen who it was, I would have said so, of course!”

Countess Bartolini was well-known for her piety and charity work. She was a lady who often volunteered at the orphanage attached to the San Ercole Basilica. Isabella figured that even if she named Countess Bartolini, her father would assume she was lying. Besides, some secrets were more valuable when kept to oneself.

“If you didn’t know who she was, why on earth would she give you a ruby and ask for your silence!”

“Maybe she thought I saw her! It all happened so suddenly, we were both flust-ered!”

Isabella’s room was in chaos. There was the Cardinal, veins bulging on his forehead; Isabella, shrieking and defiant; and scattered all over the room, the various jewels and accessories she had received from men and—according to her—one woman. Nothing was calm or in its proper place. The exhausted Cardinal de Mare pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I have failed in raising my children.”

Lucrezia started, glancing around nervously. Cardinal de Mare lowered his voice further, lamenting in a hoarse growl that sounded truly drained of energy.

“Isabella, Isabella. I am so disappointed. I don’t even know where to begin to teach you.”

To Isabella, who stood defiantly before her father in nothing but a robe over her chemise, as if to ask what she had done wrong, Cardinal de Mare slowly shook his head and pronounced his sentence.

“I will believe that you are not Marquis Campa’s mistress. If I do not believe my own child, who will?”

Listening from behind, Ariadne wrinkled her nose. The Cardinal, failing to notice, continued.

“But San Carlo will not think so. And frankly, your story is so suspicious that there is no basis on which to issue a strong denial.”

Isabella’s eyes widened. *But, Father, you can just reveal that Countess Bartolini is the mistress!* But having just claimed a minute ago that she ‘didn’t know who the woman was, didn’t see her face,’ she couldn’t say a word, and could only insist.

“Father! No, I can fix all of this!”

She planned to secretly spread a rumor among her friends: ‘Marquis Campa’s mistress is actually Countess Bartolini.’ Since that part was true, evidence would surely follow once the rumor was out. All she needed to do was light a fuse in high society. However, Cardinal de Mare had no intention of letting his troublesome, reckless eldest daughter anywhere near society again.

“Be quiet! What more mischief are you planning to stir up!”

Right now, that child was completely devoid of propriety and common sense. If she did possess them and still acted this way, then her conscience was at rock bottom. Between the two hypotheses—1) she has no sense, or 2) she has no conscience—Cardinal de Mare chose the first, as it made his daughter seem slightly less despicable. An offense born of ignorance was better than one born of malice, in that the person was less evil. But from another perspective, if it meant she could not be corrected, it was arguably worse. Though a clergyman, the Cardinal was a rationalist by nature, and so he weighed the possibility of correcting her behavior over simply judging its morality. It was not an easy choice. He decided to keep his eldest daughter, who lacked all common sense, away from society until she could be re-educated.

“Fortunately, the entire San Carlo court is moving to the southern winter palace soon. Don’t even think of following. Until everyone has departed for Taranto, you are to remain confined to this house and not stir a step outside.”

“Father!”