Chapter 90

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Don't Cross the Line
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“The academic term usually ends in early December, so all the grades should be finalized by now. It’s late January, isn’t it about time for your report card to arrive?”

Lucrezia interjected cluelessly.

“My son, did you receive any awards? Of course, being my son, graduating at the top of your class must have been a breeze, right?”

Ippolito wanted to knock out Lucrezia’s front teeth, exposed as she smiled. He had gone to the trouble of bringing her back from her exile at the Bergamo estate, only for her to send her own son to the slaughter! But he just laughed amiably and brushed off his mother’s words.

“Haha! Of course, I’m your son, after all. I didn’t graduate at the top of the class, but I was set to graduate with honors and was even chosen by popular vote to give the commencement speech. Originally, that is.”

“Originally…?”

At his parents’ question, Ippolito put on a dramatic expression and shook his head.

“Right now, Padua is in the midst of a heated debate about whether the university should relocate. Because of that, the students are on strike, and all academic activities have come to a complete halt.”

It was true that the university city of Padua had decided to impose new taxes on previously tax-exempt university facilities and staff, and that the University of Padua was strongly protesting this. But the claim that academic activities had stopped or that students were demonstrating was a barefaced lie. It was nothing more than a fantasy concocted by a group of students who didn’t want to take their exams. Nevertheless, Ippolito launched into a passionate, feignedly solemn speech.

“Can you believe it? Padua went from a rural backwater to a proper city thanks to us, and now they’ve forgotten that kindness and want to levy taxes! What are they doing to the teachers who pursue knowledge and the students who study? This is why free cities without a monarch have no principles.”

Lucrezia’s eyes widened as she asked with a worried expression.

“So, they won’t give you your degree?”

“Your son cannot turn a blind eye to injustice, Mother.”

Cardinal de Mare was also watching his son closely. Drunk on the attention, Ippolito slammed his fist on the table. The dishes rattled, and his younger sisters stared at him in surprise.

“So, as the student representative, I organized a boycott of the academic schedule. My entire department refused to take the final exams.”

Lucrezia was horrified, worrying for her son.

“Then shouldn’t you be in Padua waiting for an announcement about a supplementary exam, instead of being here?”

“Mother.”

Ippolito gazed at Lucrezia with profound eyes.

“With you in such a state, how could your son possibly sit in Padua and focus only on his studies?”

Tears welled in Lucrezia’s eyes. She hadn’t lived her life in vain. Even though her husband had cast her out so mercilessly, she had a son who genuinely cared for her. Swept up in the momentum of being the spokesman for a noble and sublime cause, Ippolito voiced the day’s objective. In truth, his words were driven less by purpose and more by the vanity of wanting to appear impressive.

“Father, Mother has suffered so much. Couldn’t you please let her return home now? It’s true that she did wrong, but she is reflecting on her actions so deeply.”

Isabella, who had been sitting quietly, dabbed at her eyes. Little Arabella, who hadn’t even had a chance to grasp her mother’s skirt amidst the chaotic reunion of her mother and older sister, rubbed her slightly tingling nose. Cardinal de Mare cleared his throat once more, which Ippolito took as a sign of deliberation and pushed again.

“Well, her methods were poor, but it was all for the good of our family. Mother’s intentions weren’t bad. She is a kind person at heart.”

*That old excuse, ‘but they’re a good person.’* Ariadne inwardly clicked her tongue. There was much she wanted to say, but to throw a wrench in things now would make her a villain of the highest order.

“From now on, I’ll take Mother to the Grand Papal Basilica to pray for blessings together. So please, Father, forgive Mother just this once. I will take full responsibility for everything.”

Ippolito thumped his chest. His declaration, “I will take full responsibility for everything,” was uttered lightly, simply because it sounded cool, but Cardinal de Mare interpreted it quite differently. Ippolito was his eldest son, the next head of the family. To the Cardinal, Ippolito’s vow sounded like a promise to prevent Lucrezia from causing any more trouble. He also took it as Ippolito’s promise that, as the future head of the family, he would take responsibility for any damage Lucrezia might cause and do his utmost to mitigate it.

“Are you saying you can truly take responsibility?”

His raised left eyebrow twitched.

“Of course!”

Utterly oblivious to his father’s thoughts, Ippolito boasted confidently. Cardinal de Mare gave a single, sharp nod.

“Then let it be so. You will take responsibility for your mother and see to it that there is no more trouble.”

The Cardinal then looked at Isabella, who was sitting forlornly in her pure white dress.

“And you. I trust you have reflected deeply as well. Your confinement is lifted, but you are forbidden from going out for the time being. You are permitted only to go to church to pray. Do you understand?”

Isabella lowered her head meekly, her face pale.

“I have reflected a great deal, Father. I will not cause you any more concern.”

“Very well.”

Having settled matters, Cardinal de Mare picked up the meat knife he had set down.

“Now, let us finish our meal and retire to our rooms. Ariadne, if you would be so kind as to see to everyone’s sleeping arrangements.”

Just as Ariadne was about to bow her head and reply, Ippolito cut in.

“By the way, Father.”

He glanced meaningfully at the golden seal of the mistress of the house on Ariadne’s hand.

“Now that Mother has returned, shouldn’t she be the one to manage the household? With the rightful mistress present, we can’t let a young sister trouble herself.”

Even Lucrezia herself was startled by his words and looked at the Cardinal. *Isn’t this asking for too much in one day?* Ariadne shook her head. She had long known her half-brother was not bright, but he was truly oblivious.

“Hmm…”

However, Ariadne’s father was more shameless than she had thought. Instead of shutting down Ippolito’s proposal at once, he began to consider it. After a moment of thought, Cardinal de Mare came up with the kind of solution favored by decision-makers uninvolved in practical matters: ‘I’ll divide it between you, so don’t fight and get along.’

“Certainly, Ariadne is young, and the seal of the mistress doesn’t quite suit her.”

Left unsaid was, *‘the second daughter, born of an illegitimate line.’* Ariadne’s heart sank.

“But your mother has made too many mistakes as the mistress. It would not be right for her to be immediately reinstated.”

This time, the expressions of Ippolito, Lucrezia, and Isabella soured. After putting his wife and children through an emotional rollercoaster, Cardinal de Mare presented his compromise.

“So, let’s have your mother draw up the budget, and Ariadne will be in charge of its actual execution.”

“I refuse!”

The loud voice that burst out belonged, surprisingly, not to Ippolito or Lucrezia, but to Ariadne. Cardinal de Mare’s eyes widened as he stared at his second daughter, who had never before said she wouldn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn’t do something.

“What has gotten into you to say such a thing?”

He was unaware that his second daughter, then as now, never let go of the gold that came into her hands.

“Your Eminence. With authority comes responsibility, but conversely, if you are to assign me responsibility, you must also grant me authority.”

Ariadne shot sharp glares at Lucrezia and Ippolito in turn before looking at the Cardinal.

“If you charge me with the duty of managing the household while tying my hands, I cannot do the work. Just take it all.”

Ippolito shot up from his seat and bellowed at Ariadne.

“When Father gives you an order, you should just say ‘yes, yes.’ Where does a pipsqueak like you get off glaring at me…!”

Ariadne retorted without yielding an inch.

“Brother, do not interfere in the household’s domestic affairs!”

She then appealed to Cardinal de Mare.

“In fact, a significant reason I cannot hand over the mistress’s seal to Mother is because of you, Brother.”

“What?!”

Ippolito now looked ready to beat Ariadne. He rose from his seat and strode toward her.

“Have you said your piece?!”

Ariadne signaled to Sancha, who was standing by the dining room entrance. Sancha, keenly understanding what her lady wanted, quickly ran upstairs. Just before Ippolito could swing his fist, Cardinal de Mare stopped his son.

“Enough! Will you not return to your seat at once?!”

Only then did Ippolito, panting, return to his chair, still seething with uncontrollable anger. He glared at his half-sister as if he could shoot flames from his eyes. *Shut up, shut up, I don’t know what you’re going to say, but just shut up…!*

“Brother Ippolito currently receives a monthly allowance of 15 ducats, but are you aware, Father, that he has demanded an additional 23 ducats from me each month for his personal use?”

Cardinal de Mare looked at Ippolito in shock, his eyes demanding an answer. Ippolito, who had been threatening to chew up and spit out his sister, immediately changed his tune before his father. He tried to brush it off, half-obsequiously, half-jokingly.

“Well… A man of stature has friendships to maintain, and there are often times when one must buy meals and drinks. I have to manage my connections, too.”

But his half-sister was not so easily placated. Like a predator that had spotted its prey, she cornered him.

“All the noble sons you could call friends are down in Taranto right now. What kind of connections are you managing in San Carlo in the middle of winter?”

Ariadne scoffed and gestured with her chin toward Maletta. Maletta, who had been standing with the other personal servants at the entrance, flustered and quickly composed herself as the family’s attention focused on her.

“Or are your ‘connections’ the household maids?”

The entire family’s gaze shifted to Maletta. She stood out among the maids, not because of her appearance, but because of her attire. Maletta was wearing the de Mare family’s maid uniform, but its material and cut were completely different from those of the other girls.

The de Mare maid’s uniform consisted of a brown bodice worn over a white blouse, but Maletta had modified it to her liking, keeping only the basic form. The neckline of her brown bodice was cut scandalously low, exposing most of her chest, and the white shirt underneath was made of sheer linen that was see-through even in the dead of winter, unlike the thick cotton worn by the other maids. Not only that, but she wore a South Sea pearl necklace. It was not the simple freshwater pearl pendant maids sometimes wore, but a noblewoman’s necklace, made of a chain of South Sea pearls each the size of a thumbnail. The smooth surface and elegant luster marked it as a high-quality piece that even Lucrezia would have admired. The moment he saw Maletta’s disgraceful state, Cardinal de Mare realized where Ippolito’s money had been going and let out a groan.

“What is this…!”

Faced with the living proof, Ippolito trembled, unable to say a word. He could only grind his teeth and repeat something akin to a curse. Despite his son’s exposed true nature, Cardinal de Mare attempted to mediate once more.

“If your mother pays close attention and supervises him, wouldn’t Ippolito’s spending be controlled?”

Ariadne let out a hollow laugh.

“When it comes to her son… Mother becomes very generous. How do you think Brother Ippolito’s spending habits got so out of hand in the first place?”

Cardinal de Mare groaned again. There wasn’t a single false word in what she said. Just then, Sancha returned from Ariadne’s study on the second floor, carrying two books. One was Ariadne’s ledger, and the other was a thinner volume of papers bound in a leather cover.

“And Father, how much do you trust Mother?”

With a cold smile, Ariadne took the two books from Sancha. She opened the thinner one, which was not her ledger, and presented a page to Cardinal de Mare. It was another kind of account book. The cover indicated it was the type used by a dressmaker or tailor’s shop. As Cardinal de Mare looked over its contents, his eyes grew so wide they seemed about to pop out of his head.