Chapter 112 - An Eye For An Eye, A tooth For A Tooth, A Life For A Life


Ariadne entered Mr. Scampa's living room, straightened her clothes, and greeted her landlord.

“Mr. Scampa.”

Ariadne bowed deeply and greeted him politely.

“I sincerely apologize for any negative consequences that may have occurred to your daughter due to the actions of our family members.”

Scampa, who had been angry that no one had come to offer condolences, but had never imagined that a great nobleman—or even a member of the Cardinal's household—would come and bow to him, a commoner, in person, sat up from the sofa in surprise. He waved his hands and said.

“Why are you doing this all of a sudden? Get up.”

The nobles he knew were people who would greet someone as they pleased and then brutally kill the person they greeted if they didn't like it. It was best to avoid getting involved with them as much as possible. And he should avoid situations where they act strangely.

“I don’t want this kind of overwork either. I just want my daughter, Paola, to come back.”

His wishes were simple, yet in these circumstances the most extravagant.

“If only I could do that, I would have no other wish. But isn’t it true that life is a gift from heaven and cannot be changed by human hands?”

Ariadne looked at Mr. Scampa.

“It is the law that blood must be paid for with blood.”

Her deep green eyes shone intensely.

“I came here today because I have something to tell Mr. Scampa.”

Scampa's old mother, who had run to the kitchen, returned hurriedly with a teacup. With trembling hands, she humbly offered tea to the high-ranking person whom she had never seen before. Ariadne was about to decline, but when the person in front of her seemed to be shaking too much, she reluctantly accepted the teacup. However, once she received it, she smiled and put the tea to her lips. Her expression was confident and her eyes were intense.

“What Cardinal de Mare officially announced is fake.”

"I beg your pardon?"

“The dead maid did not steal anything, and she did not accidentally damage the body by distorting the story. The client indeed ordered her to cut off the head.”

“What the heck!”

Mr. Scampa jumped up from his seat.

“I knew this would happen! And then he tried to persuade me by giving me money!”

But Ariadne stopped Mr. Scampa.

“I must say one thing, however: Cardinal de Mare had no idea that this was happening.”

“What do you want me to do!”

Mr. Scampa cried.

“Since your family came into my life, nothing has been going right! Useless things have come up, you keep complaining about everything, and now my daughter is dead! And now, you’re asking me to forgive you because the Cardinal himself didn’t know?!”

Ariadne answered calmly.

“No way.”

She looked straight at Mr. Scampa with burning eyes. Their eyes met.

“You must take revenge on the person who killed your daughter.”

Ariadne placed the teacup down on the side table with a click. The sound of the teacup hitting the table startled Scampa's mother and she flinched.

“Life for life. Blood for blood.”

Ariadne did not take her eyes off Scampa.

“The person who killed Mr. Scampa’s only daughter was Cardinal de Mare’s mistress, Lucrezia.”

Ariadne clearly targeted Lucrezia for this case. It would be best if she could link Ippolito to the case, but if there were two culprits, the concentration would be low. If she wanted to clearly reveal to the outside world who was involved in the red-haired murder case, it would be right to choose Lucrezia. She was undeniably tied to this case because she sent away her closest maid, Loretta. 

Mr. Scampa sat on the sofa, shaking his hands as if he was being overcome with anger. Ariadne looked at Mr. Scampa with cautious eyes.

“The local cooperative leaders would prefer to receive cash. They have no money and many mouths to feed. But they know one thing and not two. They have to threaten people with their lives to get more gold.”

Ariadne spoke to Mr. Scampa in a low voice.

“Tomorrow, reveal that it was Lucrezia who killed Paola, and tell her that you want her life. The evidence is the maid that the local cooperative is holding. She is Lucrezia’s closest confidant.”

Ariadne rose from her seat.

“I can’t stay here long. The fact that I came here today is an absolute secret. But Mr. Scampa, do as I said today, and tomorrow I will give you the results you want.”

“How do you know what outcome I want?”

Ariadne answered in a feminine voice.

“Blood revenge.”

Ariadne then looked back at Scampa's old mother and smiled.

“And as much gold as possible.”

Ariadne bowed her head to his old mother.

“I would like to express my deepest condolences on the passing of your granddaughter. I know you are very sad.”

Scampa's mother took a deep breath in embarrassment. She felt like she had to pretend to be sad.

“Even if they demand only their lives and no gold, Cardinal de Mare’s palace will not wash its mouths. I promise that the amount of gold the Cardinal’s palace will give will not fall below the 300 ducatos promised today.”

'What use is the gold that you receive in blood money?', were the words that Scampa's old mother could not bring herself to say. Her face brightened. She grabbed her son's arm and shook it.

“Yes, how wonderful it is that the Lord is handling things so well!”

Ariadne bowed her head again.

“I will be going now. I offer my condolences.”

Ariadne stood up and handed a white rose to Mr. Scampa. Pure white roses were the mourning flowers, representing respect, humility, purity, and youth. She put on a thick robe and left the middle-class house of Castel Labico, walking into the darkness. 

***

The next morning, Cardinal de Mare was greeted not by the bereaved family who was satisfied with the 300 ducatos (about 300 million won), but by the determined bereaved family and the angry crowd.

“We want blood money!”

Mr. Scampa, representatives of the two local cooperatives, and the vigilantes stormed in front of Cardinal de Mare's house and vented their anger. They brought in the maid, Loretta, who had clearly been through various hardships, bound with ropes. The vigilantes, who had been interrogating Loretta the night before and had tortured her, had already extracted a useful statement.

'The red-haired maid who died with Paola Scampa had the child of the Little Master .'

'Madam Lucrezia was not pleased with that fact.'

'At first, she told me to just chase her out, but then she changed her mind and told me to bring her in.'


The truth was this: Loretta, beaten and threatened, was made to confess things she didn't even know.

'If I had caught Maleta alive, I would have killed her.'

'Lucrezia has killed many servants and maids before.'


'The cruel Lucrezia has a hobby of collecting heads.'

Cardinal de Mare's mansion was in a quiet, upscale residential area with little traffic, but this uproar couldn't pass without rumors. First, rumors began to spread like wildfire among the middle-class people of Castel Ravico and the poor of the Comunale Nuova.

“Did you hear the story? Cardinal de Mare’s government killed people!”

“They said she was a poor girl!”

“She was a good daughter of a friend who lived honestly. Why on earth did you kill her?”

“The Cardinal was trying to bring in a new government?”

“Then, at least it wouldn’t be so unfair! The son of that house touched the maid, and while trying to kill the maid, he mistakenly killed the girl who was coming back from her volunteer work!”

“Oh my God, how evil!”

“Even if she is a maid, would you kill a maid who is pregnant with your son?”

“She is a concubine, not the legal wife, so her behavior is like that!”

“You must not have liked seeing your daughter-in-law like that even though you were sitting there like that?”

“Yes? Cardinal de Mare’s government also settled down like that?”

“You’re young and from San Carlo, so you don’t know! This is a story that only Taranto natives know, but Lucrezia married Cardinal de Mare when she was young and full! The child she had then is now the rumored only son, and she didn’t raise her children well, tsk tsk!”

“Since the children did exactly what their parents did, there’s no reason to say that they did bad farming. It’s the same crop as the field and the seeds.”

“That’s right, huh!”

This story began to spread to the upper class through the people who worked as employees for each noble family and the market merchants who did business with the noble families. 

Cardinal de Mare met with the lower nobles and merchants who remained in San Carlo to prepare for the 'Spring Festival' and the Annunciation Mass, but he was so angry that they whispered meaningfully to him instead of speaking to him openly that he returned home early.

“Nicolo!”

Butler Nicolo came out, timid and extremely humble. He was very discouraged because he had not been able to successfully negotiate with the bereaved family and the local cooperative, despite being told to take responsibility for the situation. He greeted the low-pressure Cardinal de Mare with a look of caution.

“Yes, Your Eminence, Cardinal.”

But Cardinal de Mare's target was not the butler Nicolo.

“Tell Ippolito to come up to my study at once!”

“Yes, I understand, Your Eminence.”

***

When his father called him, Ippolito felt very nervous and headed towards Cardinal de Mare's study, located in the east wing of the second floor.

'Did you notice that I was in contact with vagabonds?!'

Ominous thoughts continued one after another.

'Or maybe you found out that Maleta is pregnant with my child? I should have told you outright that it's not my child. How would you know who she's been sleeping with?'

In fact, there was something else that Ippolito feared the most.

'You didn't find out that I didn't get my degree, did you?'

He knocked on the door of his father's study with an uneasy heart. 

Knock knock.  

"Come in."

Cardinal de Mare's voice, dripping with irritation, greeted Ippolito. He was so blunt that it sent shivers down Ippolito's spine.

'Could it be that my father knew that I might not be his biological son?!'

But fortunately for Ippolito, what Cardinal de Mare questioned Ippolito about was something entirely different.

“Ippolito de Mare. When you brought your mother from the Bergamo farm, you said, ‘Father, I will take responsibility for her.’”

Ippolito was so relieved that his father had called him by his full name that he didn't listen to what his father said.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Is this the result of the responsibility you took?”

'When did I say I would take responsibility?'

Cardinal de Mare questioned Ippolito sharply, leaving him in a dazed state.

“I thought at that time that you had a keen sense of the role and responsibility you had to fulfill as the next head of the de Mare family and that you had sacrificed yourself for your mother!”

'I?'

Ippolito was embarrassed.

“But look at the situation now! Your mother is losing control again and causing a huge accident! You, who shouted that you would stop her, are sitting here, rolling your eyes! This father is so disappointed in you!”

At Cardinal De Mare's words 'disappointment', Ippolito automatically straightened his posture. 

Disappointment, disappointment to me!

“No, Father! I can fix everything!”

“This guy! You're all out of business, and you're still talking!”

In fact, there was no way to correct it, so Ippolito just lowered his head in embarrassment at Cardinal de Mare's rebuke.

“As the next head of the family, if you have any opinions on this situation, please speak up.”

“..."

Ippolito was having a hard time protecting himself. The one who was being accused of being the mastermind behind the murders in the streets was Lucrezia. However, strictly speaking, the vagrants who committed the murders were those arranged by Ippolito. Ippolito had also given the order to kill Maleta. The reason Lucrezia had decided to kill Maleta was all because of Ippolito. Ippolito should have taken at least half the responsibility. 

However, he was neither clever nor ruthless enough to throw his mother into the public scapegoat and get away with it. Nor was he so devoted as to stand up for his mother. In a word, he was indecisive. 

When his son remained silent, Cardinal de Mare revealed his true feelings.

“Ippolito. For your future, it might be better to give up your mother.”

It was the father, not his blood relatives, who was more ruthless and cunning than the son.


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