Chapter 120 - What Do You Want From Me?


The letter had been thrown to the guards at the front gate by an anonymous messenger. The servants did not know the sender. Isabella sat down in the girls’ drawing room, which was now her own, and opened the envelope. 

Inside was a single note, more like a memo than a letter. The contents were also very short. The handwriting was crooked, deliberately written with a left hand so that it was illegible. 

“What do you want from me?” 

A smile appeared on Isabella’s lips.


'At this point, the paper is screaming at me to tell me who the sender is.'

Isabella had been worried that she might not receive a reply, but she had never expected such an honest answer. But a letter so anxious was a jackpot. The sender was now a butterfly caught in Isabella’s web. She picked up the letter paper and wrote a cheerful reply. 

“Dear Clemente, Isabella really doesn’t want anything. If my sacrifice makes you happy, that’s fine. However, Isabella is in a bit of a predicament these days. It’s not my fault, but my situation in society is a bit of a mess these days. Just be my friend. That’s all you can do. How about having afternoon tea sometime? Invite me. - Isabella de Mare’s best wishes.” 

Isabella sealed the envelope and handed it over to the postman.

“Send it to Count Bartolini. Recipient: Countess Bartolini.”

*** 

The San Carlo society was engaged in a fierce battle of wits over who would be their partner at the palace ball and who their partner would be. With the ball about two weeks away, it was time for a mid-term evaluation of the partnerships that had been formed so far.

“Yes? Count Cesare was rejected by the second daughter of the de Mare family?”

“Lady de Mare rejected Count Cesare and attended the ball with whom? ...Could it be that the rumors about Prince Alfonso were true?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Prince Alfonso will be attending with Princess Lariesa. The royal palace already announced the ceremony. It’s an official announcement.”

“Oh, that’s not it. She's attending with Julia de Baldesar’s older brother.”

“Ah... The Baldessar family had an eldest son. But she's rejecting Count Cesare because of the Marquis of Baldessar? Is that a wise decision?”

“Why? The Marquis Baldessar family is traditionally prestigious, and the title itself is higher than that of the Count family.”

“Is the Count de Como just a Count? His Majesty the King is so kind to him, so I’m sure His Majesty will give him something else soon.”

Even during a heated exchange of opinions, the Marquis Baldessar's connections influenced the direction of public opinion.

“Oh, my. Everyone. That’s not it. Miss Julia de Baldesar specially asked Miss de Mare to take her brother with her.”

“I heard that too. She said that he was embarrassed to appear in society, so she asked her friend to do it for her. They don’t have a special relationship.”

The Marquis Baldassar was one of the nobles of the capital who enjoyed the most confidence in Leo III, and as a result, friendly figures and related families came forward on his behalf.

“It’s just her friendship with Miss Julia. Don’t push it like a rivalry or a romantic relationship or anything.”

Some of those who actively protested that Ariadne and Raphael de Baldessar were not related had other ulterior motives. They were families who were looking for a successor to the Marquis de Baldessar as a marriage partner for their children.

'I put saliva on my daughter, so I can't have it stolen right in front of my eyes!'

'It's better to appear with the second daughter of de Mare than with another woman. If someone takes Baldessar's successor, I'd rather be with the lover of all people than have a stomachache.'

'With Count Cesare and Prince Alfonso fighting, who would catch the eye of Marquis Baldessar?'

As the date of the ball drew near, the story of Ariadne de Mare's rejection of Count Cesare's offer to be his partner was by far the hottest topic in town. The story was so widespread that it even reached Isabella, who now had few outlets for social gossip.

'What? Ariadne refused Count Cesare's request to be her escort?'

Isabella clutched the hem of her dress tightly.

'Ariadne, you full-bellied bitch, you slutty bitch, you bad bitch!'

A flash of anger flashed in her eyes.

'Why is everything so easy for you?'

Truly, the world was unfair. Isabella had beauty, talent, and sociability, but when she came to her senses, she had already been relegated to second place behind her cold and ugly sister. Considering her former prestige, Isabella’s current social status was miserable. She was not even as good as her brother Ippolito. 

“Miss Isabella, it’s been a long time...” 

There was only one letter on her desk that was the same as before. It was from Sir Iacopo Attendolo, who had once given Isabella a diamond ring as a reward for guiding her.

'Even Iacopo Attendolo is looking at my liver now!'

Sir Attendolo sent a roundabout letter. It was a letter asking how she was doing, and what her plans were for mid-March since the ball was on March 17th. He wanted to go to the ball with Isabella, but he didn't want to risk the humiliation of being rejected by her, so he sent a letter like this!

“You brat, you have no courage!”

Isabella pounded the table in anger. But it was clearly an unjustified anger. Iacopo Attendolo was more courageous than any knight in San Carlo at the moment. Isabella could not objectively see how far her reputation had fallen. Or perhaps she knew it but did not want to admit it.

Knock knock. 

It was the postman who knocked on the door of the girls' drawing room.

“Miss. A letter has arrived for you.”

Isabella's face, which had been in a very low mood, suddenly brightened. If not Iacopo Attendolo, maybe a more sane gentleman had sent her a request for a partner!

“Which gentleman sent this letter?”

The postman nervously handed over the envelope, keeping an eye on Isabella.

“That’s... It seems like a lady, not a gentleman...”

Isabella was very offended at the mention of a letter from a woman. Leticia, or something useless, she muttered and received an envelope. The envelope, decorated with silver foil, read as follows: "From Lady Isabella de Mare. Compensation to the Count Bartolini family."  

“What is this, why is it so loud?”

Isabella's mouth broke into a smile. 'Compensation for the Count Bartolini family'? Could it be that this was a letter from the Count himself, not the Countess? Did he sense his wife's infidelity and send it because he wanted to hear the whole story? 

If Countess Bartolini had already been found out by her husband, Isabella had nothing to lose. As rumors of the Countess's infidelity or divorce spread, the Marquis of Campa's mistress would naturally be revealed. 

Count Bartolini, the husband would be in charge of gathering people and spreading rumors. Isabella didn't need to be suspected and bring up the past. If that happened, this damned stigma would be removed right away. However, what she opened the envelope and took out was not the Count's but the Countess's invitation. 

"Dear Isabella de Mare, I haven't heard from you in a while, but you contacted me first. Would you like to meet me later in the morning on the 5th? - Clemente de Bartolini." 

Well, that was also good. Isabella's smile grew wider. The date Countess Bartolini had given was only two days later. That was too soon a date to invite her to tea. Moreover, the time she had given was not a time when guests were usually invited.

'It seems that she checked the time after receiving my letter. It turned out that this was the only time on which there was no day.'

Countess Bartolini must have been very distressed.

'Yeah, you're probably scared of what I'm going to say. I'd rather get hit first, you know.'

Isabella smiled and looked at the servant.

“There is no need to write a letter. Send someone and tell her that I will come and see her on the day she told me to.”

Verbal confirmation, rather than a written reply, was a method of reply used only by those who were sure that the other party would not forget their promise. It was also the way it was done by very close friends or by superiors to subordinates. Isabella stretched.

'It doesn't matter if things go to the left or to the right, if this isn't a flower-playing group, then what is a flower-playing group?'

*** 

Ariadne was looking at her ledger at home when she received an unexpected message.

“Miss, the messenger who just arrived asked me to give you this note.”

The servant added.

“If I were you, I would have stopped you at my own risk, but I won’t reveal who he is, he looks very classy and has a nice head, so I brought him here just in case.”

Ariadne unfolded the note the servant had handed her. 

"I have an outside schedule all of a suddenCan you come by an hour later? The location is Centro Anima. The messenger sent by APS is Sir Elko, one of the escort knights. You can come under his escort."

Ariadne's expression brightened and she praised the servant. Her heart pounded.

“It was good that you brought it. I’m going out for a moment, so tell the messenger downstairs to wait and not return.”

“Shall I call the carriage?”

Ariadne hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

“Okay. Let’s take a black, inconspicuous carriage. The coachman... Bring Giuseppe.”

She was not picky about the number of people she would accompany her. She rarely singled out even the coachman, so the servant looked up at Ariadne. She urged the servant on.

“The messenger can’t leave. Hurry up!”

After kicking the servant's butt and sending him out, she took care of her own body.

“Bring Sancha and Anna. Quickly!”

It was Sancha, who was in charge of Ariadne's attire, and Anna, who was in charge of her makeup. They had already lost track of time. Considering the time it took to get from Cardinal de Mare's residence to Centro Anima, they had only about 35 minutes to get ready. 

Ariadne urged them to hurry up and get ready. While Anna was doing her makeup, she discussed with Sancha what to wear.

“Miss, are you going to wear... mourning clothes?”

Since she was going to hide her identity anyway, was there really a need to wear mourning clothes...? 

Ariadne felt tempted for a moment but decided to hold back. It was foolish to plan everything based on the assumption that 'I wouldn't get caught'. There was always a chance of failure in anything. It would be absolutely unacceptable to be caught having a secret meeting with Prince Alfonso, and it would be a disaster if she did, but it was something that humans could not do anything about. 

However, the rumor that she wasn't wearing mourning clothes during the secret meeting could have been avoided if she tried.

“Yeah. As refreshing as possible.”

Ariadne replied with a light sigh. Ariadne, who had grown elegantly in a short time, put on a veil that covered her face and a French hood that hid all her hair and went out through the front door of the de Marais mansion.

There was a black carriage waiting there, and a young man with gray hair and a black suit she had never seen before was waiting beside it. Ariadne looked at him with a smile.

“You are the Lord Elko. Your master did not tell you your last name.”


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