The father and daughter each acted in their own way. It was the father's actions that became visible first.
“Your Excellency the Marquis Baldesar, Cardinal de Mare wishes to see you.”
“Me?”
Raphael, who was summoned by Cardinal de Mare to the Basilica of Saint Ercole, was deeply troubled.
'Why on earth did His Eminence the Cardinal want to see me...?'
Although Raphael was a student of theology and a member of the theological society that gathered promising future members of the Church of the Holy See, he was too young to have an exclusive meeting with Cardinal de Mare, the representative of the entire Etruscan diocese.
In the end, he came to the conclusion that the Cardinal must have called him because of something he had besides his own accomplishments, like being a member of the Marquis Baldessar family or his friendship with the Cardinal's daughter.
And he looked one step ahead from there.
'If it's something related to our family, you would have spoken through my father. So in the end, it's something related to Ari.'
And Raphael's prediction was right on target.
“...So, I would like you to help me convince my daughter.”
"Yes?"
But the story that Cardinal de Mare told was far beyond Raphael's expectations.
“You will tell her to marry Duke Cesare.”
Cardinal de Mare stroked his beard as he sat before the young man with a pale expression.
“That is...”
The silver-haired rascal, Raphael de Baldessar, worked hard to keep his expression in check.
But to the old Cardinal de Mare's eyes, it was clear that the young man wanted to reject his offer.
“I have no intention of marrying my daughter off to anyone other than the royal family.”
The Cardinal spoke as if driving a wedge into the ground.
“This child doesn’t listen to me at all. Aren’t you close with our Ari? Go and persuade her.”
Raphael was in an inner agony.
Although Ariadne had no idea, Raphael was secretly known in high society as the "muso terribile" (the beak of terror).
This is especially true among male peers, who spew out harsh words without regard for context.
If Cardinal de Mare had been a friend of the same age, Raphael would have just stuck his tongue out at him and said, "Stop talking nonsense."
There was so much to swear at that his palms were sweating with anticipation, not knowing where to start.
But the other person is Ariadne's father.
Not only is he the father of the woman he likes, whom he must look good to marry, but he is also a big shot who is holding up Raphael's path to success if he follows through with his original life plan, which has now become Plan B.
Whichever way he chooses, it's not easy to go against his opinion. Raphael's lips trembled.
The Cardinal looked at Raphael, who was unable to answer, and was secretly pleased that his intuition was right.
In his view, the young man clearly had dark intentions toward his daughter. And his second daughter, too, had some human affection for him.
From that kid's perspective, he probably thought he just had to push a little harder.
The Cardinal intended to tell him, you won't be able to lay a finger on my daughter, so get out of here.
“I have my carriage ready now. If you go to my house, I will let you in right away. Ariadne is at home. Go up and talk to her right away.”
Raphael eventually lowered his head. In fact, he thought he should answer verbally, but his mouth wouldn't open.
The Cardinal seemed satisfied with even that level of submission.
He was always the kind of person who just wanted to achieve the results he wanted efficiently, and he didn't enjoy humiliating others along the way.
But he needed to let his opponent know what cards he was holding. The Cardinal asked in passing.
“Oh, right. I heard that your reading test results were very good.”
Students who graduated from the seminary in Padua took the examination for the position of reader at the Holy See immediately after graduation.
The ministry of lector was the position of being able to read the Bible during Mass and was the first step toward becoming a priest.
“Thank you.”
It was not something that someone as high as a Cardinal would know in detail. He had deliberately looked into it about Raphael de Baldessar.
“Do your parents know that you took the test?”
It was a question he asked knowing full well that Raphael was now the only son of the Baldessar family after his older brother died.
If Raphael became a priest, the family would be transferred to a collateral branch, so if the Marquis Baldessar couple had known, they would never have let it happen.
“... They probably don’t know yet.”
Raphael answered with a trembling voice. The Cardinal spoke with tenderness and delicacy.
“Yes, that could be so. The path to finding the truth is a difficult one, and parents, regardless of their sincerity in faith, sometimes do not welcome their children walking that path.”
He added with a smile.
“But it’s a path worth taking.”
So, please hurry and return to the Holy Nation and get out of my daughter's presence. I won't tell your parents.
The Cardinal, having said all he had to say, issued an order to excommunicate Raphael.
“Then go out.”
“...”
“The horses are waiting.”
“...Yes.”
Raphael sat in the rocking carriage, wondering what he should say to Ariadne when he met her.
'I would like you to marry Duke Cesare.'
It was a story he didn't want to tell even though his mouth was torn.
It was disgusting in itself to encourage a woman he liked to marry another man, but it was even worse when that person was Cesare.
Cesare was a blatant philanderer and a scoundrel who did not care about the consequences.
Raphael, who had known Cesare since he was a child, knew that most of the opinions about him circulating in high society were true.
He was easily angered and had no faith. What kind of father in the world would marry his daughter off to such a man?
“Come on in.”
As he was led into Ariadne's room by the housekeeper, Raphael came to the conclusion that he could not possibly do as Cardinal de Mare had told him.
He decided to speak honestly.
'Your father asked me to convince you. But I don't think that's right.'
Yeah, that was the way.
Raphael knocked softly on the door of Ariadne's study.
Knock knock.
But there was no answer from inside. He knocked on the door again.
Knock knock.
But there was no answer from the owner of the room even after making another noise.
Eventually, Raphael decided to push open the slightly open door and invite himself into Ariadne's study.
“Ari...?”
The owner of the room was asleep.
An early summer breeze blew gently through the open window, shaking the linen curtains, and a slender girl was lying face down on the huge wooden desk right in front of it, using her arms as a pillow. It was a picturesque moment.
Raphael smiled. He went back behind Ariadne's desk and closed the open window.
“Then you catch a cold.”
No one was listening, but he spoke softly to himself. Sleeping face down was also not good for the health of the neck and shoulders.
He intended to wake Ariadne up by going to the sofa. He shook her gently on the back.
“Ari, Ari. Wake up.”
But she seemed to be in a deep sleep and did not move at all. He released her arms, which were resting on the pillow. It was the perfect position for a mouse to crawl into.
“Get up and go to the sofa to sleep.”
He grabbed her left hand and pulled her towards him.
Because she was sleeping face down, her gloves were pushed up a little to her fingertips, and her thin, mid-season silk gloves were slippery because of the material.
Ariadne was carried by Raphael's hand, and the clothes she was holding slipped off and fell off on their own.
“!”
Raphael looked at Ariadne with astonishment.
The area below his left elbow would be so red that you'd think it had just been dipped in fresh blood.
It would have been better if it had been red all over, even if blood was dripping down.
Her entire left hand was blotchy and had varying shades of color, and was tangled in high and low areas, as if she had suffered a terrible burn.
The further it got to her elbows, the more it looked like new burns, and the deeper and more festering the wounds looked like old burns towards her fingertips.
“!”
And Raphael was surprised again.
Ariadne, who had just woken up, was staring at his unmanaged, nakedly frightened face, dumbfounded.
“Ari...”
Raphael picked it up absentmindedly.
“No, that’s not what I was trying to see...”
Ariadne quickly snatched the gloves from Raphael's hands and ran to a corner of the study.
She had her left hand hidden behind her back. Tears filled her large green eyes.
“Ari, I’m sorry.”
Raphael waved his hands in embarrassment.
“I came in suddenly... That’s because the Cardinal sent me here, but I didn’t come into the room without listening to the owner’s answer.”
Raphael apologized for everything in a chaotic manner. Ariadne's first words, barely able to open her mouth, flew towards Raphael and struck him.
He didn't know why, but these words made Raphael's heart ache more than ever.
“Oh my God.”
He covered his face with both hands. He wanted to go over and hug Ariadne.
“That’s not it.”
It would have been closer to the truth to say that he was only momentarily surprised, but the hurt look on Ariadne's face made it impossible for him to even say that.
It was true that he was surprised when he saw her hand, and honestly, it was also true that he thought it was disgusting.
“That hand... How did it happen?”
Raphael and Ariadne could share most secrets, but not this one. Ariadne remained silent.
Raphael felt guilty for even asking.
“Sorry... If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t ask.”
Silence fell between them.
The heavy, humid air seemed to symbolize the ocean that Raphael had to swim across to reach Ariadne.
After a long silence, it was Ariadne who spoke first.
“Secret... you’ll keep it, right?”
Her face was a mixture of earnestness and melancholy. Raphael nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course.”
This was all he could do.
“Until the day I die, I will never tell anyone about your hand.”
Truly, it was a sincere expression from the bottom of his heart. Ariadne smiled faintly, perhaps sensing Raphael’s feelings.
“I will believe you.”
Raphael smiled in relief. Ariadne bowed her head slightly. All she could do now was believe.
Ariadne hated entrusting her life to someone else more than dying.
She couldn't trust her fiancé from her past life, nor her father. Could she trust Raphael? Only time will tell.
“Come here, come here.”
Raphael spoke cautiously to Ariadne, who was still standing in one corner of the study.
“Sit comfortably. Don’t be like that in your room. I’m like the owner of the room.”
Ariadne nodded.
Raphael was so out of it that he completely forgot about the errand Cardinal de Mare had sent him on, or the tidbit.
Just then, there was a noise outside her study.
Ariadne was startled and put the glove on her left hand. But in her haste, the glove did not fit well on her hand.
The left hand, which looked like a red burn scar or a skin disease, moved.
Raphael debated whether he should look at the figure, whether it would be more comfortable for her to turn his head away, or whether it would actually hurt her.
"Miss."
But fortunately, the owner of the voice was Sancha. Ariadne stopped trying to put on her gloves in a hurry and answered in a relieved voice.
“What’s wrong, Sancha?”
There was a hint of anxiety in Sancha's voice.
“Miss. You should come out.”
Ariadne asked back.
"Now?"
“Yes. A document from His Majesty the King has arrived on the first floor. It’s not being read aloud like last time, but rather a letter, so I think you should receive it in person.”
This was something that could not be delayed. Ariadne put on her gloves and tidied herself up, and went downstairs, and Raphael followed her.
On the first floor, they found the King's attendant holding an envelope of parchment, too large and ornate to be a letter, and heavily embroidered with gold leaf.
The King's attendant delivered His Majesty the King's letter to her according to courtly etiquette, and after Ariadne received the letter in due course, she broke the seal and took out its contents.
Compared to its flashy appearance, the contents were extremely simple.
Inside was just one sheet of parchment, with just two lines of text written on it.
"I accept Countess de Mare's request and permit the breakup of the engagement.
- Leo III."
The daughter's behind-the-scenes actions also bore fruit.
“Your Excellency the Marquis Baldesar, Cardinal de Mare wishes to see you.”
“Me?”
Raphael, who was summoned by Cardinal de Mare to the Basilica of Saint Ercole, was deeply troubled.
'Why on earth did His Eminence the Cardinal want to see me...?'
Although Raphael was a student of theology and a member of the theological society that gathered promising future members of the Church of the Holy See, he was too young to have an exclusive meeting with Cardinal de Mare, the representative of the entire Etruscan diocese.
In the end, he came to the conclusion that the Cardinal must have called him because of something he had besides his own accomplishments, like being a member of the Marquis Baldessar family or his friendship with the Cardinal's daughter.
And he looked one step ahead from there.
'If it's something related to our family, you would have spoken through my father. So in the end, it's something related to Ari.'
And Raphael's prediction was right on target.
“...So, I would like you to help me convince my daughter.”
"Yes?"
But the story that Cardinal de Mare told was far beyond Raphael's expectations.
“You will tell her to marry Duke Cesare.”
Cardinal de Mare stroked his beard as he sat before the young man with a pale expression.
“That is...”
The silver-haired rascal, Raphael de Baldessar, worked hard to keep his expression in check.
But to the old Cardinal de Mare's eyes, it was clear that the young man wanted to reject his offer.
“I have no intention of marrying my daughter off to anyone other than the royal family.”
The Cardinal spoke as if driving a wedge into the ground.
“This child doesn’t listen to me at all. Aren’t you close with our Ari? Go and persuade her.”
Raphael was in an inner agony.
Although Ariadne had no idea, Raphael was secretly known in high society as the "muso terribile" (the beak of terror).
This is especially true among male peers, who spew out harsh words without regard for context.
If Cardinal de Mare had been a friend of the same age, Raphael would have just stuck his tongue out at him and said, "Stop talking nonsense."
There was so much to swear at that his palms were sweating with anticipation, not knowing where to start.
But the other person is Ariadne's father.
Not only is he the father of the woman he likes, whom he must look good to marry, but he is also a big shot who is holding up Raphael's path to success if he follows through with his original life plan, which has now become Plan B.
Whichever way he chooses, it's not easy to go against his opinion. Raphael's lips trembled.
The Cardinal looked at Raphael, who was unable to answer, and was secretly pleased that his intuition was right.
In his view, the young man clearly had dark intentions toward his daughter. And his second daughter, too, had some human affection for him.
From that kid's perspective, he probably thought he just had to push a little harder.
The Cardinal intended to tell him, you won't be able to lay a finger on my daughter, so get out of here.
“I have my carriage ready now. If you go to my house, I will let you in right away. Ariadne is at home. Go up and talk to her right away.”
Raphael eventually lowered his head. In fact, he thought he should answer verbally, but his mouth wouldn't open.
The Cardinal seemed satisfied with even that level of submission.
He was always the kind of person who just wanted to achieve the results he wanted efficiently, and he didn't enjoy humiliating others along the way.
But he needed to let his opponent know what cards he was holding. The Cardinal asked in passing.
“Oh, right. I heard that your reading test results were very good.”
Students who graduated from the seminary in Padua took the examination for the position of reader at the Holy See immediately after graduation.
The ministry of lector was the position of being able to read the Bible during Mass and was the first step toward becoming a priest.
“Thank you.”
It was not something that someone as high as a Cardinal would know in detail. He had deliberately looked into it about Raphael de Baldessar.
“Do your parents know that you took the test?”
It was a question he asked knowing full well that Raphael was now the only son of the Baldessar family after his older brother died.
If Raphael became a priest, the family would be transferred to a collateral branch, so if the Marquis Baldessar couple had known, they would never have let it happen.
“... They probably don’t know yet.”
Raphael answered with a trembling voice. The Cardinal spoke with tenderness and delicacy.
“Yes, that could be so. The path to finding the truth is a difficult one, and parents, regardless of their sincerity in faith, sometimes do not welcome their children walking that path.”
He added with a smile.
“But it’s a path worth taking.”
So, please hurry and return to the Holy Nation and get out of my daughter's presence. I won't tell your parents.
The Cardinal, having said all he had to say, issued an order to excommunicate Raphael.
“Then go out.”
“...”
“The horses are waiting.”
“...Yes.”
***
Raphael sat in the rocking carriage, wondering what he should say to Ariadne when he met her.
'I would like you to marry Duke Cesare.'
It was a story he didn't want to tell even though his mouth was torn.
It was disgusting in itself to encourage a woman he liked to marry another man, but it was even worse when that person was Cesare.
Cesare was a blatant philanderer and a scoundrel who did not care about the consequences.
Raphael, who had known Cesare since he was a child, knew that most of the opinions about him circulating in high society were true.
He was easily angered and had no faith. What kind of father in the world would marry his daughter off to such a man?
“Come on in.”
As he was led into Ariadne's room by the housekeeper, Raphael came to the conclusion that he could not possibly do as Cardinal de Mare had told him.
He decided to speak honestly.
'Your father asked me to convince you. But I don't think that's right.'
Yeah, that was the way.
Raphael knocked softly on the door of Ariadne's study.
Knock knock.
But there was no answer from inside. He knocked on the door again.
Knock knock.
But there was no answer from the owner of the room even after making another noise.
Eventually, Raphael decided to push open the slightly open door and invite himself into Ariadne's study.
“Ari...?”
The owner of the room was asleep.
An early summer breeze blew gently through the open window, shaking the linen curtains, and a slender girl was lying face down on the huge wooden desk right in front of it, using her arms as a pillow. It was a picturesque moment.
Raphael smiled. He went back behind Ariadne's desk and closed the open window.
“Then you catch a cold.”
No one was listening, but he spoke softly to himself. Sleeping face down was also not good for the health of the neck and shoulders.
He intended to wake Ariadne up by going to the sofa. He shook her gently on the back.
“Ari, Ari. Wake up.”
But she seemed to be in a deep sleep and did not move at all. He released her arms, which were resting on the pillow. It was the perfect position for a mouse to crawl into.
“Get up and go to the sofa to sleep.”
He grabbed her left hand and pulled her towards him.
Because she was sleeping face down, her gloves were pushed up a little to her fingertips, and her thin, mid-season silk gloves were slippery because of the material.
Ariadne was carried by Raphael's hand, and the clothes she was holding slipped off and fell off on their own.
“!”
Raphael looked at Ariadne with astonishment.
The area below his left elbow would be so red that you'd think it had just been dipped in fresh blood.
It would have been better if it had been red all over, even if blood was dripping down.
Her entire left hand was blotchy and had varying shades of color, and was tangled in high and low areas, as if she had suffered a terrible burn.
The further it got to her elbows, the more it looked like new burns, and the deeper and more festering the wounds looked like old burns towards her fingertips.
“!”
And Raphael was surprised again.
Ariadne, who had just woken up, was staring at his unmanaged, nakedly frightened face, dumbfounded.
“Ari...”
Raphael picked it up absentmindedly.
“No, that’s not what I was trying to see...”
Ariadne quickly snatched the gloves from Raphael's hands and ran to a corner of the study.
She had her left hand hidden behind her back. Tears filled her large green eyes.
“Ari, I’m sorry.”
Raphael waved his hands in embarrassment.
“I came in suddenly... That’s because the Cardinal sent me here, but I didn’t come into the room without listening to the owner’s answer.”
Raphael apologized for everything in a chaotic manner. Ariadne's first words, barely able to open her mouth, flew towards Raphael and struck him.
“Oh, I'm not moving it⋯⋯.”
“Oh my God.”
He covered his face with both hands. He wanted to go over and hug Ariadne.
“That’s not it.”
It would have been closer to the truth to say that he was only momentarily surprised, but the hurt look on Ariadne's face made it impossible for him to even say that.
It was true that he was surprised when he saw her hand, and honestly, it was also true that he thought it was disgusting.
“That hand... How did it happen?”
Raphael and Ariadne could share most secrets, but not this one. Ariadne remained silent.
Raphael felt guilty for even asking.
“Sorry... If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t ask.”
Silence fell between them.
The heavy, humid air seemed to symbolize the ocean that Raphael had to swim across to reach Ariadne.
After a long silence, it was Ariadne who spoke first.
“Secret... you’ll keep it, right?”
Her face was a mixture of earnestness and melancholy. Raphael nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course.”
This was all he could do.
“Until the day I die, I will never tell anyone about your hand.”
Truly, it was a sincere expression from the bottom of his heart. Ariadne smiled faintly, perhaps sensing Raphael’s feelings.
“I will believe you.”
Raphael smiled in relief. Ariadne bowed her head slightly. All she could do now was believe.
Ariadne hated entrusting her life to someone else more than dying.
She couldn't trust her fiancé from her past life, nor her father. Could she trust Raphael? Only time will tell.
“Come here, come here.”
Raphael spoke cautiously to Ariadne, who was still standing in one corner of the study.
“Sit comfortably. Don’t be like that in your room. I’m like the owner of the room.”
Ariadne nodded.
Raphael was so out of it that he completely forgot about the errand Cardinal de Mare had sent him on, or the tidbit.
Just then, there was a noise outside her study.
Ariadne was startled and put the glove on her left hand. But in her haste, the glove did not fit well on her hand.
The left hand, which looked like a red burn scar or a skin disease, moved.
Raphael debated whether he should look at the figure, whether it would be more comfortable for her to turn his head away, or whether it would actually hurt her.
"Miss."
But fortunately, the owner of the voice was Sancha. Ariadne stopped trying to put on her gloves in a hurry and answered in a relieved voice.
“What’s wrong, Sancha?”
There was a hint of anxiety in Sancha's voice.
“Miss. You should come out.”
Ariadne asked back.
"Now?"
“Yes. A document from His Majesty the King has arrived on the first floor. It’s not being read aloud like last time, but rather a letter, so I think you should receive it in person.”
This was something that could not be delayed. Ariadne put on her gloves and tidied herself up, and went downstairs, and Raphael followed her.
On the first floor, they found the King's attendant holding an envelope of parchment, too large and ornate to be a letter, and heavily embroidered with gold leaf.
The King's attendant delivered His Majesty the King's letter to her according to courtly etiquette, and after Ariadne received the letter in due course, she broke the seal and took out its contents.
Compared to its flashy appearance, the contents were extremely simple.
Inside was just one sheet of parchment, with just two lines of text written on it.
"I accept Countess de Mare's request and permit the breakup of the engagement.
- Leo III."
The daughter's behind-the-scenes actions also bore fruit.
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