Chapter 295 - Isabella's Bad Afternoon



“...Hey, Isabella.”

The young lady, Viscountess Letizia de Leonati, who had been invited for the first time as a friend of Countess Contarini to the Contarini mansion, pointed out cautiously.

“...First of all, no one knows that you came out of the Convent of Sanit Angelo.”

"Ah."

“To invite Count and Countess Contarini.”

There seems to be a bit of a problem.

“Because Camellia was a former candidate for Countess Contarini.”

"Ah."

“If that hadn’t happened, of course, she would have invited you. Who would want to throw a party without Isabella? But... If you think about it... Right?”

Leticia's remark was something strange, neither flattery nor sarcasm, a combination of a flattering fart to please Isabella and a voice in her heart that said, "Would you call me?"

But Isabella understood the gist.

"Ah."

“Besides, even if she knew you were a nun, if she were to invite you, she would have to invite you as a couple. Then, she would be showing her ex-fiancé in front of her current husband. How can she live with her husband like that?”

Aside from that, Camellia would have been more than happy to chew on Isabella's shadow, so there's no way she'd have put her on the guest list, but she didn't bother to point that out.

Isabella pursed her lips.

It was ridiculous that she couldn't attend the most prestigious wedding in San Carlo, and now she was the Countess of Contarini.

“I want to go to the party!”

Isabella stretched out on the sofa, hugging her swollen belly. It was getting really late and she was having trouble moving, but she couldn't help feeling a little tingly.

“I’m sick of this life in exile!”

Leticia realized that the advice for pregnant women to stay home and recuperate was out of the question, so she instead recommended a compromise.

“Then, instead of just staying at home, how about trying to get out and socialize a bit?”

Rumors were going around that Ottavio was married, but it was not known who his wife was.

If it were known that the veiled Countess Contarini was none other than Isabella de Mare, who had been banished to a convent after falling out with Duke Cesare, quite a few would have declined to associate with Ottavio's new wife, but if it were said that she was the wife of the young Count Contarini who had now entered the cabinet, quite a few invitations would have been received.

“Like a tea party, something you can sit through and it doesn’t take too long.”

"...Should I do something like that?”

Isabella answered reluctantly.

Since it was unknown who 'Countess Contarini' was, she wanted to make a grand appearance at a bigger event rather than a trivial tea party.

Whether it's at an opera house where a premiere is taking place, or at a royal ball, it would be really awesome if she took her new Moorish swordsman with her as her escort knight.

“Yeah. I have to be careful. I have a baby.”

Isabella looked down at her bulging belly with resentful eyes. If only this hadn't happened, how much fun I could be having right now!

There was no awareness that what was in that boat had saved her from the convent.

***

The 'business that will soon arise for me, requiring the assistance of a young lady' that Duchess Rubina had previously mentioned to Ottavio was in fact the preparations for the debutante party of Princess Bianca of Taranto.

This is because Duchess Rubina was expected to take on the role of Princess Bianca's guardian, and she would be in charge of everything from preparing for the party to acting as a chaperone at the party.

This is something that was originally supposed to be done by Princess Bianca's mother.

However, since both of the princess's parents passed away at a young age, Princess Bianca had no other adult female relative to take on the job other than Duchess Rubina, the de facto wife of her uncle, Leo III.

“How can you entrust such an important matter to ‘that woman’?!”

A hoarse voice resonated through the narrow study in the corner of the Taranto Castle.

This was the office of the young Viscount Gennarosso, who took care of the daily affairs of the household in the absence of the master.

“No, Cyril. Please don’t speak so angrily.”

The person whom Viscount Gennaroso was pleading with was Baroness Giannelli, Princess Bianca's wet nurse and the most powerful figure in the Taranto Castle.

“This isn’t a situation where we can specify who we want to do something to, right?”

Viscount Gennarosso tried to persuade Baroness Giannelli.

“Since Duchess Rubina has been in the capital for a long time, she must be well-informed of the trends and such, and she would prepare something that would suit our Princess well, wouldn’t she?”

“But! The government! Even if I die! No!”

Baroness Giannelli, a devout Catholic and a proud woman of her life who had raised her three children successfully while enduring her husband's foolishness was resolute.

“I can’t even stand having that woman’s name mentioned in the same sentence as my precious Princess!”

“Oh my gosh...”

After the death of his father, who had been in charge of the estate alongside the former Duke of Taranto, the young Viscount Gennaroso was left to deal with the affairs of the estate, which were not up to the task.

Baroness Giannelli had been the Duke and Duchess' closest confidant since they were alive, and was now the Princess's nanny, at her side 24 hours a day.

Viscount Gennarosso had no chance against Baroness Giannelli.

“Viscount Gennarosso, talk to the high-ranking officials up north and make sure that woman doesn’t touch our Princess’s debutante party!”

“Please save me...”

“It’s a must!”

***

Isabella only half-accepted Leticia's advice.

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't give up the dream of a beautiful and splendid official event where she would appear and say, "Tch!" as the Countess Contarini.

She wanted to show the entire capital and her father who had driven her out, that she was doing just fine without him.

So she decided to postpone her official debut until after she gave birth and got in shape, and compromised by going out in secret for the time being.

“Yes! This is it!”

She felt like she was going to die when she commandeered Ottavio's carriage and set off for the luxury shops of San Carlo.

When the lady of the noble family looked at the items, the shopkeepers would take the items home to show them, so surprisingly, it was rare for noble ladies to show up at the store.

It was killing two birds with one stone for Isabella, as she didn't have to meet anyone.

'I don't have to meet anyone I know, I have a change of pace, and I go shopping. It's perfect.'

The coachman asked Isabella, who was praising her own good judgment.

“Madam, there are two ways to get to Centro Anima. Should we go over the Porsenna hill or take Via Antonini?”

Isabella thought, 'Don't ask me about such useless things', just let the groom take care of it.

But since the Contarini family was still in the process of managing their image, she answered kindly.

“Hmm? Which way is faster?”

“Understood, Ma’am.”

It took Isabella some time to realize that the question was too important for the coachman to choose and that she had made a mistake.

She realized this fact when she was already unable to make a decision.

The reason she realized that fact was simple.

The coachman began to drive the carriage up the hill, the beginning of which was eerily familiar.

'...This is... This is the road to Villa Sortone.'

Villa Sortone, Cesare's home.

The opportunity to become a Duchess that Isabella had blown right before her eyes was now alive and breathing right before her eyes.

As the carriage climbed further and further up the hill and drew closer to Villa Sortone, Isabella's mood grew worse.

The verdant green of the Porsenna hills was beautiful. Isabella climbed these vibrant greens many times, imagining her bright future as a Duchess.

After climbing the hill, her mood became doubly bad, because the magnificent yet refreshing view of Villa Sortone unfolded before her.

Compared to the Villa Sortone, reputed to be the most beautiful in San Carlo, the Contarini Villa where she came to live looked like a run-down tenement house.

She recalled how things had gone wrong with Cesare.

“Why should I be responsible for you for playing around with my butt? Aren’t you the famous ‘Marquis of Campa’s mistress’?”

Of course, it was just an excuse that Cesare could barely come up with, as he did not like Isabella or the way she had seduced him.

But Isabella was more inclined to blame others than to believe that the cause of the wrongdoing was her own, for unjustly tying up Cesare.

'Camellia de Castiglione.'

If that damn bitch hadn't opened her mouth, that mansion would have been Isabella's by now.

The carriage continued on, and as it neared the street of luxury shops, Isabella's mood seemed to improve a little.

'Well, Ottavio doesn't act like a jerk.'

Up until now, Ottavio had been a good husband. He was the same age as Isabella, had his eyes on her, and was handsome, so he wasn't bad.

Above all, compared to her father, who always pressured her mother with the household account book, Ottavio was an angel.

'I guess I'll try matching jewels today.'

Because her body shape had changed a lot, she didn't want to wear clothes that fit her. Her feet were swollen, so the same was true for shoes.

Naturally, her eyes were drawn to jewels and precious metals. If Ottavio had known, it would have been a situation where his teeth would have tingled.

"Welcome-!!"

Isabella entered the store with a polite greeting from the clerk. When she was the youngest daughter of the de Mare family, she had not been to places like this often, so it felt even more refreshing and new.

“I want to see it as a tourmaline, but in pink...”

As Isabella spoke like that, she realized that there were other customers in the store besides her.

Unlike when she was at home looking at their own private collection, which was prepared just for her, in the store other customers were looking at the items.

“Can I really buy this, Ferdi?”

“Well, we’re getting married soon. It’s like buying it for my wife.”

They appeared to be a couple, a wealthy merchant and his fiancée.

After the end of the Great Black Death, it was a time when merchants who had made a lot of money by selling good items began to appear one after another.

Those people, whose manners and speech were inferior to the clothes they wore, seemed to be the type of people who took advantage of this opportunity to become rich overnight.

'I can't believe I'm in the same place as those guys.'

The good mood that had finally lifted after seeing the jewel was starting to subside again.

Fortunately, what the couple saw were tiny freshwater pearl earrings, a far cry from the exquisite jewels Isabella saw.

'Yes, it's absurd for a merchant like that and a noble like me to use the same items.'

It was a time when her mood was on the edge of improving.

“By the way, Ferdi. Did you hear about CEO Caruso’s wedding?”

“Ah, the Bocanegro Company? Of course, I’ve heard of it. I’ve never heard of or seen such a grand wedding. It’s the talk of the town!”

It was a story about Camellia's wedding. Even though Isabella didn't want to hear it, her ears perked up.

“I heard the wedding will be held at the Duke of Taranto’s mansion and that the food will be prepared by the palace chef himself?”

“Oh my God!”

“They’re buying all the wine currently on the market. It’s on a huge scale. I wonder how many guests they plan on inviting.”

“All my friends talk about is that story. The priest is well-connected in the San Carlo society, so a lot of high-ranking people come to see him! The Marquis of Monte Carlo and his wife...”

The female member of the merchant couple rattled off names Isabella was familiar with.

Some were people Isabella knew or had known, others were people she had wanted to become close to but had never had the chance to.

The couple of the Marquis of Monte Carlo are Gabriele and his wife. Isabella has never met Gabriele's husband.

“Oh Ferdi, how could you not be invited? It would be such a shame not to be able to attend this wedding of the century!”

“I will do my best. Don’t cry, Eldar, the most lovely person in my world.”

She was a newlywed who was also very upset, but she couldn't help but say, "This is so annoying." Her husband wasn't here with her right now, but seeing them like that made her feel worse and worse.

Isabella wanted to go home, even though it was all jewels. It was the moment Isabella was walking towards the store exit.

Tinkle!

The door to the shop opened and the decorative doorbell rang. She turned her head in that direction.

“...!”

It was a day of great luck. Isabella almost shouted, 'Why are you here...!' but barely managed to bite her tongue and hold it back.

Because he was someone she didn't even want to talk to.

“Marquis! Thank you for visiting us again today!”

The clerk ran to the front door and took the coat of the new customer, the Marquis of Campa, with both hands.

“The cufflinks you ordered back then are packed inside! Come this way!”

The day she went happened to be a market day, and the place she visited was a graveyard.

The Marquis of Campa, who couldn't find a reputation that would fall even if he tried to find it, was standing there, walking in and out of the main store like a merchant, not caring about what other people thought.

Although some time had passed, Isabella de Mare was still a prominent figure in San Carlo society, no matter what anyone said.

There was no direct acquaintance between the Marquis of Campa and Isabella, but he recognized her at once.

The Marquis of Campa looked at Isabella and smirked disgustedly.

It was a smile that seemed to ask, 'Hey, how's the lover I've only heard rumors about?' It looked twice as dirty with the rotten canines showing.

'Hey you shit!'

Isabella cursed inwardly, the harsh words she had first learned from her half-sister and honed during her exile in the monastery.

The jeweler, noticed that the two customers were acting suspiciously, hurriedly, and kindly guided the Marquis of Campa inside.

Another employee stood next to Isabella, trying to talk to her kindly and show her more items. But Isabella didn't see anything.

Isabella's life was ruined by the false rumor that she was the 'concubine of the Marquis of Campa'.

Camellia de Castiglione, the person who started that false rumor, is getting married in a grand ceremony this Saturday.

'Don't leave it alone.'

She can't stand to see that fucking bitch living well.

'You dare to shed tears from my eyes? I will shed tears of blood from yours!'

Isabella decided to attend Camellia de Castiglione's wedding.


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