A look of confusion crossed the Cardinal's face for a moment.
'Isabella?'
As far as the Cardinal knew, his eldest daughter, Isabella, was living a quiet life in a convent.
'Suddenly?'
But Isabella was not at all quiet. Cesare had already established a considerable degree of rapport with Isabella herself.
The regent Cesare happened to encounter Isabella de Carlo, the widow of the late Crown Prince Alfonso, while hunting, still beautiful and more miserable than ever.
The King's hunting grounds were connected to the backyard of the convent where the young widow resided.
The poor former Crown Princess lost her way while out for a walk without an attendant, and after wandering aimlessly, she came face to face with the regent, Cesare.
If it weren't for Cesare, she would have frozen to death in the autumn forest. At least, that's what he believed.
Cesare, who saved the blonde beauty from trouble, often went hunting in that hunting ground after that.
While hunting, he also visited former royal family members who were in difficult situations as the head of the royal family.
He first ordered the treatment of the Crown Princess to be improved, and then sent her necessities such as sperm whale oil, which the convent could not obtain.
Then he wrote a personal letter and then...
The regent visited the hunting ground every weekend after the snow melted the following year. Their time was hot enough to melt even the eternal snow.
Then one day she whispered.
'Get me out of here.'
How?
Cesare did not intend to grant her wish from the beginning.
But a rift appeared when his steely-tempered, raven-haired future regent disagreed with him about providing aid to the poor in the winter.
And a golden throbbing seeped into the crack.
The opinion of the prospective regent was secretly valued among his subordinates. He was also fed up with it.
The fatigue that had built up on his shoulders when Ariadne insisted that the Marquis of Guatieri's men should not be employed was relieved by Isabella's slender fingers.
He felt that the massage was like that of a piano player playing a melody.
When Ariadne was unable to reconcile with the dead Queen's party and continued to clash with them, disgracing their reputation, the only thing she could think of was Isabella's face.
Absurd thoughts consumed him.
'Isabella de Mare was Alfonso's Queen, so wouldn't taking her as a wife help to appease the opposition of the nobles who were on Alfonso's side?'
He wanted to act that way, so he made up excuses and stuck to them.
And Isabella's wish only came out of Cesare's mouth when Cardinal de Mare made an outrageous demand, and when Cesare thought that if he did that, he could do something outrageous too.
It was a half-impulsive action. He responded to the Cardinal like a stubborn child.
'You did not mishear. It is Isabella de Mare.'
The Cardinal's mouth opened roundly, then closed without saying a word.
Ariadne was sure that the words 'What about Ariadne?' were about to come out of her father's mouth.
'Father, Father, please...!'
Ariadne knew the end of this story. Isabella, who had stolen her coronation, had grown up as the Queen and had come to the West Tower, where she was imprisoned.
Hot blood gushed out like a fountain. Isabella got what she wanted, and Ariadne died.
But deep down, she desperately begged and begged.
'Don't betray me. Father, Father, Father...!'
The Cardinal remained silent for a moment. Ariadne found the silence almost unbearable.
Cardinal de Mare was troubled by his younger daughter, his older daughter, their values, their personal lives, himself, his older daughter, his younger daughter, his eldest son, and the continuation of the family to which they all belonged.
In any case, Isabella was the widow of the deceased Crown Prince and had no natural right to the throne or lands, nor could she exercise guardianship over her children, who were the heirs to the throne.
In other words, remarriage with a good partner was difficult.
Isabella's new husband was not very different from the new husband Ariadne could have found.
In that case, it wouldn't be a bad idea to change it like this.
The Cardinal continued to ponder.
While the younger daughter was stuffy and had trouble communicating, the older daughter was quick-witted and relayed all her calculations to the de Mare family through her mother.
Moreover, since she is Ippolito's full sister, she will be more devoted to the family herself.
And Lucrezia's smiling face. Her face when she would go home, with a big smile on her face and a baby-like voice, showering him with rare compliments.
Cardinal de Mare, who had done all the calculations in a short time, answered shortly.
'Great.'
'Ah.'
Everything was understood.
So that's what happened.
This time, there was no relief from learning the truth. It felt like a wedge had been driven into Ariadne's chest. It was heartbreaking.
Is this pain real or imaginary?
One thing was certain: the tears shed in her dreams were shed in reality as well.
Ariadne opened her eyes, lying on the floor, her face covered in tears, slumped over the threshold of the door leading into the study.
“Hey, hey!”
Cardinal de Mare came running. He knelt beside the fallen Ariadne and looked at her.
Apparently, his younger daughter fell backwards at the same time that Ippolito was running at full speed.
It was due to the dizziness caused by the golden rule, but from where the Cardinal was standing, it seemed that Ariadne had been hurt by Ippolito pushing her.
After confirming that there was no bleeding or visible damage to Ariadne, the Cardinal shouted at Ippolito.
“Ip..polito...!!”
Ippolito looked back at Ariadne with a look of mingled anger and stupidity, like a bull that has lost its target.
The Cardinal glared at Ippolito with a fearsome look.
“What are you doing to your sister right now!!”
Ariadne collapsed on the Cardinal's lap and cried endlessly.
Even ten minutes ago, she would have been thrilled if her father had been as hostile to Ippolito as he is now for her sake.
But now that she knows the truth, she can't foolishly love him anymore.
Family. The family of the father will last forever. And the son who will continue that family.
If she takes that away from the Cardinal, she's no better than a corpse. And that's something she can't give to her father.
It wasn't anyone's fault, but that's what happened in the end. What Ippolito could give, she couldn't give.
“You’re still going after that woman!”
Ippolito cried.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t push it! When did you ever trust me?! Did you ever trust me?!”
Ippolito appealed to his father, at least the only father he had in his life, for faith.
“I did nothing wrong!! It’s all that girl’s fault!! No, it’s because of my father, who lets her act like that!!!”
Ariadne, on the other hand, wanted to ask her father.
What were you thinking when you abandoned me at that time?
For Ippolito, for that worthless, useless bastard who was screaming right in front of my eyes, you cut off my lifeline, so why are you stroking my hair now? Do you even think of me as your child?
At that moment, she realized that the Cardinal was stroking her. His fingers, which had grown from middle age to old age, looked like withered tree branches.
The branch hand, with its thick leather folded over its slender frame, was absentmindedly stroking her hair.
The Cardinal's hand, which had been stroking her hair, also stroked Ariadne's forehead. Their bare skin touched. At that moment, the axis of the Earth shook once again.
'Yes, this is your third visit this year.'
'I see.'
This time it was the Bergamo farm. Between the autumn fields, harvested and the first frost, she could see the farm buildings she had hated as a child.
It was smaller than she remembered, but it was a clean, modern facility. The plaster on the walls was still white. It looked like it had only been built a few years ago.
'They say this winter will be cold. The Corella River overflowed in the summer.'
'Hmm?'
'The flooding of the Corella River happens once every seven years, and it is said that when the Corella River floods, there is a very cold winter.'
Ariadne heard those words and realized that this was when she was very young.
The Corella River flooded every seven years like a ghost. It happened when she was fourteen and when she was seven.
If she were seven, that would be the year her mother passed away, and she had just arrived at the farm.
'Just take a look and don't leave.'
'Isabella?'
As far as the Cardinal knew, his eldest daughter, Isabella, was living a quiet life in a convent.
'Suddenly?'
But Isabella was not at all quiet. Cesare had already established a considerable degree of rapport with Isabella herself.
The regent Cesare happened to encounter Isabella de Carlo, the widow of the late Crown Prince Alfonso, while hunting, still beautiful and more miserable than ever.
The King's hunting grounds were connected to the backyard of the convent where the young widow resided.
The poor former Crown Princess lost her way while out for a walk without an attendant, and after wandering aimlessly, she came face to face with the regent, Cesare.
If it weren't for Cesare, she would have frozen to death in the autumn forest. At least, that's what he believed.
Cesare, who saved the blonde beauty from trouble, often went hunting in that hunting ground after that.
While hunting, he also visited former royal family members who were in difficult situations as the head of the royal family.
He first ordered the treatment of the Crown Princess to be improved, and then sent her necessities such as sperm whale oil, which the convent could not obtain.
Then he wrote a personal letter and then...
The regent visited the hunting ground every weekend after the snow melted the following year. Their time was hot enough to melt even the eternal snow.
Then one day she whispered.
'Get me out of here.'
How?
Cesare did not intend to grant her wish from the beginning.
But a rift appeared when his steely-tempered, raven-haired future regent disagreed with him about providing aid to the poor in the winter.
And a golden throbbing seeped into the crack.
The opinion of the prospective regent was secretly valued among his subordinates. He was also fed up with it.
The fatigue that had built up on his shoulders when Ariadne insisted that the Marquis of Guatieri's men should not be employed was relieved by Isabella's slender fingers.
He felt that the massage was like that of a piano player playing a melody.
When Ariadne was unable to reconcile with the dead Queen's party and continued to clash with them, disgracing their reputation, the only thing she could think of was Isabella's face.
Absurd thoughts consumed him.
'Isabella de Mare was Alfonso's Queen, so wouldn't taking her as a wife help to appease the opposition of the nobles who were on Alfonso's side?'
He wanted to act that way, so he made up excuses and stuck to them.
And Isabella's wish only came out of Cesare's mouth when Cardinal de Mare made an outrageous demand, and when Cesare thought that if he did that, he could do something outrageous too.
It was a half-impulsive action. He responded to the Cardinal like a stubborn child.
'You did not mishear. It is Isabella de Mare.'
The Cardinal's mouth opened roundly, then closed without saying a word.
Ariadne was sure that the words 'What about Ariadne?' were about to come out of her father's mouth.
'Father, Father, please...!'
Ariadne knew the end of this story. Isabella, who had stolen her coronation, had grown up as the Queen and had come to the West Tower, where she was imprisoned.
Hot blood gushed out like a fountain. Isabella got what she wanted, and Ariadne died.
But deep down, she desperately begged and begged.
'Don't betray me. Father, Father, Father...!'
The Cardinal remained silent for a moment. Ariadne found the silence almost unbearable.
Cardinal de Mare was troubled by his younger daughter, his older daughter, their values, their personal lives, himself, his older daughter, his younger daughter, his eldest son, and the continuation of the family to which they all belonged.
In any case, Isabella was the widow of the deceased Crown Prince and had no natural right to the throne or lands, nor could she exercise guardianship over her children, who were the heirs to the throne.
In other words, remarriage with a good partner was difficult.
Isabella's new husband was not very different from the new husband Ariadne could have found.
In that case, it wouldn't be a bad idea to change it like this.
The Cardinal continued to ponder.
While the younger daughter was stuffy and had trouble communicating, the older daughter was quick-witted and relayed all her calculations to the de Mare family through her mother.
Moreover, since she is Ippolito's full sister, she will be more devoted to the family herself.
And Lucrezia's smiling face. Her face when she would go home, with a big smile on her face and a baby-like voice, showering him with rare compliments.
Cardinal de Mare, who had done all the calculations in a short time, answered shortly.
'Great.'
'Ah.'
Everything was understood.
So that's what happened.
This time, there was no relief from learning the truth. It felt like a wedge had been driven into Ariadne's chest. It was heartbreaking.
Is this pain real or imaginary?
One thing was certain: the tears shed in her dreams were shed in reality as well.
Ariadne opened her eyes, lying on the floor, her face covered in tears, slumped over the threshold of the door leading into the study.
“Hey, hey!”
Cardinal de Mare came running. He knelt beside the fallen Ariadne and looked at her.
Apparently, his younger daughter fell backwards at the same time that Ippolito was running at full speed.
It was due to the dizziness caused by the golden rule, but from where the Cardinal was standing, it seemed that Ariadne had been hurt by Ippolito pushing her.
After confirming that there was no bleeding or visible damage to Ariadne, the Cardinal shouted at Ippolito.
“Ip..polito...!!”
Ippolito looked back at Ariadne with a look of mingled anger and stupidity, like a bull that has lost its target.
The Cardinal glared at Ippolito with a fearsome look.
“What are you doing to your sister right now!!”
Ariadne collapsed on the Cardinal's lap and cried endlessly.
Even ten minutes ago, she would have been thrilled if her father had been as hostile to Ippolito as he is now for her sake.
But now that she knows the truth, she can't foolishly love him anymore.
Family. The family of the father will last forever. And the son who will continue that family.
If she takes that away from the Cardinal, she's no better than a corpse. And that's something she can't give to her father.
It wasn't anyone's fault, but that's what happened in the end. What Ippolito could give, she couldn't give.
“You’re still going after that woman!”
Ippolito cried.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t push it! When did you ever trust me?! Did you ever trust me?!”
Ippolito appealed to his father, at least the only father he had in his life, for faith.
“I did nothing wrong!! It’s all that girl’s fault!! No, it’s because of my father, who lets her act like that!!!”
Ariadne, on the other hand, wanted to ask her father.
What were you thinking when you abandoned me at that time?
For Ippolito, for that worthless, useless bastard who was screaming right in front of my eyes, you cut off my lifeline, so why are you stroking my hair now? Do you even think of me as your child?
At that moment, she realized that the Cardinal was stroking her. His fingers, which had grown from middle age to old age, looked like withered tree branches.
The branch hand, with its thick leather folded over its slender frame, was absentmindedly stroking her hair.
The Cardinal's hand, which had been stroking her hair, also stroked Ariadne's forehead. Their bare skin touched. At that moment, the axis of the Earth shook once again.
***
'Yes, this is your third visit this year.'
'I see.'
This time it was the Bergamo farm. Between the autumn fields, harvested and the first frost, she could see the farm buildings she had hated as a child.
It was smaller than she remembered, but it was a clean, modern facility. The plaster on the walls was still white. It looked like it had only been built a few years ago.
'They say this winter will be cold. The Corella River overflowed in the summer.'
'Hmm?'
'The flooding of the Corella River happens once every seven years, and it is said that when the Corella River floods, there is a very cold winter.'
Ariadne heard those words and realized that this was when she was very young.
The Corella River flooded every seven years like a ghost. It happened when she was fourteen and when she was seven.
If she were seven, that would be the year her mother passed away, and she had just arrived at the farm.
'Just take a look and don't leave.'
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