When the person who fell was Countess Bartolini, the audience all looked at Countess Contarini, Isabella. Isabella was wearing a pure white dress. She looked into the distance with her beautiful golden eyelashes down, not caring about the people's gaze.
The royal court was set up in the Palagio Carlo's 'Hall of Waters'. On the left, on a very high wooden platform, was Isabella, on the right, on a decalcomania-like platform, was Clemente, and in the center, Leo III, in an odd position.
The atmosphere of the two was contrasting. Isabella realized the advantage of looking plain. The white dress she wore was hurriedly procured from the palace by the King's order, and was requisitioned by the King's order. That meant that the dress belonged to the Duchess Rubina. It was so extravagant that Isabella spent the whole morning tearing off the decorations and buttons from the dress she had been given.
Isabella, with her simple attire and hair tied back without a single ornament, must have looked like an angel fallen from heaven to an untrained eye. But Isabella de Contarini's notoriety was known to all in San Carlo.
Duchess Rubina, who knew full well where the clothes came from, sat in the audience and glared at Isabella with burning eyes.
'Did you take off all the gold-plated buttons and pearl decorations to steal them?'
She ground her teeth.
'Do you think you'll be able to get out of here alive today?'
In Duchess Rubina’s view, Isabella had no chance here today. For one thing, her opponent was formidable. Clemente, dressed in a heavy, dark gray dress, almost like a mourning dress, in contrast to Isabella, looked like a very modest young lady. With pearl earrings hanging from her ears and a black cotton rag on her face, she was the very picture of a wealthy, high-class, and cultured member of the capital. People were whispering.
“If the fallen side is Countess Bartolini, then of course the civil side is the other side, right?”
The royal court was set up in the Palagio Carlo's 'Hall of Waters'. On the left, on a very high wooden platform, was Isabella, on the right, on a decalcomania-like platform, was Clemente, and in the center, Leo III, in an odd position.
The atmosphere of the two was contrasting. Isabella realized the advantage of looking plain. The white dress she wore was hurriedly procured from the palace by the King's order, and was requisitioned by the King's order. That meant that the dress belonged to the Duchess Rubina. It was so extravagant that Isabella spent the whole morning tearing off the decorations and buttons from the dress she had been given.
Isabella, with her simple attire and hair tied back without a single ornament, must have looked like an angel fallen from heaven to an untrained eye. But Isabella de Contarini's notoriety was known to all in San Carlo.
Duchess Rubina, who knew full well where the clothes came from, sat in the audience and glared at Isabella with burning eyes.
'Did you take off all the gold-plated buttons and pearl decorations to steal them?'
She ground her teeth.
'Do you think you'll be able to get out of here alive today?'
In Duchess Rubina’s view, Isabella had no chance here today. For one thing, her opponent was formidable. Clemente, dressed in a heavy, dark gray dress, almost like a mourning dress, in contrast to Isabella, looked like a very modest young lady. With pearl earrings hanging from her ears and a black cotton rag on her face, she was the very picture of a wealthy, high-class, and cultured member of the capital. People were whispering.
“If the fallen side is Countess Bartolini, then of course the civil side is the other side, right?”
“Clemente has also been doing volunteer work for a long time.”
“Her faith is also deep.”
“We’ve all seen it since she was little. She was a child born to a noble family with a dark past.”
“How did I get involved in something like this...”
Among the married ladies who led the public opinion of San Carlo, Clemente de Bartolini's reputation was clean. Only a few knew of Clemente's double life, which flourished after his marriage.
Even Clemente de Bartolini was the confidant of the Duchess Rubina. The Duchess Rubina, who was displeased with the very fact that her chief maid was up there, whispered to the Countess Pinatelli, who was sitting next to her in the gallery.
“I really don’t understand why we’re having this trial.”
If Duchess Rubina had known about this situation earlier, she would have prevented the opening of the palace court. It was a farce in itself to bring up the secret affairs of a noble family and bring them to the palace court. It was an act that did not respect the Bartolini or the Contarini, and no noble family in a similar situation would be pleased with Leo III's actions today.
'And how on earth did that woman get into the palace?'
She gave the de Mare sisters an order to evacuate Palazzo Carlo. But the women, the older and the little, were coming and going from the palace as if it were their own home. The second one in particular had declared war by moving in. Rubina was in a really bad mood. It was really bad.
However, if she were to bring up the subject of ‘I didn’t let her in, so who let her in?’, it would be like confessing that she was not in control of the palace. Countess Pinatelli, who noticed that Rubina’s mood was becoming increasingly turbulent, quickly heard Rubina’s retort.
“They say those two pushed each other, so isn’t it obvious who we should believe?”
Everyone was chatting together around the audience seats.
“Aren’t you doing it because there is some kind of solid evidence?”
“No way. If there was something like that, we wouldn’t have come here.”
“The result is obvious, but are you just opening this for us to have a drink during the day?”
Leo III shouted in annoyance.
“Everyone, be quiet! Be quiet! Only then can we hear what both parties have to say!”
The audience was also curious about the story. The sister-in-laws fought while grabbing each other's hair and then pushed each other down the stairs. A love quarrel? Who on earth was the love quarrel between?
Isabella was the first to speak. With everyone’s attention on her, Isabella slowly opened her mouth while looking sadly into the distance.
“I knew one of Clemente’s secrets.”
All of San Carlo was silent and focused on her mouth.
“Sister Clemente was actually having an affair.”
“Nonsense!”
Count Bartolini shouted in anger.
"Be quiet!"
Leo III immediately stopped the old Count with a shout. The old Count glared at Isabella with an extremely dissatisfied expression and grumbled. The capital's lawyer, the Viscount of Elba, stood by and stopped the old Count.
Isabella was delighted by the sight of the King crushing the Count. She gained confidence and shouted at the top of her voice.
“Sister Clemente was actually... the mistress of the Marquis of Campa!”
The room was in an uproar.
“The Marquis of Campa?!”
“That’s her story, isn’t it?”
This was an old story, so some knew it, others didn't. At the time, the nobles who were in their fiefdoms and couldn't participate in society were bewildered by the crowd of people looking at each other and whispering incessantly.
“Are you talking about yourself?”
“Why, about five or six years ago, San Carlo was really noisy.”
This was such a hot topic that even strangers volunteered to explain.
“When Countess Contarini was a virgin, that is, when she was the eldest daughter of Cardinal de Mare, there was a riot at a masked ball. It is said that she was having an affair with the Marquis de Campa.”
"Wow!"
“You didn’t know because you were in the territory at the time.”
“So because of that, the idea of an engagement with Duke Cesare came up, but Duke Cesare immediately turned it down.”
Isabella became the glue of San Carlo's social circle, unwittingly starting conversations between strangers who were merely sitting in front of her. It was almost a festival atmosphere.
“Oh my, you even mentioned engagement back then? I only heard about the broken engagement.”
“That’s right. The de Mare family tried to switch their daughters and failed.”
“Then is that de Mare’s eldest daughter really a woman who leaves? What did the Contarini family see in her that made them bring her in?”
“The late Count Contarini will strike the ground from below.”
Among the stories passed from mouth to mouth, some were true and some were not. But that no longer mattered. The fact that they were excited was what mattered. Isabella shouted desperately in a feeble voice toward the noisy crowd.
“I told her that I was going to tell the truth, and then she pushed me and accidentally fell!”
Isabella's voice couldn't be heard because the people were so noisy.
“Be quiet!”
Only after Leo III had banged his gavel on the table did the rabble of San Carlo finally quiet down. In the meantime, an expert stepped forward with confidence. It was the Viscount of Elba, a renowned lawyer in the capital, whom the Count Bartolini had sent to hire in the morning.
“That’s nonsense.”
He promised the old Count that he would defend Clemente and let her walk home freely. He was confident of victory. The opponent was Isabella de Mare, or rather Contarini. Isabella was the type of woman who was most likely to face public backlash. A witch hunt was not out of the question. The Viscount of Elba stepped forward confidently.
“I would like to point out that the defendant’s testimony is inconsistent. Countess Isabella de Contarini never once said in the family court yesterday that she had falsely threatened Countess Bartolini.”
“It’s not false!”
“Be quiet, defendant!”
The Count of Elba scolded Isabella. Isabella had failed to secure a lawyer for herself. She had lost all her popularity, and there was no one among her servants or neighbors to testify for her. After Isabella managed to get through the Count of Elba’s scolding and finish her second, empty statement that “you must still believe me,” it was Clemente’s turn.
When it was her turn, Clemente opened her mouth. Her face was pale, but her voice was calm and firm.
“...I have nothing more to say. When I reprimanded my sister-in-law for not being proper and neglecting the upbringing of the children... Countess Isabella Contarini became very angry and pushed me down the stairs.”
Afterwards, the Bartolini family's maid, whom Countess Bartolini had called as a witness, came forward and gave testimony about what a terrible mother Isabella was and what a wicked wife she was who neglected her children by going out.
Next came the Bartolini family's stablemaster, who testified that Countess Contarini enjoyed frequent nighttime outings and that she would change carriages with several different men at dawn.
“With all due respect, there are some instances where people have reported seeing Countess Contarini engaging in inappropriate physical contact with passengers.”
“Ahem!”
Ottavio's face turned red. Count Bartolini threw away his brother-in-law's honor to save his wife and his sister. He didn't even consult with him beforehand. But as a dependent, he couldn't say anything. His anger was boiling over.
Leo III looked down at the trial with his white eyebrows furrowed. If things continued this way, it seemed likely that Isabella de Contarini would be found guilty.
That was when.
“By Your Majesty’s order, I have brought in a witness!”
The guard entered the 'Hall of Water'. Isabella immediately turned pale. And Countess Bartolini, who belatedly discovered the witness brought by the guard, turned pale as death.
While Count and Countess Bartolini were busy preparing to appear at the royal court, there was another person who received a visit from the guard. This person was not one to wake up often in the morning, so the confusion was doubled.
'Me? Why on earth?'
He was musing absentmindedly, wearing only a long shirt over his naked body. Was it because of the young courtier I harassed last month? I didn't do it that badly... Or was it because of the merchant who stole my money last month? That dirty bastard, I sold him a certain amount of money, and he's taking that amount for himself...
A sleepy, shirtless man who looked like pork ham asked the guard cautiously.
“Excuse me, have you brought a carriage to take me away?”
The guard answered, barely hiding his pitiful gaze.
“You are a witness, so you will not be taken away but will be accompanied voluntarily. You may ride your own horse or carriage.”
Witness? The back of the man who had been so cowardly suddenly straightened at the words, “Witness, not criminal.” He suddenly straightened his back and spoke confidently.
“Then I will take the carriage.”
The guard looked at the middle-aged man and replied with a sigh. It was fortunate that he had chosen a carriage. If he had carried that man on a horse, one of the poor palace horses would have retired with a back injury.
“Please do so, Marquis Campa.”
The Marquis de Campa got into the carriage with a smile on his face and a big smile on his face. The carriage sent by the palace was large and good, and the guards treated him with great respect. The Marquis of Campa, who was completely excluded from the social circles, could not even remember the last time he had been treated like this.
So by the time the Marquis of Campa entered the 'Hall of Water', he was noticeably strutting. The audience stirred as they spotted the Marquis of Campa striding towards them.
“Why is the Marquis of Campa here?”
“Weren’t you kicked out of social circles?”
“No way...?”
The speculation was right. The Marquis of Campa was today's key witness. Clemente thought seriously. If she fainted here and there, would the trial be stopped? Would she stop breathing and fall down the podium? If she fell head first, would her neck break and she die? What should she do?
Clemente's failure was that she had been pondering too long. She should have jumped down from the witness stand as soon as the Marquis of Campa came into view. As soon as the Marquis of Campa entered the courtroom, the presiding judge, Leo III, asked,
“Marquis Campa. The reason you are here today is that the testimonies of two women are conflicting.”
Once the King started talking, no one could intervene. The game had begun.
“Both women claim that the other is the mistress of the Marquis of Campa. They both try to keep it a secret. Let me ask you this. Which of the two women was it that you had a secret affair with around 1122?”
The Marquis of Campa grinned. He raised the corners of his mouth in a very unpleasant manner and pointed with his finger towards the right platform. That was the direction of Countess Clemente de Bartolini.
“We’ve all seen it since she was little. She was a child born to a noble family with a dark past.”
“How did I get involved in something like this...”
Among the married ladies who led the public opinion of San Carlo, Clemente de Bartolini's reputation was clean. Only a few knew of Clemente's double life, which flourished after his marriage.
Even Clemente de Bartolini was the confidant of the Duchess Rubina. The Duchess Rubina, who was displeased with the very fact that her chief maid was up there, whispered to the Countess Pinatelli, who was sitting next to her in the gallery.
“I really don’t understand why we’re having this trial.”
If Duchess Rubina had known about this situation earlier, she would have prevented the opening of the palace court. It was a farce in itself to bring up the secret affairs of a noble family and bring them to the palace court. It was an act that did not respect the Bartolini or the Contarini, and no noble family in a similar situation would be pleased with Leo III's actions today.
'And how on earth did that woman get into the palace?'
She gave the de Mare sisters an order to evacuate Palazzo Carlo. But the women, the older and the little, were coming and going from the palace as if it were their own home. The second one in particular had declared war by moving in. Rubina was in a really bad mood. It was really bad.
However, if she were to bring up the subject of ‘I didn’t let her in, so who let her in?’, it would be like confessing that she was not in control of the palace. Countess Pinatelli, who noticed that Rubina’s mood was becoming increasingly turbulent, quickly heard Rubina’s retort.
“They say those two pushed each other, so isn’t it obvious who we should believe?”
Everyone was chatting together around the audience seats.
“Aren’t you doing it because there is some kind of solid evidence?”
“No way. If there was something like that, we wouldn’t have come here.”
“The result is obvious, but are you just opening this for us to have a drink during the day?”
Leo III shouted in annoyance.
“Everyone, be quiet! Be quiet! Only then can we hear what both parties have to say!”
The audience was also curious about the story. The sister-in-laws fought while grabbing each other's hair and then pushed each other down the stairs. A love quarrel? Who on earth was the love quarrel between?
Isabella was the first to speak. With everyone’s attention on her, Isabella slowly opened her mouth while looking sadly into the distance.
“I knew one of Clemente’s secrets.”
All of San Carlo was silent and focused on her mouth.
“Sister Clemente was actually having an affair.”
“Nonsense!”
Count Bartolini shouted in anger.
"Be quiet!"
Leo III immediately stopped the old Count with a shout. The old Count glared at Isabella with an extremely dissatisfied expression and grumbled. The capital's lawyer, the Viscount of Elba, stood by and stopped the old Count.
Isabella was delighted by the sight of the King crushing the Count. She gained confidence and shouted at the top of her voice.
“Sister Clemente was actually... the mistress of the Marquis of Campa!”
The room was in an uproar.
“The Marquis of Campa?!”
“That’s her story, isn’t it?”
This was an old story, so some knew it, others didn't. At the time, the nobles who were in their fiefdoms and couldn't participate in society were bewildered by the crowd of people looking at each other and whispering incessantly.
“Are you talking about yourself?”
“Why, about five or six years ago, San Carlo was really noisy.”
This was such a hot topic that even strangers volunteered to explain.
“When Countess Contarini was a virgin, that is, when she was the eldest daughter of Cardinal de Mare, there was a riot at a masked ball. It is said that she was having an affair with the Marquis de Campa.”
"Wow!"
“You didn’t know because you were in the territory at the time.”
“So because of that, the idea of an engagement with Duke Cesare came up, but Duke Cesare immediately turned it down.”
Isabella became the glue of San Carlo's social circle, unwittingly starting conversations between strangers who were merely sitting in front of her. It was almost a festival atmosphere.
“Oh my, you even mentioned engagement back then? I only heard about the broken engagement.”
“That’s right. The de Mare family tried to switch their daughters and failed.”
“Then is that de Mare’s eldest daughter really a woman who leaves? What did the Contarini family see in her that made them bring her in?”
“The late Count Contarini will strike the ground from below.”
Among the stories passed from mouth to mouth, some were true and some were not. But that no longer mattered. The fact that they were excited was what mattered. Isabella shouted desperately in a feeble voice toward the noisy crowd.
“I told her that I was going to tell the truth, and then she pushed me and accidentally fell!”
Isabella's voice couldn't be heard because the people were so noisy.
“Be quiet!”
Only after Leo III had banged his gavel on the table did the rabble of San Carlo finally quiet down. In the meantime, an expert stepped forward with confidence. It was the Viscount of Elba, a renowned lawyer in the capital, whom the Count Bartolini had sent to hire in the morning.
“That’s nonsense.”
He promised the old Count that he would defend Clemente and let her walk home freely. He was confident of victory. The opponent was Isabella de Mare, or rather Contarini. Isabella was the type of woman who was most likely to face public backlash. A witch hunt was not out of the question. The Viscount of Elba stepped forward confidently.
“I would like to point out that the defendant’s testimony is inconsistent. Countess Isabella de Contarini never once said in the family court yesterday that she had falsely threatened Countess Bartolini.”
“It’s not false!”
“Be quiet, defendant!”
The Count of Elba scolded Isabella. Isabella had failed to secure a lawyer for herself. She had lost all her popularity, and there was no one among her servants or neighbors to testify for her. After Isabella managed to get through the Count of Elba’s scolding and finish her second, empty statement that “you must still believe me,” it was Clemente’s turn.
When it was her turn, Clemente opened her mouth. Her face was pale, but her voice was calm and firm.
“...I have nothing more to say. When I reprimanded my sister-in-law for not being proper and neglecting the upbringing of the children... Countess Isabella Contarini became very angry and pushed me down the stairs.”
Afterwards, the Bartolini family's maid, whom Countess Bartolini had called as a witness, came forward and gave testimony about what a terrible mother Isabella was and what a wicked wife she was who neglected her children by going out.
Next came the Bartolini family's stablemaster, who testified that Countess Contarini enjoyed frequent nighttime outings and that she would change carriages with several different men at dawn.
“With all due respect, there are some instances where people have reported seeing Countess Contarini engaging in inappropriate physical contact with passengers.”
“Ahem!”
Ottavio's face turned red. Count Bartolini threw away his brother-in-law's honor to save his wife and his sister. He didn't even consult with him beforehand. But as a dependent, he couldn't say anything. His anger was boiling over.
Leo III looked down at the trial with his white eyebrows furrowed. If things continued this way, it seemed likely that Isabella de Contarini would be found guilty.
That was when.
“By Your Majesty’s order, I have brought in a witness!”
The guard entered the 'Hall of Water'. Isabella immediately turned pale. And Countess Bartolini, who belatedly discovered the witness brought by the guard, turned pale as death.
***
While Count and Countess Bartolini were busy preparing to appear at the royal court, there was another person who received a visit from the guard. This person was not one to wake up often in the morning, so the confusion was doubled.
'Me? Why on earth?'
He was musing absentmindedly, wearing only a long shirt over his naked body. Was it because of the young courtier I harassed last month? I didn't do it that badly... Or was it because of the merchant who stole my money last month? That dirty bastard, I sold him a certain amount of money, and he's taking that amount for himself...
A sleepy, shirtless man who looked like pork ham asked the guard cautiously.
“Excuse me, have you brought a carriage to take me away?”
The guard answered, barely hiding his pitiful gaze.
“You are a witness, so you will not be taken away but will be accompanied voluntarily. You may ride your own horse or carriage.”
Witness? The back of the man who had been so cowardly suddenly straightened at the words, “Witness, not criminal.” He suddenly straightened his back and spoke confidently.
“Then I will take the carriage.”
The guard looked at the middle-aged man and replied with a sigh. It was fortunate that he had chosen a carriage. If he had carried that man on a horse, one of the poor palace horses would have retired with a back injury.
“Please do so, Marquis Campa.”
The Marquis de Campa got into the carriage with a smile on his face and a big smile on his face. The carriage sent by the palace was large and good, and the guards treated him with great respect. The Marquis of Campa, who was completely excluded from the social circles, could not even remember the last time he had been treated like this.
So by the time the Marquis of Campa entered the 'Hall of Water', he was noticeably strutting. The audience stirred as they spotted the Marquis of Campa striding towards them.
“Why is the Marquis of Campa here?”
“Weren’t you kicked out of social circles?”
“No way...?”
The speculation was right. The Marquis of Campa was today's key witness. Clemente thought seriously. If she fainted here and there, would the trial be stopped? Would she stop breathing and fall down the podium? If she fell head first, would her neck break and she die? What should she do?
Clemente's failure was that she had been pondering too long. She should have jumped down from the witness stand as soon as the Marquis of Campa came into view. As soon as the Marquis of Campa entered the courtroom, the presiding judge, Leo III, asked,
“Marquis Campa. The reason you are here today is that the testimonies of two women are conflicting.”
Once the King started talking, no one could intervene. The game had begun.
“Both women claim that the other is the mistress of the Marquis of Campa. They both try to keep it a secret. Let me ask you this. Which of the two women was it that you had a secret affair with around 1122?”
The Marquis of Campa grinned. He raised the corners of his mouth in a very unpleasant manner and pointed with his finger towards the right platform. That was the direction of Countess Clemente de Bartolini.
Comments
Post a Comment