Chapter 29

"Your words are right, if it's a collaboration, it should be clearly stated as a joint composition."

Cesare de Como slowly approached and greeted his friends, including Ottavio, by clapping hands.

"Beautiful Isabella, it's been a long time."

He playfully bowed to Isabella. Isabella also stood up, bowed, and extended her hand. Cesare kissed the air above her hand with a loud sound and then let go.

"You are still as beautiful as ever. Your beauty today still lives up to the name of the most beautiful woman in San Carlo."

He approached Isabella without caring whether Lucrezia was watching and leaned close to her ear. At a distance where his breath could be felt, he whispered lazily to Isabella.

"Your strength is your beauty. Struggling to wear clothes that don't suit you just makes you look ugly. Like today."

Isabella opened her eyes wide and looked at Cesare.

"Struggling to wear clothes that don't suit you?"

"Isn't that so?"

"I don't even think about such things!"

"I didn't mention anyone, but you seem to understand perfectly. Such beauty and intelligence, my goodness."

He raised his hands dramatically.

"Kids! Lady de Mare is so smart!"

Ottavio and the other young nobles laughed in unison. Isabella's face turned bright red with shame, and Julia de Valdesar whispered something to the person next to her, smiling with one corner of her mouth raised. Isabella was certain that Julia was mocking her. Camilla de Castiglione, who dared not mock as openly as Julia, bowed her head and tried to control her expression. Just as Lucrezia was about to intervene, Cesare took the lead.

"I came to see the good music today, but I ended up seeing something unexpected. I think I've seen everything, so I'll leave first."

He elegantly bowed to Lucrezia and immediately turned to leave. Ottavio and Cesare's group also bowed to Lucrezia and left in a hurry. Once the fiancé left, Camilla de Castiglione, unsure of what to do, greeted Isabella and Lucrezia and left. Julia de Valdesar also stood up with a polite smile and left. The other young ladies followed suit as soon as Julia left. Left alone, Isabella looked around with wide eyes. The only people left were the musicians and nuns of the church and a few priests, all under the absolute influence of her father, Cardinal de Mare.

Isabella, who had suppressed her anger in front of the influential noble children, finally let it out.

"What are you all staring at! Get lost!!!!"

* * *

Cesare led a group of friends out of the main gate of San Ercolino Cathedral. Just as he was about to mount his chestnut horse, Ottavio, who was holding the reins, spoke to him.

"Hey, Count Cesare. What's with the nosiness?"

Cesare turned his head arrogantly to look at Ottavio.

"What do you mean, Ottavio?"

"Didn't you like Isabella de Mare quite a bit?"

Ottavio shrugged.

"Isabella de Mare has a strong personality. Honestly, she's quite pretty, so it's understandable. It will take a lot of effort to win her back. Are you confident you can do it, or has your interest waned?"

Cesare frowned, looking genuinely upset. He scowled and said,

"That's not true. When did Count Cesare ever hold back his words because of a woman?"

He brushed his hair back, removed his hat, and glanced at Ottavio.

"If she wants to meet me, she has to endure. If she doesn't want to hear unpleasant things, she should learn to speak wisely. Don't you know me at all, Signor Ottavio?"

Cesare leaped onto his horse.

"I'm leaving first. See you at the salon. I need a drink to calm down."

He spurred his chestnut horse, which gleamed in the sunlight, and galloped away, leaving a trail of hoofbeats.

* * *

Arabella, who was dragged home, was immediately grabbed by the neck and dragged into her mother's parlor by Lucrezia. Isabella, still in the elaborate outfit she had worn to visit her friends, was sobbing behind Lucrezia.

"Mom, Mom. How can I face anyone now?"

Isabella sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

"Did you see Count Cesare's face? He looked at me with disdain! Did you see Julia de Valdesar's expression? She won't even talk to me in the future! What if I'm ostracized from society?"

"Our daughter, our poor daughter, don't cry. Everything will be fine."

Lucrezia stroked Isabella's hair and comforted her. Then she turned to her younger daughter, who was trembling in the corner, and scolded her harshly.

"What were you thinking, acting so boldly!"

Arabella bowed her head and stared at the floor.

"No, I thought... I thought I had permission... The score was published incorrectly, and I had to fix it..."

"Whether the score was published incorrectly or not, what's so important about it! It's just a piece of music! Your sister's reputation is in shambles now!"

Hearing that her sister's reputation was in shambles, Isabella sobbed even harder. Arabella, trying to avoid her mother's anger, focused on the patterns on the marble floor, imagining that one looked like a donkey and another like a dog.

"You should have just stayed quiet!"

Lucrezia, who was scolding Arabella, was interrupted by Isabella.

"Exactly! You just had to act out and spread rumors about my piece!"

Arabella, who was trying to look at the distant mountains, finally snapped at Isabella's words.

"Your piece? It's my piece!"

"What?"

"I wrote it! You took it from me!"

"Hey!"

Arabella stopped arguing with Isabella and turned to Lucrezia, pleading.

"Mom, Mom. It's really my piece. She took it from me. Even if no one else believes me, you should."

But Lucrezia was focused on something else.

"Are you defying your sister?"

"Mom!"

"You must always be polite to your elders! Didn't I tell you not to defy your sister?"

As Arabella, feeling wronged, started to cry, Lucrezia scolded her harshly.

"Is your piece so important? Sisters should share everything! If your sister's marriage is ruined, will you take responsibility?"

Hearing about the ruined marriage, Lucrezia scolded Arabella even more, while Isabella sobbed behind her.

"Our Isabella is a precious gem in society! How proud I am of her! I won't tolerate anyone ruining that, whether it's you or your talented piece!"

Lucrezia picked up the oak rod used for punishment. It had never been used on Isabella and was only used on Arabella and, more recently, on Ariadne.

"How many times do you want to be hit? Think about how many times you deserve to be hit for what you did!"

Arabella, with a tear-streaked face, said to Lucrezia,

"I didn't do anything wrong! Isabella took my piece! If she hadn't stolen it, this wouldn't have happened!"

"Are you defying your mother now? And stop blaming others! How can you blame your sister when your character is so bad?"

- Swish!

Lucrezia swung the oak rod threateningly in the air.

"Get down! Put your hands out!"

Arabella, startled by her mother's command, knelt down but still didn't want to be hit. She twisted her body and tried to move backward. Lucrezia leaned forward and chased after her. Arabella, trying to avoid her mother without openly running away, was betrayed by Isabella.

Isabella, who was kneeling on the floor, pressed down on Arabella's back with her knee, restraining her and presenting her to their mother. Arabella's struggle was in vain.

"Put your hands out!"

Arabella, finally caught, sobbed and extended her palms.

- Smack!

Lucrezia hit Arabella's palms with the oak rod.

- Smack!

Arabella cried uncontrollably with each hit. However, Lucrezia did not stop.

After hitting her ten times, Lucrezia, unable to bear the sight of Arabella crying, hit her one more time before throwing the oak rod to the ground.

"Go to your room and stay there! You can't go anywhere for a month except for Mass! You'll eat in your room! You won't even see meat!"

Arabella, grateful for the dismissal, fled from her mother's parlor.

- Bang!

The heavy, chestnut oak door closed in front of Arabella. Although she had escaped, being cast out was painful. The love and bond between her mother and sister were still inside the parlor.

Arabella, cast out of her mother's parlor, fled to the west wing where the children lived. The maids, seeing the crying young lady, whispered but did not approach or comfort her, fearing the unpredictable anger of their mistress.

In the west wing, Ariadne, who had heard about the commotion in the east wing parlor, was waiting. Seeing Arabella's disheveled state, Ariadne opened her arms without a word.

Arabella, without saying a word of apology or regret, ran into Ariadne's open arms.

Inside Ariadne's room, Arabella, nestled in Ariadne's embrace, cried uncontrollably. Ariadne, without a word, patted Arabella's small back. Arabella, like a small wild animal, burrowed into Ariadne's embrace. The warmth of their bodies met, and a silent apology and understanding passed between them. No more words were needed.