Sister, I'm the Queen This Life (330 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 13
Surely that chemise isn’t something you’d claim you once wore yourself. Anyone can see it’s clearly a kitchen maid’s outfit.
“Lucrezia must be raising the Cardinal de Mare’s second daughter worse than a servant.”
“Even a distant relative or a handmaiden wouldn’t be dressed in something like that. It truly is a servant’s garment.”
Isabella’s pupils trembled as if struck by an earthquake.
There was no way left to recover or explain further. Her face turned crimson as she hesitated—should she add more lies or just flee? Just then, Queen Marguerite, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke a single sentence directly to Isabella.
“Is that chemise something you used to wear yourself?”
Isabella turned pale and clamped her lips shut like a tightly closed shell. For a girl barely seventeen, Isabella was remarkably quick to assess a situation. When cornered with no escape, staying silent and making a quiet exit was the wisest course.
But Lucrezia, not nearly as sharp as her own daughter, tried desperately to salvage the situation.
“That is… I didn’t dress her like that! The maids must have switched her clothes!”
Queen Marguerite clicked her tongue in disapproval. In trying to claim she hadn’t mistreated her illegitimate daughter, Lucrezia had inadvertently confessed she exercised no control whatsoever over her household.
Queen Marguerite firmly waved her hand outward, cutting off Lucrezia’s excuse with a sharp gesture.
“Enough. Take that girl, give her a proper chemise, and help her change.”
The queen’s maid bowed her head, then gently took Ariadne’s hand and helped her stand.
Ariadne summoned every ounce of acting skill she possessed, widening her eyes in feigned innocence as if completely unaware of what was happening, glancing around nervously while being led away by the queen’s maid.
At the edge of her vision as she exited the queen’s reception room, she saw Lucrezia standing there, face flushed with shame and breathing heavily.
Queen Marguerite had just delivered Lucrezia a sentence of social death.
“Miss de Rossi, I shall personally provide the Cardinal’s second daughter with new attire and keep her a while longer. You and the Cardinal’s eldest daughter may return now.”
This blunt dismissal, showing no regard for face or dignity, was the final, perfect stroke.
The honorific used exclusively for unmarried noble ladies, the implicit message that her children belonged solely to the Cardinal and not to her, and the outright dismissal from their circle—all combined into the very nightmare treatment Lucrezia had always feared most.
[This is the timeline separator]The path following the maid toward the queen’s private chambers was deeply familiar to Ariadne. It was the palace where she had resided for nine years as the Regent Duke’s fiancée.
This particular route entered the queen’s quarters through a back passage via a side gate. Few people used it, and she had always slipped out this way whenever she needed to meet Cesare in secret.
In other words, this was the very path where all of Ariadne’s past misdeeds had begun.
‘I wish I could erase it from my memory.’
If she could forget everything and avoid repeating her sins, perhaps this time she could truly live as the upright, kind person she always wanted to be—and maybe, just maybe, her past transgressions would be as if they never happened. Perhaps even the punishment for her already-committed sins could be forgiven.
Lost in thought, Ariadne took another step forward—only to bump straight into the back of the queen’s maid, who had suddenly stopped walking.
“Ouch!”
But the maid’s exclamation rang louder.
“I pay my respects to Prince Alfonso.”
The queen’s maid halted and bowed deeply. Ariadne, startled by the sudden collision, hastily stepped back a pace and bowed a moment too late.
Before her stood the very sin she had committed in her past life—now appearing as a fair, neat-looking boy gazing at her.
“Ariadne?”
“Alfonso?”
[This is the timeline separator]Though the secluded back path received little sunlight, a well-timed ray filtered through the trees and brilliantly illuminated Prince Alfonso’s golden hair.
Ariadne recalled with a bitter smile the day she had walked down this very path, left the queen’s quarters, and met Alfonso—leading him straight to his death.
Yet the Alfonso standing before her now was just an innocent, guileless seventeen-year-old boy with no involvement in any power struggles.
“Alfonso… you were a prince?”
But even in this life, Ariadne found herself unable to be honest.
Honesty was a luxury for those who had something to spare. For someone like her, who had nothing, she had to climb toward safety using any mix of lies and deception she could muster.
She needed Prince Alfonso’s favor—and yes, perhaps even a proposal. Countless hardships would surely stand in her way.
But if she succeeded…?
“Lady de Mare! How audacious!”
Ariadne had worried her performance might be too subtle, but the queen’s maid jumped in with an exaggerated reaction that more than compensated for her understated act.
“This is His Royal Highness Prince Alfonso de Carlo—the only child of His Majesty King Leo III and Her Majesty Queen Marguerite!”
Alfonso quickly cut off the indignant maid.
“Carla, stop. I deliberately didn’t tell her. Ariadne didn’t know.”
Carla’s eyes screamed, “How is that even acceptable!” as she glared at Ariadne. Avoiding that accusing stare, Ariadne lowered her head.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness.”
Carefully reading Carla’s expression, Ariadne offered Alfonso a deeply respectful bow.
“I humbly implore your generous forgiveness for my grave discourtesy, just this once.”
Strictly speaking, as the Cardinal’s daughter, she had no obligation to bow so humbly before the queen’s maid.
But judging by the circumstances, this maid was clearly the queen’s personal confidante, and every detail of what transpired here would surely reach Queen Marguerite’s ears.
Even though the queen had just taken Ariadne’s side and shamed Lucrezia, it wasn’t out of fondness for Ariadne—it was simply because Lucrezia, and indeed all mistresses and concubines, were thoroughly despised by the queen.
Throughout her life, Queen Marguerite had suffered no small amount of distress due to Countess Rubina, mistress to King Leo III and Cesare’s mother.
Lucrezia had merely become the target of that long-held resentment. If the queen ever discovered that Ariadne had treated her only son so recklessly, she would reverse her stance in an instant.
“Hmm, hmm. Well, you’ve clearly received excellent etiquette training.”
Seeing Ariadne’s formal apology, maid Carla’s previously narrowed eyes softened—but now Prince Alfonso’s lips jutted out in a pout.
“I hate all that stuff.”
“Pardon…?”
“Everyone in the palace calls me ‘Your Highness.’ No one ever addresses me as Alfonso. I finally meet someone who doesn’t know I’m a prince, and now you’re doing this?”
Well… technically, you’re mistaken…
“Your Highness, a person’s status changes with their station, as does their nobility and even their innate character. It’s only natural that people see you not as an individual, but as a prince—and you must accept that.”
Annoyance clouded Alfonso’s otherwise kind, well-shaped eyes at Carla’s lecture. His expression clearly read: bored, irritated. Even the most upright person couldn’t escape the rebellious mood of adolescence.
Suddenly, his eyes sparkled. With a mischievous grin lighting up his face as if something fun had just occurred to him, Alfonso abruptly grabbed Ariadne’s wrist and dashed straight outside the queen’s private chambers.
“Ariadne, let’s go!”
“Aaaah!!”
Only the maid’s startled cry echoed behind them.
“Your Highness!! Where are you going?! Your Highness!!!”
[This is the timeline separator]Prince Alfonso pulled Ariadne to a small, rarely visited fountain. Ivy climbed the weathered stone structure, and unsupervised daffodils bloomed freely all around.
“…It’s so beautiful.”
Alfonso smiled proudly. His boyish, slightly petulant grin was oddly endearing, and Ariadne softly mirrored it.
She decided to drop her guard just a little. Though utterly improper by etiquette, her woman’s intuition whispered that it would be alright.
“You really hated being treated like a prince, huh?”
“This is much better.”
They faced each other and laughed together, sharing an inexplicable sense of rebellion. A comradely bond formed through doing something they weren’t supposed to. After laughing until her stomach ached, Ariadne matched his playful mood.
“Last time at the orphanage… they gave you different food, didn’t they?”
A shadow passed over Alfonso’s face. Like a bird trapped in a cage, he clearly resented the special treatment he received as a prince.
Ariadne paused briefly before asking,
“But what should I call you? You?”
“Call me ‘Alfonso.’”
Touched by the prince’s casual friendliness, Ariadne chuckled and shook her head.
“I can’t do that, Your Highness.”
“Why the sudden formality?”
“Didn’t you see Carla’s face just now? She looked ready to strangle me.”
True enough, the maid had indeed jumped at the perceived rudeness.
“If I get caught calling you ‘Alfonso,’ she definitely won’t let me off easy.”
“But I hate ‘Your Highness.’”
“Then… how about this.”
Ariadne’s eyes twinkled.
“Let’s make up a secret name.”
Alfonso looked at her. Though his youthful face held not a trace of malice, there was an ingrained air of privilege about him.
“So you’d prefer not to be overly disrespectful but instead address me by the nickname of Etruria’s sole heir to the throne? Quite confident of you, my lady?”
A younger girl might have wilted here, thinking she’d made a mistake. But Ariadne, seasoned by countless trials, didn’t even blink.
Instead, she deliberately raised an eyebrow and put on a stern expression.
“If you keep this up, I’ll just call you ‘Your Highness’ then?”
Jackpot. Alfonso’s face clearly showed his dismay.
“Please. Anything but that.”
“Your Highness, your grace is overwhelming indeed. I pray earnestly for your precious health and safety. Shall I start now?”
“No, no! Not that!”
Alfonso waved his hands frantically, surrendering completely.
“Sorry. Do whatever you want. Anything’s fine.”
Sensing her advantage, Ariadne made a simple suggestion.
“How about ‘Al’?”
The prince shook his head. It clearly didn’t appeal to him.
“‘Fonso’?”
“‘Fonso’ sounds less like a nickname and more like just a regular person’s name—more like a pseudonym than a pet name.”
The prince had strong opinions about what constituted a proper nickname. But Ariadne knew just how to handle this. She stepped forward and took his hand.
It was surprisingly large and thick for a boy. She knew that in a few years, this hand would grow even stronger.
She forcibly opened Alfonso’s palm and traced a letter onto it with her finger.
– A.
“Dear A. Let’s go with that.”
Caught off guard by her sudden touch, Alfonso froze and stared at her. The woman disguised as a maiden smiled brightly, then gently pulled her hand from his grasp. Her warmth left him.
“I think I should go now.”
Ariadne stood and glanced back at Alfonso. Even her simple ivory dress looked perfectly at home among the aged fountain and cascading ivy leaves.
For a moment, Alfonso felt the young lady before him belonged here—as if she were part of the palace itself.
“I was on my way with the maid to receive the new clothes Her Majesty promised me, but I ran off like this. If I stay out too long, I’ll surely hear unpleasant things.”
Though he wanted to hold her back, her reason was impossible to argue with.
“Ah, right. Mama won’t be happy if she finds out I was spending time with you.”
Ariadne looked at him in slight surprise. She’d assumed his cheerful demeanor meant he was utterly naive, yet this prince clearly understood his own situation far better than expected. It intrigued her deeply.
Alfonso hesitated before speaking again.
“There’s actually something I haven’t told you.”
‘Oh, I have plenty I haven’t told you either. I already knew you were a prince, and in my past life, I killed you with my own hands. By the way, you were married to my older sister. And yes—I’m a reincarnator.’ But Ariadne couldn’t possibly say any of that aloud. Instead, she simply tilted her head and asked,
“What is it?”
“Mama probably summoned you today… because of me.”
Ariadne smiled knowingly. She could see exactly what had happened, as clearly as if reading her own palm.
“So you told her about meeting me at the orphanage.”
She continued without hesitation.
“She must have been curious about what kind of girl her son’s friend is.”
“How did you know?”
Alfonso was utterly astonished. He’d never met anyone who seemed to step so effortlessly into his thoughts and back out again.
Though summoning a girl immediately after hearing his son had met her might seem like the behavior of an overbearing mother-in-law, seeing seventeen-year-old Alfonso through the eyes of her thirty-year-old self, Ariadne had to admit—it was somewhat understandable.
Prince Alfonso was breathtakingly handsome: deep blue eyes, a noble nose, a strong jawline—as if plucked straight from ancient mythology.
If the Ariadne of the past had a son like this, she would have set curfew at 4 p.m., banned all maids from the prince’s quarters, and allowed only male servants.
“But Mama didn’t actually mention inviting you today. I just had a feeling she might have, so I came to look for you myself.”
She hadn’t anticipated quite this level of involvement—it seemed Queen Marguerite’s potential as an overprotective mother-in-law was even greater than expected.
Ariadne paused briefly to consider her reply.
Ordinarily, when someone mentioned their mother, basic social etiquette demanded praise. But if a teenage boy just confessed his frustration about his own mother to someone he’d just met—and that person responded with “Your mother must have had her reasons,” it would be the social equivalent of saying, “I’m an annoying old fogey—please don’t associate with me again.”
Having navigated the uppermost echelons of high society for nine years, Ariadne calculated all of this in a single instant.
“You must feel so… unfree.”
She took a step closer and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
“It must be so stifling.”
Her fingers brushed through the boy’s smooth hair. Alfonso froze, eyes wide, as the girl drew close.
Someone who understood him, communicated with him, and smelled wonderfully good.
Her green eyes, straight nose, and red lips imprinted themselves one by one in his vision. He had never thought much about eyes before—but now, in her dark-lashed, green irises, he felt he could read countless stories.
Until yesterday, Alfonso de Carlo had been merely a child.
He hadn’t cared much about others. If the other person wasn’t a male peer sharing his interests, especially if she was female, he paid even less attention. Events, games, studies—those were what fascinated him, not people.
But today, for the first time, he felt like a boy—no, a young man. His heart raced. Her green eyes haunted his thoughts: their sparkle, her eye-smile, her lashes… then her nose, then her lips.
For the first time ever, another person’s features etched themselves meaningfully into his mind.
Male lead is a clingy little husband
One-line summary: The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
Introduction:
One day, Lu Yuner’s soul transmigrates into a female-dominant world. She enters the Imperial Academy and takes up the position of a doctoral instructor, teaching classes and grading schoolwork.
One day, she encounters the young prince Su Qingwan secretly skipping class from the male academy.
As a result, Su Qingwan is punished.
From then on, Su Qingwan sees Lu Yuner as a “thorn in his side”.
But before long, this “thorn” becomes the person he cherishes most, and he goes to great lengths to win Lu Yuner’s affection.
Mini scene 1:
One day, the sun is high in the sky but Su Qingwan still hasn’t gotten up for class.
Servant Xiaoyuan: “Young prince, it’s time for class. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Su Qingwan says arrogantly: “I’m not going. I am the esteemed prince, my status is so noble, why should I suffer this hardship? Besides, isn’t learning all this just to please women? Hmph, they’re not worthy!”
Mini scene 2:
After Su Qingwan falls for someone, he completely changes. He no longer skips class and diligently learns how to be a good husband and father. But he discovers that Sister Yuner is always surrounded by admirers.
Drunk and overcome with jealousy one day, he clings to Lu Yuner, crying beautifully like a pear blossom in the rain.
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan likes Sister Yuner.”
Lu Yuner: “Young prince, you’re drunk.”
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan isn’t drunk. Qingwan likes Sister Yuner, likes you so much, likes you to bits…” Before he can finish, Lu Yuner’s eyes flash with emotion and she leans in closer.
[Reading Guide]
1. The female lead is gentle, gracious, humble and polite but not weak. The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
2. 1v1, a bit torturous in the beginning but definitely sweet later on.
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Chapter Comments (4)
Inline Comments (8)
“Let’s say you wanted to ask me to dance, Your Highness.”
Wah! Isabella is very cunning. Perfect fit for Cesar.
“My sister and I are so close that she herself insisted we match colors—she aske
Wow! Isabella’s impudence knows no bounds. We’ll pretend to believe you this time.
– “Didn’t that older lady make her cry?”
Every time Isabella amazes me with her cunning. Smart at turning the situation to her advantage. ( ◐ o ◑ )
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Ari realmente é incrível. Cada capítulo mostra o quanto ela é inteligente e sempre um passo à frente de todo mundo. Mal posso esperar para ver até onde esse plano dela vai chegar.
I’m still curious of what Alphonso meant by the last chapter
I’m still curious of what Alphonso meant by the last chapter