Sister, I'm the Queen This Life (330 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16
Ariadne’s footsteps slowed at the shrill sound of Lucrezia’s voice slipping through the crack of the door.
“I just can’t do it. It’s too hard.”
They were undoubtedly talking about her. She came to a complete halt.
Calmly, Ariadne spoke to the flustered maid.
“My stomach suddenly hurts terribly. I need to stop by the privy first—go ahead and tell the governess that the second young lady will be a bit late.”
“But, my lady…!”
“You won’t get into any trouble. Just go and tell her exactly that.”
Ariadne removed one of the plain pearl earrings she was wearing and slipped it into the maid’s apron pocket. It was her only earring, but moments like this called for generosity.
“Keep quiet about what you’ve seen and heard, even to your master. Now hurry off.”
The bewildered maid, upon receiving the pearl earring, apparently couldn’t resist the temptation and quickly agreed, leaving exactly as Ariadne had instructed.
Ariadne pressed herself tightly against a pillar in the corridor and listened intently to the voices drifting through the door of the Cardinal’s reception room.
“No, why are you acting like this again? It was your idea in the first place to bring Ariadne here.”
“That was then, this is now! That girl is so insolent and stubborn—it’s unbearable trying to serve her!”
Cardinal de Mare’s voice came through, exasperated yet trying to soothe Lucrezia.
“Then what do you plan to tell Count Cesare? He keeps subtly hinting about her every time we meet at High Mass.”
“He was the one who originally asked for Isabella—do you really think he’ll just give up easily if we shove someone like Ariadne at him? You figure out a better solution yourself! You’re good at that sort of thing! I can’t live with that girl.”
“If you truly can’t live with her, then perhaps we should just send her off in marriage to Count Cesare sooner rather than later.”
– ‘……!’
Just as she overheard this, a sudden stir echoed from the far end of the corridor. Ariadne jumped in alarm, quickly stepped away from the reception room door, and pretended to be casually passing by as if nothing had happened.
The source of the commotion turned out to be maids heading off to clean. Apparently sensing nothing unusual, they merely bowed their heads to Ariadne and chattered among themselves as they walked past.
‘Phew.’
That was close—she felt as if she’d narrowly escaped a decade of suffering.
The idea of being hastily married off to Cesare sent chills down her spine. Ariadne realized that simply lying low and hiding wasn’t a viable strategy anymore. If she continued to drift passively with the current, her fate would be identical to her previous life.
She’d be handed off as a mere substitute to the man who cherished her elder sister like his own life—forced to stand by his side like an old piece of furniture, serving his convenience until the day came when he’d discard her pitifully.
That outcome was unacceptable. It was time to act.
[This is the timeline separator]Ariadne instinctively grasped that Cardinal de Mare and Madame Lucrezia’s interests were not perfectly aligned.
To Lucrezia, Isabella was her alter ego—a more perfected version of herself, her precious jewel whom she absolutely had to see succeed. But to Cardinal de Mare, Isabella was simply his finest ‘possession’ among all he owned.
Certainly, the Cardinal loved Isabella to a certain extent. He genuinely wished for her happiness and would willingly make minor sacrifices for her smile and peaceful daily life.
‘But only up to that point.’
Ariadne knew precisely how coldly pragmatic Cardinal de Mare could be. Recalling his actions from her past life, she shivered involuntarily from the encroaching chill—every fine hair on her arms stood rigidly on end.
Just as a well-bred horse is raised to win races, and a hunting dog may be injured in pursuit of game, to him his daughter’s essence was merely a commodity to be sold off in service of the eternal glory of the de Mare lineage.
He would educate her, groom her, and dote on her—all to ensure she fetched a high price: in exchange for a beautiful and illustrious daughter, the family would gain titles, lands, gold coins, and honor. Whether his daughter liked or disliked someone was utterly secondary.
The sole reason Cardinal de Mare refused to send Isabella to marry Cesare de Como was that, in his eyes, Isabella’s worth was far too great to be wasted on someone like Cesare.
– “Ah, my lovely daughter! Truly of our blood—our blood makes her superior, and because she’s exceptional, she is my daughter.”
The Cardinal always praised Isabella’s beauty, intelligence, and popularity in high society.
Even after ransacking every memory from her past life, Ariadne couldn’t recall a single instance where he’d ever commended Isabella’s efforts or character.
He cherished Isabella simply because she was outstanding.
As the eldest daughter, Isabella ranked first on Cardinal de Mare’s list of assets—or more accurately, second, since his cardinalate surely outranked her in importance.
Following Isabella on that list would come his prized racehorse that had won the Royal Derby, then the quail-egg-sized emerald set in his pectoral cross, and if one kept going down the list, they’d eventually reach Ariadne.
He wanted nothing more than to receive worthy compensation for his finest possession—namely, a marriage alliance with Crown Prince Alfonso, the sole heir to the throne. That was all.
‘If Father favors Isabella and intends to make her crown princess simply because her worth exceeds mine… then all I need to do is become more valuable than Isabella.’
If she gained fame, refined her beauty, and became the most distinguished young lady in San Carlo, then it would be Ariadne—not Isabella—who would be presented to Prince Alfonso as the de Mare family’s maiden.
‘I don’t even need to be the best in all of San Carlo—just better than Isabella. And if I can’t rise higher myself, then it’s enough to simply diminish Isabella’s value.’
– “He says he dislikes big women. He claims that whenever he holds you, he imagines holding me instead. He said your breasts sag like a cow’s. I’ll be the queen.”
Isabella’s melodious voice rang in Ariadne’s ears like a haunting echo. Absentmindedly, Ariadne touched her own still-flat chest. She felt no guilt whatsoever about harming Isabella.
The number-one daughter would go to Prince Alfonso; the number-two daughter would be given to Cesare de Como.
There simply was no third path. She couldn’t suddenly become a trade prodigy and sail off on a Porto Republic galley to import Eastern spices, nor could she somehow usurp the title meant for Ippolito—Lucrezia’s legitimate eldest son and heir.
Even if she generously assumed that Lucrezia, ultimately just a concubine, might abolish distinctions between legitimate and illegitimate children, and even if she went so far as to imagine poisoning both Ippolito and Isabella—there was no hereditary title in this household to inherit in the first place.
They held no noble title to pass down; they were merely the family of a high-ranking clergyman.
Thus, her only remaining option was to latch onto her father’s temporary authority and marry someone whose wealth and status she could share.
If her choices were limited to only Alfonso and Cesare—and if victory meant gaining a chance to escape Cesare—then this was a race she absolutely had to win.
Ariadne strode swiftly down the second-floor corridor and flung open the door to the young ladies’ reception room. Her late entrance drew the immediate attention of Governess Madam Romani, Isabella, and Arabella, who had all been deeply engrossed in their Galico language lesson.
Ariadne curtsied gracefully, executing perfect court etiquette.
“Good afternoon, Madam Romani.”
Her Galico accent was so smooth it was hard to believe she was an Etruscan speaker.
“Sorry to interrupt, shall we continue?”
Arabella stared at Ariadne with her mouth agape.
“How do you speak Galico so well?”
Ariadne offered a small, gentle smile in reply.
“It’s nothing special. I just picked it up by listening to others.”
Ever-kind Madam Romani, astonished, addressed Ariadne directly.
“Your accent is flawless. Where did you learn it?”
“There was someone I grew up with who spoke Galico. I only knew how to speak it, not the grammar or proper phrasing—but since studying with you, everything’s been falling into place quickly. It’s all thanks to you, Teacher.”
While preparing a plausible alibi in case anyone pressed for details, Ariadne was careful to deflect some of the credit onto Madam Romani.
Impressed by her student’s rapid progress and her own teaching prowess, Madam Romani beamed. Arabella, recalling how Ariadne had shielded her from Lucrezia’s outburst, now looked at her sister with newfound admiration.
But Isabella glared at Ariadne with burning eyes.
‘I’m the protagonist here—how dare she steal the spotlight? That’s absolutely unforgivable!’
[This is the timeline separator]Isabella gritted her teeth and threw herself into her studies, determined to regain her position as Madam Romani’s favorite pupil—but due to her shaky foundation, she couldn’t surpass Ariadne in any subject, be it Galico, Latin, history, theology, or court etiquette.
“Perfect!”
Madam Deluca, who taught court etiquette, shook her head in amazement.
Court etiquette alone filled over three hundred pages of parchment, and even after memorizing all the rules, one still had to physically master things like the precise depth of a curtsy, the appropriate speed for shifting one’s gaze, and maintaining an unhurried yet elegant posture—a skill that only truly developed through actual experience in society.
No matter how much one practiced at home, by next week they’d inevitably stumble again.
“You haven’t even made your debutante presentation yet, have you?”
“Aside from being invited once to Her Majesty the Queen’s Mass, I’ve never attended any social events.”
Madam Deluca was once again awestruck by her gifted pupil’s aptitude.
“This… this is talent!”
‘I’m sorry—it’s experience.’
[This is the timeline separator]Isabella wasn’t particularly gifted in the arts either. Ariadne herself had little talent in those areas, so the two sisters were fairly evenly matched—but it was actually young Arabella who truly excelled in this domain.
“Your lute playing is enchanting! You handle dynamics beautifully and keep perfect rhythm!”
Music teacher Miss Mancini lavished praise on Arabella. Even toward Isabella, who was glaring jealously at her triumphant younger sister, the ever-kind Miss Mancini strained to offer some compliment.
“Isabella seems to handle her mandola with such care.”
‘Aaargh!’
Unable to suppress her inner scream, Isabella hurled her ‘precious’ mandola aside, stomped out, and slammed the door behind her.
Yet Isabella still had opportunities to showcase her talents—namely, various social events and the monthly High Mass.
The grand High Mass ceremony held at San Ercole Imperial Cathedral—the largest cathedral in the capital San Carlo—was traditionally presided over by Cardinal de Mare himself. Barring exceptional circumstances, everyone residing in the capital would gather at San Ercole to hear his sermon.
Only nobles were permitted inside the cathedral; commoners crowded the outer plaza, waiting until the sermon to the nobility concluded, after which Cardinal de Mare would offer them a brief word or two before dismissing them.
The interior of San Ercole Cathedral resembled an exhibition hall of opulence, extravagance, and beauty. And in that setting, Isabella was undeniably the most dazzling jewel.
“Girls! Get ready! We must be in the carriage and out of the house by seven! We absolutely cannot be late!”
The incident Ariadne knew about was set to happen today.
The week of the Trevero Council had been the previous week. A decision regarding that matter had surely already been reached, and today’s High Mass would mark the official unveiling of the Trevero Council’s outcome in San Carlo.
It was time to seize the attention and her father’s favor that Isabella monopolized during High Mass.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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