Sister, I'm the Queen This Life (330 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 3
Cesare snorted.
“Isabella was meant for me from the very beginning! The most beautiful woman belongs with the strongest man. Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt when your father pushed you forward instead of your older sister?”
Ariadne stared blankly at Cesare, her mouth agape.
“Your sister was the most beautiful young lady in San Carlo. When I sent a marriage proposal, damn it all—they pushed you forward instead! Do you know how unjust that felt? What on earth was wrong with me?”
With Ariadne standing right before him, Cesare poured out, in excruciating detail, the sorrow he’d felt at being rejected.
Ariadne was a “good girl.” She repeatedly endured her man’s absurd words because that was the only way she’d ever learned to earn love.
She could never compete with her stunningly beautiful older sister in terms of looks.
Though she loved studying, her irritable stepmother kept sabotaging her education under the excuse that scholarly pursuits weren’t proper virtues for a young lady, so Ariadne couldn’t learn much.
Ariadne only knew how to be “good.” She wasn’t naturally gentle or kind-hearted.
But by relinquishing what was hers—by yielding, bowing her head, apologizing, and submitting—she carved out a place for herself in a world that otherwise wouldn’t grant her one. At least, that’s what she’d believed—until today.
“So… I was just a replacement?”
Cesare’s handsome face, chiseled like a deity carved into marble, twisted into a look of disbelief. His laughter bordered on maniacal.
“A replacement?”
He strode forward abruptly, reached out, and lifted Ariadne’s chin with his hand.
Through clenched teeth, he spat out each word slowly and deliberately.
“Something has to be replaceable for there to be a replacement. You weren’t even worthy of that title.”
Ariadne trembled violently but scrutinized every detail of Cesare’s expression.
His upper lip curling to expose his canines when angry, his high nose bridge leading up to his striking reddish-brown eyebrows, the movement of the muscles on his broad forehead rippling with fury.
And those icy blue eyes—eyes clouded with incomprehensible rage.
She knew Cesare too well. Though he was a man impossible to understand with logic, she had internalized his patterns deep in her heart.
She had a feeling—today would be the last time she ever saw Cesare.
He roughly jerked his right hand away from her chin. Overpowered by his strength, Ariadne collapsed onto the bedroom floor as if dragged there.
“Get out of my sight. Never show your face to me again.”
She’d had countless hints. It was she herself who’d stubbornly clung to hope like a foolish ox, chewing on it over and over again.
She’d known it would come to this.
* * *
Cardinal de Mare, though a clergyman, had fathered many children, much like numerous other clergymen of his era.
His mistress, Lucrezia, came from noble birth and had borne him three children, acting as though she were his lawful wife.
He raised all three as though they were heirs of a great noble house.
Among them, Isabella—the second child and eldest daughter—though still only seventeen, was already famed throughout high society for her beauty, and was both Lucrezia’s treasure and Cardinal de Mare’s pride.
“Father, I don’t want to marry that man.”
She coaxed the Cardinal affectionately, her peach-like skin and flaxen hair enhancing her angelic charm. Her amethyst-like eyes shimmered pitifully.
“They say he’s as savage as a beast. And there are rumors he’s illegitimate.”
Cardinal de Mare stroked his angelically beautiful daughter’s head.
“Yes, yes, your old man knows. Though he’s publicly declared the prince’s cousin, in truth, he’s the king’s bastard. I have no intention of marrying my daughter off to some bastard.”
He spoke as if his own children were legitimate heirs.
Isabella smiled faintly. That pure, innocent smile transformed her momentarily into an adorable fairy.
“You’ve always told me to uphold the de Mare name. I’ll become the most beautiful and noble lady in this kingdom. I can’t possibly let myself end up as merely a countess.”
Cardinal de Mare nodded thoughtfully.
“Let’s just say our Isabella fell ill for a while. They can’t force a sick child into marriage.”
“But we can’t simply ignore Count de Como’s proposal, can we?”
A cold voice cut in from behind.
It was Lucrezia, the Cardinal’s mistress.
“He’ll soon be made Margrave. We shouldn’t offend him.”
A margrave was tasked with defending the kingdom’s borders. Though granted military authority, he would have to leave the capital—an ambiguous promotion or demotion for Count de Como.
One thing was certain: Margrave Cesare de Como was not a match they wished for their daughter. They couldn’t possibly send her off to some remote corner of the countryside with a man who might die any day in a border skirmish.
Yet, if they refused to give their daughter to a margrave with an army at his back, and that very margrave later decided to march on the capital in rebellion, disaster would strike. Even if they wouldn’t sacrifice their most precious child, they still had to maintain a connection—preferably one of little personal value, since it might need to be severed at any moment.
“A bastard belongs with another bastard. Send Ariadne, Your Eminence.”
“Ariadne…? That’s a name I haven’t heard in ages.”
Cardinal de Mare gave a pale laugh.
Ariadne’s mother had been the handmaiden of Mistress Lucrezia. On a night of torrential rain, a drunken Cardinal de Mare mistakenly took the handmaiden for Lucrezia, and when Lucrezia discovered this, she flew into a furious rage.
But by then, the handmaiden was already carrying the Cardinal’s child. The baby born was not a son, nor did she resemble the Cardinal in the slightest—she was a daughter.
After giving birth, the handmaiden was locked away in a room at the top of a tower and died within a few years. Ariadne, separated from her mother at birth, grew up in the servants’ quarters.
Having received no proper education, Ariadne couldn’t read or write, paint, or play any musical instrument. Then, suddenly one spring when she turned fifteen, Nicolo, the Cardinal’s steward, instructed Miss Ariadne to pack her belongings and move into the inner residence.
At the time, she thought her father had finally remembered her. She believed she now had a true family—that the noble family beyond the estate walls had at last forgiven her mother’s lowly status and accepted her as one of their own.
What family?
If family meant letting someone suck you dry to the bone and then striking you in the back once you became useless, then Cardinal de Mare’s three children and Ariadne were a flawless family indeed.
[This is the timeline separator]「We accept your proposal. The daughter of House de Mare shall be betrothed to Count de Como.」
When Cesare de Como received this reply, his heart leaped with joy. Isabella, the one and only daughter the Cardinal had ever presented to high society, was every man’s secret love and ultimate aspiration. Winning her hand would be proof he was the most accomplished man in the capital.
Isabella’s porcelain-white skin flushed faintly pink, her flaxen hair framing a beauty rivaling that of angels depicted in religious icons. And when her amethyst eyes happened to glimmer with a smile, she resembled a mischievous sprite from ancient myths.
Yet her beauty peaked when Isabella wore an air of solemn grace. When sorrow touched that noble, pure visage—like a marble statue come to life—anyone who saw her would ache with the desperate urge to wipe away her sadness.
And that was precisely how Isabella appeared before Cesare de Como now.
“Miss Isabella, why do you look so burdened?”
“……”
“Do I not please you? Though I hold a noble title instead of royal succession rights, I am still the king’s cousin and Count de Como. My soon-to-be domain is both wealthy and beautiful. Among all the nobles in the capital, there is no better match for you. I would stake everything I have to make you happy…!”
Isabella cut him off.
“It’s not me.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not me who is to be betrothed to you, Count Cesare.”
Cesare was stunned.
“But the reply to my proposal was clearly affirmative…”
Isabella lifted her amethyst-like eyes and gazed at him with heartbreaking sympathy.
“The ‘daughter of de Mare’ mentioned in your proposal refers to my younger sister, Ariadne—a pitiful girl scarcely known in society.”
Her delicate voice sounded like heavenly music to Cesare’s ears.
“She made a huge fuss with Father, saying she had nothing in her life and begged to be allowed to marry the finest man in the entire Etruscan Kingdom. Her will was so stubborn, no one could stop her.”
Isabella lowered her golden lashes and let out a deep sigh.
“I… have already had so much more in life than my sister. Father said it was only right for me to yield to her this time…”
Tears brimmed in her violet eyes, full of poignant appeal. She deliberately lowered her head, as if ashamed to let him see her tears.
“I cannot disobey my father, Count Cesare.”
Her bowed head looked heartbreakingly fragile.
“I’ve always admired you from afar during the grand cathedral services. But now we’re to become family, aren’t we? Romantic feelings aren’t permitted between family members. Please bury this emotion deep in your heart and remember me only with kindness and goodwill.”
This was utterly absurd. Cesare, who had been listening in a daze, finally found his voice.
“But…!”
“Hush.”
Isabella raised a finger to his lips. Her pale, translucent fingertip gently pressed against his soft lip, making contact with the delicate membrane. Cesare inhaled sharply at the unexpected warmth.
“Ariadne is a kind girl too. Please treat her well. That’s all I came to say.”
With those words, Isabella de Mare quietly turned and walked back toward her family’s pew in the grand cathedral.
Cesare stared blankly after her retreating figure, then suddenly noticed a gauzy lace handkerchief she’d dropped on the floor.
He picked it up and carefully tucked it into his chest. He longed to smell its fragrance, yet even that felt like sacrilege. He thought he could faintly feel its lingering warmth against his breast. He placed his right hand over his heart where the handkerchief lay.
– Thump, thump.
His heart pounded. He couldn’t tell whether it raced from excitement at seeing Isabella—or from rage at having her snatched away before his very eyes.
When he raised his head, his vision immediately fixed on Cardinal de Mare conversing with attendants in the distance—and beside him, a dark-haired girl standing with her head bowed.
She was unnaturally tall, her stooped posture reminiscent not of a pampered noble but of a servant used to menial labor, and her sun-darkened skin seemed rustic and coarse.
He glared endlessly at the white-robed Cardinal and the black-haired girl huddled beside him. His golden trophy had been within arm’s reach—and those two had ruined his life.
[This is the timeline separator]“Jacomo!”
“Yes, Your Grace, Regent Duke!”
“Take Miss Ariadne to the top of the western tower for convalescence. Her madness has worsened—she’s utterly unfit to fulfill her duties as queen. She looks disgraceful; handle this discreetly so no commoners see her on the way.”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
– Clang!
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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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