“Where is this Isabella girl!”

In his rage, Cardinal de Mare began his search for Isabella from the entrance on the first floor. As the butler, Nicolo, rushed upstairs to fetch Miss Isabella, the frustrated Cardinal stopped him with a roar.

“Enough! I will go myself!”

All the family members, shocked by the rare commotion at home, followed the angry patriarch. Lucrezia, who was flustered without knowing why, and Ariadne, who followed her father wondering what was going on, were also part of this procession.

He walked thunderously, and without knocking, flung open the door to his eldest daughter’s room. Isabella, as it happened, was in the middle of changing her clothes.

“Oh my!”

In a state of undress, Isabella screamed and covered her upper body with her arms. Cardinal de Mare, despite being her father, stepped back as befits a respected cleric.

But something was strange. If she was only wearing a petticoat, her upper body should have been bare. But his daughter was clearly wearing something of a deep pink color on her torso.

It wasn’t indoor clothes or pajamas to wear at home, and it wasn’t underwear to keep warm either.

It wasn’t even the weather to wear underwear in the first place.

He squinted at the suspicious deep pink item, and when he finally realized what it was for, his mouth gaped open.

“What are you, what are you, that… that… insolent…!”

Cardinal de Mare was on the verge of fainting from high blood pressure.

His precious, fairylike eldest daughter was walking around proudly with that indecent thing on her chest, which, unless she was a courtesan, or no, even if she was a courtesan, was something a person from the very bottom of society would never do!

“What are you really doing!”

He nervously motioned to the maid who was waiting on him. Seeing his signal, Maleta ran over and covered Isabella with a suitable robe.

“Are you a courtesan? Or have you become a heretic of the Moorish Empire? Are the rumors circulating in society not false?”

Isabella, who felt like she had been hit by lightning out of the blue, protested to her father.

“Dad, why do you open the door and come in without saying anything! Rumors? What rumors?”

Among all this, what caught Cardinal de Mare’s eye was the pink sapphire tiara placed on Isabella’s dressing table. It looked very expensive, but he had never bought such a thing for his daughter.

“…What is this?”

Cardinal de Mare picked up the pink sapphire tiara and turned it over. There were initials engraved on the inside.

“From O. Contarini, to dear I. Mare.”

“What is this?”

He couldn’t read the letters well, whether it was due to his growing presbyopia or his unwillingness to read. Arabella, who had been standing behind him, briskly took the tiara, read with the bright eyes of a young child, and confirmed.

“O. Contarini? If it’s O. Contarini, it’s Ottavio de Contarini?”

Arabella’s question and Cardinal de Mare’s outcry came out at the same time.

“Why is that guy here?”

“Why is the tiara he gave in your room!”

In addition to relaying rumors about the Duke of Campa, the Duke of Baldessar also hinted at several reputations of Isabella circulating in social circles.

“Yes, sire. Of course, it’s not a significant figure, but the Castilionne Baron is said to have his eyes on your eldest daughter.”

“Huh? But why does he have his eye on my daughter?”

The Castilionne Baron was a new businessman who was heavily involved in the wool industry in the capital and central northern region. A middleaged man who ran a wholesale business, he didn’t seem like he would have anything in common with Isabella.

“The eldest daughter of the Castilionne Baron is not bad looking.”

“I see. I think I heard something like that.”

Was it Camellia? He had heard that, while not as beautiful as Isabella, she was still quite a pretty daughter.

“The Castilionne Baron’s wish was to marry a noble family with land. But the eldest son of the Contarini Baron was famous for only looking at women’s faces, so the Castilionne Baron spent a lot of money and even promised a generous dowry to arrange an engagement with the eldest son of the Contarini Baron.”

“But, but why?”

Cardinal de Mare became increasingly anxious. No, no, it wouldn’t involve my daughter.

“But… your daughter…”

A sigh escaped from Cardinal de Mare’s lips after hearing the whole story.

“Oh, my God.”

Familiar with the reality that gossip in high society sometimes stirs up smoke even when there is no fire, Cardinal de Mare felt his sanity slipping away when he witnessed the evidence himself, despite having some faith in the virtue of his own daughter.

“Oh, my head.”

Even as she saw Cardinal de Mare clutching the back of his head, Isabella stared at her father with wide eyes, showing no remorse for her mistake.

“Why is this happening, Father?”

Cardinal de Mare couldn’t hold back any longer and raised his voice.

“What kind of conduct is this? Are you thinking at all? Why would you accept such an expensive gift from an outsider?”