Arabella’s death was immediately reported to Taranto, so that her elder brother and the eldest of the family, Ippolito, could attend the funeral.

The funeral of a noble family in San Carlo usually lasted for 7 days, during which the body was laid in a coffin to greet visitors. After that, a funeral mass was held in the church, followed by burial.

Ordinary people found their resting place in the common cemetery, while nobles found theirs in a separate area within the basilica.

Arabella had to wait for the family coming from Taranto, so she greeted the visitors for 14 days, a little longer than the usual 7 days. It was possible because it was midwinter.

“Sir Ippolito, a message for you to return to San Carlo immediately.”

The servant of the De Mare family managed to find Ippolito in the middle of the party in Taranto and relayed the message sent from home.

“What? Why is home doing this again?”

Ippolito glared at the servant, unable to hide his annoyance. Was his mother being capricious again? Anyway, would she really send a servant to call me back in the middle of a party? Her obsession is not a joke…

“Miss Arabella has passed away.”

“What?”

“It is requested that you return promptly to attend the funeral.”

Ippolito had no particular affection for Arabella, the youngest sister whose temper ran high.

Arabella and Ippolito were of the same age, and not long after Arabella started to speak, he left to study abroad in Padua. He rarely had a persontoperson conversation with his youngest sister.

Besides, he was enjoying life by participating in all the winter social events in Taranto. The news of the death of his unfamiliar younger sister, heard in the midst of a party full of alcohol, meat and celebrations, was half surprise and half annoyance to him.

“What happened to her all of a sudden?”

“She had an accident…”

“Ah, this is unbelievable…!”

She wasn’t sick and it was an accident? It was like a bolt from the blue. She should have been careful!

“When would you like to depart? Should I prepare the horse right now?”

It was possible to get from Taranto to San Carlo in three days and nights if the horse ran nonstop. But Ippolito did not have the intention of going so earnestly.

“The funeral mass is held 14 days later, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then prepare the carriage. I will sleep here tonight and depart tomorrow morning.”

“Excuse me? A carriage? Not a horse?”

Traveling by carriage was several times slower than running at full speed on a horse.

“Are you talking about spending the night in the open on a snowy road? Let’s hurry up in a carriage. It will take about ten days.”

Considering that the messenger sent from home took three and a half days to get to Taranto, Ippolito still had about ten days and a little more. But the servant of the De Mare family asked again with hesitation.

“…So you will not participate in the reception of guests?”

As the eldest son of the family, Ippolito was supposed to play a leading role in receiving guests. But he just snorted.

“Does it make a difference whether I’m there or not? Anyway, there’s no one important left in San Carlo now.”

He intended to skip the tiring guest reception where he wouldn’t meet many people, and only attend the funeral mass where he would stand out and get less work.

“Ah…”

The servant let out a short sigh, but what could a servant do?

“I will prepare as you instructed.”

The servant sent from home bowed and retreated out of the banquet hall.

Ippolito looked around the surroundings as he wiped his face. He was attending a winter social party in Taranto.

Important social figures were milling around him. He had to leave all these people and return to San Carlo. How regretful.

Octavio, who had seen the servant come into the party and talk to Ippolito, asked Ippolito.

“Ippolito, what happened?”

“Oh, Octavio. I just got a death notice from home.”

At the mention of a death notice, Octavio was taken aback.

“Don’t tell me, his Eminence, the Cardinal…”

There was no one in the family who was old enough to die or severely ill. The Cardinal himself and his concubine were the ones who were close to the limit of average life expectancy.

But the expression of Epolito, the source of all his material wealth, seemed too calm considering his father had passed away.

“Or perhaps your mother…?”

At Ottavio’s cautious question, Epolito laughed and shook his head.

“No no, don’t say such scary things! I heard that my little sister had an accident.”

He spoke with a touch of annoyance.

“So, I need to go back to San Carlo right away. I guess there’s no one to go with me?”

The Cardinal de Mare’s niece died, and all the great families in San Carlo would send a representative to the funeral.

However, it did not have to be an important person who went down to Taranto. The older ones left in the capital, monks, or the heads of the servants would go.

Epolito added, “Just had to die in winter.” Since Ottavio did not seem likely to go to San Carlo, he sympathized with Epolito, shaking his tongue, saying the season was bad.