“While trying to discipline a maid who had stolen and run away, we mistakenly…. Ah, damn. Didn’t we order to decapitate?”

“….Yes, your Grace.”

Cardinal de Mare threw the quill he was holding. Ink splashed all around and the cardinal’s pure white garb was stained with black ink.

Cardinal de Mare was not the sort of man to throw things or slam his hands, no matter how angry he was. Seeing his rare anger, the steward Nicolo shrunk his neck into his shoulders.

“How on earth does she keep causing these outrageous incidents? Even if someone ordered me, I couldn’t do this!”

Cardinal de Mare couldn’t contain his anger, banging the back of his head on the chair.

“What kind of brain structure do you have to have to be able to order a decapitation of a maid, not content with killing her?!”

Nicolo could only clench his head.

“No, does she not have any idea how this looks to others? Doesn’t it look like a mad serial killer? Doesn’t she think?”

He shook his fist in anger.

“Who wants to live virtuously? Is she supposed to be a model of faith and charity in San Carlo? Is it so hard just to be unnoticeable, to not cause accidents and to stay quietly?!”

As Cardinal de Mare started to lose his temper, as if he would immediately rush to Lucrezia, the steward Nicolo tried to calm the cardinal.

“Your Grace. Although I understand your feelings a hundred times over, we must first deal with the situation.”

“Ao!”

He hit the desk with his fist. His slender finger bones hit the mahogany desk and hurt terribly.

He clutched his backhand, wincing. Cardinal de Mare took a deep breath and gave Nicolo instructions as if he were washing his hands.

“Go like this. The maid stole and ran away, so we released someone to catch her. It cannot be the wrong person, they must catch our maid correctly, so we asked for face verification. However, due to a miscommunication, a catastrophe occurred where they killed her and cut off her head.”

He tapped the mahogany desk with his finger, then added,

“But this is, in any case, a complete mistake by the Cardinal de Mare’s residence. The Cardinal de Mare’s residence offers the most sincere apology for the failure of human management, and consoles the feelings of the unfairly treated bereaved family.”

He estimated an amount in his head and asked Nicolo.

“Nicolo. How about paying 200 ducats (about 200 million won)?”

The steward tilted his head.

“It seems possible. It’s a large amount, wouldn’t they accept it?”

“No, no. You said the local cooperative is involved?”

“Yes. Castel Labico and Comune Nuova are backing the bereaved family.”

“Those guys are not ones to just fall off the tree with their mouths open. Probably the bereaved family will have to show goodwill to the local cooperative. Raise the condolence money amount to 300 ducats (about 300 million won). When using people’s hearts, it’s best to use a lot so there’s no talk afterwards.”

“Then I will convey as you said, your Grace.”

“Yes. ‘Express deep condolences to the bereaved family and proposes to pay 300 ducats in total, 100 each to the bereaved family and the local cooperative.’ You take care of all this. I can’t trust the others.”

Cardinal de Mare leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling. Punishing Lucrezia, losing his temper, now all these things felt like too much. He wanted to forget everything and just sleep.

“300 ducats?!”

The head of the Commune Nuova cooperative was taken aback.

“Well, we must accept it. I’ve never heard of a noble giving such a generous condolence payment. Truly a man of the cloth, truly commendable, Cardinal!”

Commune Nuova was a densely populated area of the lowincome class. Naturally, there was a need for money in the area, but the amount the local residents could contribute to the cooperative was extremely limited.

There were times when the salaries of those working at the Commune Nuova cooperative were delayed. When the salary was not paid, the representative would take the blame.

The representative of Commune Nuova, always plagued by financial difficulties, argued that he should accept the condolence payment. After all, the dead person was from the neighboring district.

The head of the Castel Lavico cooperative was merely observing both sides. He was neutral, but if Commune Nuova backed out, Castel Lavico alone would have to put pressure on the Cardinal’s residence, which was a burden.

“But my daughter is dead! Can you buy a person’s life with money?”

Mr. Scampa burst into anger, shouting at the representative of Commune Nuova.

“Nobody even came to pay their respects, and there’s no mention of funeral procedures. All I hear is that they will cover it up with money. Is that all this is about?!”

However, the representative of Commune Nuova calmly retorted.

“Sympathy is shown in gold. I’ve never heard of a noble showing this much sympathy.”

He asked.

“Do you remember the condolence money that the Count of Campa gave to Cortijan of Carampan two years ago?”

50 ducats (about 50 million won).

There had been talk that the amount was overly generous to give to the young Cortijan. It was also the money that Carampan’s innkeeper received with a grimace. But Scampa was furious.

“My daughter is not a girl for sale!”

“She’s also a girl of the same age. No, Paola was older, so in reality, the product value is even lower.”

The representative of Commune Nuova was cold.

“This is an unprecedentedly generous offer. If you don’t accept it, Scampa, you’re a stupid fool.”

The representative of Castel Lavico also cautiously advised, observing the situation.

“Mr. Scampa, no one can deny that this is a very generous offer. I understand the feelings of the bereaved family. Even if they give a fortune, you wouldn’t want to agree. But not everything in the world goes the way you want it to. It would be good if you knew that this is a very advantageous proposal.”

Mr. Scampa was very agitated. The representative of Castel Lavico persuaded the representative of Commune Nuova and decided to break up today’s meeting as it was.

“Mr. Scampa, please think about it tonight. Let’s talk again tomorrow.”

In Mr. Scampa’s neat but frugal living room, the two local representatives got up and left. Mr. Scampa was sitting slackly on the sofa in the living room after the guests had left.

“Paola……”

He didn’t want anything. He just wanted his dead daughter to come back.

His elderly mother came and jabbed him in the ribs.

“Get a grip.”

“Mother?”

“Those high up people say it’s a good offer! How long will you hang on one girl?”

Mr. Scampa’s mother was the type who considered the greatest achievement of her life to be giving birth to seven daughters in a row and then finally having a youngest son.

She was dissatisfied with her daughterinlaw, who only had one granddaughter and then died, and was even more displeased with her son who was not marrying again while raising his granddaughter after his wife’s death.

“Take it when they offer.”

“Mother!”

“She was a girl without any skills. Her daily wage was 2 florins (about 20,000 won)! Is the amount of more than 300 ducats really too much?”

There was a sound at the front door.

“I’ll excuse myself for a moment.”

Mr. Scampa and his elderly mother looked at the entrance at the same time. The voice of a young, no, a girl echoed through the entrance.

“Of course, a higher amount than 300 ducats is also possible.”

A girl with thick black hair under a hood stepped into the living room.

She approached the couch where Mr. Scampa was sprawled out and bowed her head to him.

“But one’s life should be paid for with a life, not money.”

It was Ariadne, her green eyes twinkling.