Liliana had expected to be shocked by her mother’s open disparagement, yet she didn’t feel hurt in the slightest. Perhaps she had grown used to her mother’s spite long ago. She seemed to remember thinking it was normal even when she was very little.
Was there ever a time I wanted her approval—her praise? I’m really not sure...
Liliana resumed walking, pondering the question, with Marianne falling in step behind her. She was the same with her father, now that she thought about it. No matter how hard she had striven to meet his expectations, she had never felt sorrow or indignation. She was driven not by a need for approval but by her own survival instincts. Her only concern was avoiding the grim fate the game had set out for her.
If mother can’t even tolerate a short encounter with me, how will she survive the entire banquet?
The purpose of the banquet was threefold: to introduce Clyde to others, to shape outsiders’ impressions of House Clarke, and to flaunt the family’s prestige. It would be problematic if the guests discovered just how poorly some members of the family got along. Though Liliana planned to excuse herself early under the pretense of not feeling well, her mother would still need to endure her presence for the brief time she was there.
Well, that’s not my concern, Liliana concluded with a mental shrug as she entered the estate’s sunroom. She had come close enough to her quarters that she doubted she would run into her mother again, but before she could continue on her way—
“My lady, why don’t we rest here for a moment? I can fetch you some tea, if you like.”
Liliana was taken aback by the suggestion. Apart from her occasional strolls, she had fully intended to spend her stay at the estate holed up in her room.
Marianne smiled reassuringly. “I doubt the mistress will come here anytime soon. And look at this lovely weather!”
Liliana hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The sun streaming through the glass roof and the view of the courtyard made it the perfect spot for a rest. She gazed absentmindedly at the flowers outside as her delighted handmaiden went to fetch tea leaves.
Brother seems to get along with me, even if father has his ear. If I don’t hurt His Highness like I did in the game, I’m sure I can avoid ruination in Clyde’s route, where he becomes the next premier.
Liliana was sitting alone, lost in thought, when an unexpected sound drew her attention. Turning toward it, she saw an old woman and an elderly maid.
Grandmother...?
Though she remembered painfully little about her grandmother, Liliana knew her grandparents were due to arrive. The woman’s aura was sterner than almost anyone else’s. Despite her age, she kept her back straight and carried herself exactly as a virtuous noblewoman who strictly observed old customs should.
“Liliana, I presume?”
Liliana rose from her bench and executed a perfect bow. The woman may have been family, but politeness remained essential. At the sight of such a masterful display of decorum, Liliana’s grandmother, Barbara, seemed to relax slightly.
“I have something for you.”
In response to her lady’s announcement, the elderly maid stepped forward with a small parcel. Liliana accepted it without hesitation.
“Sweets from the cook,” Barbara explained. “I see no reason to dine with the sort of girl who would so frivolously abandon preparations for a banquet, though that letdown on legs seems to have gotten the wrong idea.”
The old woman referred to Belinda not as her daughter-in-law or even as a woman, but as a girl, punctuating her disdain with an insult. Liliana didn’t know precisely what Barbara had meant by Belinda having “the wrong idea,” but it was safe to assume she had witnessed what had transpired in the courtyard.
“Your grandfather is a strict man,” Barbara said. “The same goes for your father, Abram, who grew up striving to emulate him. Each found someone to give their heart to—and to those people, they devote their lives. Our role is to support them. Remember to carry yourself appropriately as a member of our house.”
With that, Barbara and her maid left the sunroom.
Liliana returned to her bench. Taken at face value, her grandmother’s words seemed the lamentations of someone burdened by duty. Liliana may not have fully related, but at least her grandmother appeared to genuinely care about her.
Maybe not everyone in my family is my enemy after all.
As awkward as the attempt had been, Barbara had seen her granddaughter spurned and tried to cheer her up. It was a kind gesture, but such consideration had its limits. Should Liliana ever come into conflict with her father or grandfather, Barbara would abandon her without a second thought.
Still, there was something in her grandmother’s words she couldn’t ignore.
She said my father and grandfather each live for a single person. Does it run in the family? And who are those people supposed to be?
In her grandfather’s case, perhaps it was his spouse—but Liliana could never imagine the same being true for her father, not after witnessing his relationship with her mother. It was curious, but not pressing, so she set it aside. A more immediate matter demanded her attention.
Liliana unwrapped the parcel from her grandmother, and the aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the sunroom. She had just taken her first bite when Marianne returned, carrying tea and cookies of her own.
“Oh? What’s this, my lady?”
With a broad smile, Liliana took out some notepaper and wrote that the cookies were from her grandmother. The handmaiden couldn’t hide her surprise; she must have been pleased that someone in the estate had shown kindness to her lady.
“What excellent timing,” she said with a smile of her own. “You can have them with your tea.”
Liliana nodded. In truth, the cookies from her grandmother weren’t particularly to her taste. She much preferred the plain ones from Marianne.