Chapter 186:
Family
THERE WERE NOW five people in the room, only two of which were smiling. Of the other three, one looked ready to throw a punch while the other two sat with blank, unreadable looks on their faces. Two smiling faces was ordinarily a good sign for occasions such as this one. Under these circumstances, one had to wonder if the smilers were right in the head. There was truly nothing to smile about.
“Thank you for making time to speak with us today.”
In contrast with Yulan’s sunny smile, Auld was a volcano ready to erupt. He looked ready to grab the boy by his collar. This was confirmation to Yulan that he was right to negotiate directly with the family’s oldest patriarch. Though this betrothal was nominally for the sake of political gain, that didn’t mean it would lead to an unhappy marriage.
“We’ve come to announce your daughter’s new living arrangement in accordance with our engagement.”
But of course, they already knew this.
Yulan’s smile was so unwavering, it was like a mask. No warmth or friendliness lay beyond it. It could only be interpreted as condescension. Make no mistake, he was condescending to them.
There came the sound of clenching teeth. If looks could kill, Yulan and Violette would both lay dead on the floor. Such was the ferocity with which this so-called “father” glared at his own flesh and blood—his hatred so visibly intense that he looked homicidal. He grew even more enraged when this elicited no reaction whatsoever from her.
It was like looking at herself from the first timeline—the girl who pinned her sister down and raised a knife. His was the same face that was reflected in Maryjune’s eyes that night. If only her apple could have fallen farther from this tree.
“Disgustingly poor manners you have, sneaking around behind my back. Clearly, I should have expected it from someone of your background,” Auld hissed like a cornered cat.
Only then did Violette’s poker face falter. Before she could rise from her seat, Yulan gently placed a hand to stop her, reassuring her with a sugary smile that he was fine. As he turned away from her, that smile twisted into a cold, sadistic sneer.
“I’d watch my words if I were you,” he said politely, raising an index finger to his lips as if sharing a secret. This playful gesture was directed at the young girl who looked nearly about to faint. “You’d be surprised to learn how many children are born under similar circumstances.”
Like your beloved angel, for instance.
Maryjune lacked the composure to cover her pale face as she teetered on the verge of tears. She didn’t seem hurt by her father’s statement so much as shocked to be forcibly reminded of her position in society. She believed in her father’s love for her without question because she’d grown up with the affirmation of a spoiled, sheltered upbringing. While they may have been a happy family, all that slack had been given to her on a rope tied to a noose.
Even her own father thought of her as a bastard. It was clear immediately that the words Yulan had once flung at her were echoing in her ears all over again, gnawing at her heart. Of all the times for that to pay off! Now this was an unexpected perk. Not that Yulan had any interest in the melodrama of Maryjune.
“I admit,” Yulan purred, “that my birth could be described as humble. Nonetheless, I’m glad your head of household seems to have taken a liking to me.”
It doesn’t matter what you think of me, scum. No matter how Auld tried to oppose this arrangement, he could never overturn it. Not just because Yulan had set it up this way, but because Auld himself had thrown away his one means to fight it. This would never have happened if only Auld had worked harder to prove his own worth.
Yulan was little more than the bastard son of a prostitute. Provided nothing tragic happened to his half brother Claudia, his paternal heritage would never be brought to light. He had brought many a tantalizing proposal to win the old man over, but even then, the easiest way to ensure the survival of the Vahan name was for Violette to be used in a political marriage. If Auld had a more valuable option to offer than Yulan, he could have easily arranged for Violette to be a sacrificial lamb while Maryjune went on with her perfect life.
Violette’s grandfather was cold, calculating, and logical, with a razor-sharp sense of intuition. But because he was Bellerose’s father, Auld had given him a wide berth. Now he would pay the price for that miscalculation. In the eyes of a man who was fanatically patriotic, Auld was a mere pawn, keeping the seat warm for the next generation.
Just then, a set of long, pale fingers rose into the air.
“Pardon me, but…might I say something?”
Beneath this tense air, in a room that might see bloodshed at any moment, the woman’s delicate smile was nothing short of eerie. This was beyond a failure to read the room—could she not feel the atmosphere crackling against her skin? Was it a lack of emotional intelligence? She was unmistakably inhuman.
Maryjune’s baby-faced mother turned her elegant smile and, as if with full confidence that her wishes would be granted, fixed her unclouded eyes on Yulan—and Violette.
Clearly Auld was a terrible judge of character—and an even worse student, or so Yulan was told. How could he possibly see this woman as a beautiful, holy saint?
“Would you not consider taking Maryjune instead?”