“Aren’t you being too cruel?”
“Ha, me?”
“We were family. Me, them, all of us. The people who were once family are falling apart, and yet, how can you be so heartless?”
Ah, so it wasn’t just tears hanging from her eyes. Verita’s tear-filled eyes shimmered with deep resentment. She swallowed her sobs, forcing them down her throat.
As her cries escalated into full-blown sobbing, sighs of sympathy for her echoed around us.
Lilien’s mouth fell open. Clutching her chest as if she were the one being wronged, she spoke up.
“Who exactly is being cruel here? How dare you say—”
“Lilien.”
I stretched out my arm to stop her, then shook my head, signaling her not to interfere.
Lilien looked up at me with questioning eyes. As she silently asked for an explanation, I merely smiled and glanced around.
People passing by the terrace and even the staff had their eyes on us. Though I didn’t recognize anyone, some of them, judging by their appearance, seemed to be minor nobles. Their curious gazes carried a hint of pity for Verita, who knelt on the ground, sobbing pitifully.
Look at that. She knows exactly how to use sympathy to her advantage.
If Lilien reacted too strongly here, and someone recognized her, rumors could spread about a noblewoman forcing a commoner to kneel. The scandal would be inevitable.
People love to separate what they see into good and evil. And if a story is interesting enough, the truth doesn’t matter.
I stood silently, watching Verita with cold, emotionless eyes. It was a strange experience.
Unlike the fire burning in my chest, my mind was growing colder and colder.
Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Verita lifted her chin. Then, as our eyes met—my gaze devoid of any emotion—she flinched.
“Sister…?”
“Verita, are you accusing me of betraying our family? Are you calling me ungrateful?”
I deliberately exaggerated her words. At that, her rose-colored eyes wavered in panic.
“N-no, of course not. I’ve always considered you my family, but you’re being so cold—”
“If you really thought of me as family, you wouldn’t have slept with my husband.”
Gasps filled the air. The sound of people sucking in their breaths followed almost immediately.
I raised my voice, making sure everyone heard me.
“I took you in as a sister, even though you were nothing more than a thief’s daughter. And this is how you repay me?”
Even thinking about it now, it was disgusting. It was the kind of absurd tragedy that wouldn’t even appear in the worst third-rate plays—where a woman gives everything to her adopted sister, only to lose her husband to her as well.
Onlookers began whispering, their imaginations filling in the gaps. Soon, a few people recognized me from the portraits published in the Imperial Gazette.
They’re having fun, aren’t they?
Honestly, I found these people, who turned others’ pain into entertainment, far more detestable than Verita.
But there was no faster or more effective way to turn the situation around.
Verita started to stand up, but upon hearing the sneers and scornful whispers around her, she hesitated and turned away.
“What? Are you embarrassed? I told you, if you try to use your connection to me, I’ll make sure everyone sees you as the daughter of a thief. You never should have dared to involve Lilien.”
At that moment, Verita’s eyes widened in shock.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she had just realized something.
“Did you humiliate me just to protect Lady Lilien?”
“For once, you’re quick to catch on.”
“But… but you’re my sister…”
Verita bit her lip, her gaze filled with resentment. Then, after a moment, she spoke again.
“You’re my sister. Why would you choose her over me?”
I was momentarily speechless. It was as if she believed she had been betrayed.
She kept stealing glances at Lilien, standing beside me, with sharp, accusing eyes—like a child whose toy had been taken away.
How absurd. She was actually jealous? Did she really think we could go back to being sisters?
“I see now, Verita. You never listen to a word I say. You still believe that if you kneel and apologize, I will forgive you, don’t you?”
Verita remained silent, her clenched fists turning pale as she gripped the cold marble floor.
Now that I thought about it, she was just the same as when we ran into each other at the boutique…
“Arrogant and shameless, Verita.”
Verita looked up at me, dumbfounded.
To her, the word ‘arrogant’ had never applied to her in her entire life.
“W-what did I do? I’m asking for forgiveness—”
“And you’re making it sound as if I’m cruel for not accepting your apology.”
A single tear rolled down Verita’s cheek.
“I’m doing this for you, too. Living with hatred is painful, isn’t it?”
“What makes you think it’s painful? Do I look like I’m suffering to you?”
Verita opened her mouth but failed to find words.
I smirked.
“You think forgiveness is a virtue? That understanding others’ mistakes is a sign of humility? That hatred eats away at your soul? Those are all ideas created by the guilty.”
“…”
“How many times do I have to tell you?”
Verita’s soft gaze suddenly turned sharp.
“You’re no saint either. You deceived Devon into divorcing you. And his imprisonment for tax evasion—wasn’t that your doing—”
“Yes, you’re right. Everyone makes mistakes. I am not without fault. But Verita…”
I leaned in lazily, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I whispered.
“I’ve already told you, again and again. I will never forgive you.”
“…”
“Not now. Not ever. Not you, not Devon, not Viscountess Dien.”
I scoffed and straightened up, my cold eyes fixed on Verita.
“So, don’t think a mere apology can erase your sins.”
I clicked my tongue in disdain and turned my back on her, walking away with Lilien.
As I left the terrace, Verita slowly raised her head.
“You won’t even visit Devon in prison?”
I stopped and looked back. She stared at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Visit?
I let out a dry laugh before replying in an icy voice.
“You can take care of him yourself. The only time I’ll see Devon again is at his funeral. And when that day comes, I’ll be riding in a carriage of flowers, popping champagne, and celebrating. So, don’t bother worrying.”
Verita’s head dropped. She clenched her fists against the marble floor.
She no longer cried or begged. She just sat there, like a lifeless statue.
I scoffed and turned away, leading Lilien, who was glaring at Verita with pure hatred.
“Let’s go.”
As we left the café, I glanced back one last time. Verita remained frozen in place, her figure shrinking into the distance until she was nothing but a dot.
And I never looked back again.
Only after a long time did Verita finally come to her senses.
What had just happened felt like a dream.
Etricia had abandoned her to protect someone else.
She had never imagined such a thing in her entire life.
Up until now, even when Etricia was cold to her many times, Verita had convinced herself that it was all just a way of punishing her.
That if she asked for forgiveness, everything would go back to how it used to be.
Because in Verita’s memories, Etricia had always been generous.
That’s why she had gone to see Lilien.
She thought that if Etricia heard about her pitiful situation, she might show some mercy.
She even hoped that maybe Etricia would calm down and things would return to the past.
But today, even that thin hope disappeared.
‘Sister…’
Did she abandon me? For real?
The image of Etricia standing tall beside someone else, looking down at her, was still vivid in her mind.
That spot—was supposed to be hers.
It had to be hers.
Verita suddenly felt dizzy.
It was as if the world had collapsed and the ground had vanished beneath her.
Blankly, she wiped her tears and forced herself to get up.
“Ah…”
Her legs were numb, and she fell forward with a thud.
She supported herself with her arms, but no one came to help her up.
It was utterly miserable.
Verita’s eyes welled up with tears again.
Drip, drip—the tears fell between her fingers.
She felt sorry for herself—so pitiful, so sad.
She needed comfort. From anyone…
Then suddenly, one person came to mind, and her eyes widened.
“Lunox…”
Last time, Lunox had asked to meet with the Viscountess Dien, but Verita had avoided it with one excuse or another.
The last time she saw Lunox, he was very different from the cheerful and sly man she used to know.
He had smiled with a face she had never seen before—one that gave her chills.
It was creepy enough to make her feel like she couldn’t breathe.
Maybe Lunox didn’t mean anything by it.
Maybe it was just her imagination.
But Verita believed that just hearing Etricia’s name would make Antra grind his teeth.
If Lunox met someone like that… she didn’t know what kind of disaster might happen.
That’s why she had kept the two of them apart until now…
But as she recalled the contempt in Etricia’s eyes, Verita’s chest throbbed with pain.
“I don’t care anymore… Sister brought this on herself…”
Stumbling, she left the café and headed toward Lunox, all alone.
She needed comfort. It didn’t matter who gave it.
It didn’t matter what happened next.
Nothing mattered anymore.
