Chapter 13
“Dad, aren’t we going?”
The moment I urged Father to leave, my cousins took it as a sign they were being ignored—and immediately started running their mouths.
“What, are you scared?”
“Look at them trying to run away because they can’t handle what they said!”
“If you don’t have the guts to stand by your words, then keep your mouth shut next time, you stupid half-breed.”
“Enough!”
Father finally snapped.
He’d always stayed quiet whenever people insulted him, but the moment anyone spoke badly about me, he lost his composure.
He’d spent his whole life walking on eggshells, thinking he’d stolen his brothers’ place in the family. He believed keeping his head down was the right thing to do—and so he endured everything in silence.
Of course, in my past life, things never got this heated. He never had a reason to get so angry back then.
I’d always kept my distance from Caleb, Rhett, and Carl—Grandmother’s precious grandsons.
Getting involved with them only ever made things worse, so I ignored whatever nasty things they said about me.
That’s why nothing like this had ever happened before.
“You three, stop it right now! Don’t you dare say such awful things—calling people names like that! Where did you even learn such disgusting words?”
“But it’s not wrong,” one of them muttered.
“He’s right,” another added.
Even though my father was the marquis, the kids didn’t seem to care at all.
Well, it made sense. Their fathers treated him like dirt, so of course the kids would do the same.
“Hah. You’re such wicked children,” Father said, shaking his head. “There’s no difference between you and my Amannet.”
“What’s this? You’re raising your voice at your elders, Leocal?”
“Brother!”
“No matter if you’re a marquis, this kind of attitude is disgraceful. No wonder this family’s falling apart.”
“You used to be such an obedient child. What happened to you?”
Ah. There it was—classic gaslighting.
They’d been manipulating him like this since he was young, controlling him with guilt and shame.
As expected, Father’s eyes flickered in uncertainty.
He looked lost—like he was asking himself, Am I really the one in the wrong? Is all of this my fault?
“Your daughter being treated this way is your doing,” one of them added coldly.
At that, Father flinched. His shoulders hunched as if he’d been struck.
Watching him like that made my chest tighten painfully—like I’d just swallowed a pile of hot coal.
Right. I used to be like that too, I thought bitterly.
Back then, I’d believed them when they said everything was my fault. How could anyone stay confident when everyone around you kept insisting you were the problem?
But not anymore.
Those men—my so-called uncles—were just that kind of people. People who needed everything to go their way. People who didn’t care if they hurt others, as long as they felt powerful.
Not this time. I’m protecting my dad.
Father’s hand hovered helplessly in the air, trembling slightly. I grabbed it before he could pull back.
“What’s so wrong about how I’m treated?” I asked.
“What?”
“I mean, I never thought I was treated differently. But apparently, I was?”
“Be quiet! Children shouldn’t interrupt when adults are talking!” my first uncle roared, his face red with anger.
But I wasn’t the type to shrink back anymore.
“I know I’m interrupting,” I said calmly. “But I really want to know. Oh, so I am treated differently? I thought Grandma just had her own way of showing affection.”
On the outside, Grandmother always acted like the perfect matriarch—loving and fair to all her grandchildren.
Whenever we went to public gatherings, she never showed her true colors.
Because she couldn’t afford to ruin her image.
She needed everyone to believe our family was harmonious, that every child was precious to her.
She put on that act so well that people actually envied me. They said I was lucky to have such a kind grandmother.
And stupidly, I believed them once.
I thought she just didn’t know how to express her love.
“How dare—”
“Come on,” Caleb interrupted. “You heard her earlier. She said she doesn’t like you. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“Oh. So that is discrimination,” I said, nodding thoughtfully. “I used to tell people Grandma liked me. Guess I shouldn’t say that anymore.”
“What?”
“You said it yourselves. Grandma doesn’t like me, right? I used to think she didn’t discriminate, but I guess I was wrong.”
Their faces twisted in irritation.
“You idiot!”
“You’re seriously dumb! You actually believed that?”
But my first uncle, Behel, wasn’t laughing anymore. His expression froze.
“No. There’s no discrimination.”
“There is, though! Right, Father?” Caleb insisted.
“Quiet, Caleb. I said there isn’t.”
Behel’s tone turned sharp. He couldn’t let cracks show in the perfect image their family had built.
If word got out that there was favoritism—or worse, mistreatment—it would destroy Grandmother’s reputation.
And no one cared about that image more than Behel.
After his harsh warning, the others went silent. But the resentment on their faces was obvious.
“Amannet,” Behel said suddenly, calling my name with fake gentleness.
“Your grandmother just has her own way of showing love. It’s not favoritism.”
“Really? But they just said it was.”
“They don’t know what they’re talking about. Don’t let them put foolish thoughts in your head. If she truly hated you, would she even invite you here? Would she plan a birthday party for you tomorrow?”
I gave him my best innocent smile, pretending to believe him.
“Hmm. That might be true.”
“See? So don’t misunderstand. Kids just say things without thinking.”
“Okay.”
“You understand, right? And you can trust what I say. I am the smartest one in this family, after all.”
“I don’t really get it, but okay. You sound more trustworthy than they do.”
Of course, I didn’t believe a word of it.
But Behel looked relieved anyway. He didn’t want anyone—even me—spreading the idea that I was being treated unfairly.
“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow at your birthday party. I’ll make sure to bring a present you’ll love.”
“Got it. Dad, let’s go home now.”
“But—she really is hated!” Rhett shouted. “Grandma can’t stand her, and she knows it!”
“Yeah! If you keep defending her, she’s just gonna get cocky again!” Carl added.
“Enough, both of you,” Behel snapped. “I get that you want to tease your little cousin, but that’s enough foolish talk.”
He was desperate to end the situation. The longer it dragged on, the worse it looked for him.
“B-but, Father—!”
“Quiet.”
His crimson eyes flashed like a warning light. The rowdy boys immediately shut their mouths.
That silent threat was more effective than any shout.
“Now, go home. You must be busy preparing for the birthday tomorrow.”
“…”
“Leocal,” Behel said coolly. “You should take better care of your daughter.”
“Yes, Brother. Let’s go, Amannet.”
Even Father, who’d been fuming earlier, obeyed like a marionette.
His hand, small and rough, trembled in mine.
So thin and fragile—like a dried branch.
I squeezed it tightly and swung it playfully, trying to cheer him up.
Seeing him worry about whether I was hurt when he was the one bleeding inside—it made my chest ache.
“Let’s go home, Dad!”
“Yes, let’s.”
“I’m going to eat a ton of chocolate when we get back.”
He smiled faintly. “You should. Sweet things are perfect for days like this. Eat as much as you want, Amannet…”
My relatives’ disapproving stares burned into our backs as we left, but I didn’t care anymore.
All I could think about was the mountain of chocolate waiting for me at home—
and how light my steps felt after finally saying everything I’d always wanted to say to them.
