Chapter 16
“I’m having dinner with my family tonight.”
“Oh, congratulations.”
The response didn’t match the enthusiasm it was meant to convey. Instead of pointing out his lackluster tone, Calliope simply crossed her legs and leaned back comfortably in her chair.
“Tell me about Ditron Anastas.”
“…Excuse me?”
Jack’s face visibly twisted. When she saw even a flicker of disdain in his expression, Calliope realized—he didn’t like Ditron either.
Honestly, in this family, it was easier to count the people who didn’t dislike him—because there weren’t any. Ditron was arrogant, violent, and sly. Still, he wasn’t stupid. He had a knack for slipping into positions of power at just the right moment.
“Can’t I talk about the other family members instead?”
“No need.”
“Why not? That man’s only half-related by blood, anyway!”
“If you think about it, the others aren’t technically related by blood either.”
“…Fair point.”
Jack gave in surprisingly easily, especially for someone who had just raised his voice. Still, the displeasure on his face was obvious, so Calliope asked casually:
“You really hate Ditron that much?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m not even correcting you for dropping the honorifics.”
“What do you normally call him?”
“The Elder.”
“And when you’re alone?”
“Bastard.”
Calliope rubbed her forehead for a moment. She completely agreed with his sentiment, of course—but she’d never actually said it out loud before. Well, it seemed Jack did have at least one admirable trait. Being that honest with a superior takes more guts than most people have.
“I didn’t like you much before, Jack… but you’re starting to grow on me.”
“Unfortunately, milady, I can’t return your feelings. There’s just too big of an age gap.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“My apologies. I got carried away by your praise.”
Calliope squinted at him, watching him spout nonsense with a completely straight face. Then it hit her—she didn’t actually know how old he was. She had a rough guess, but it was just an estimate based on appearance. After all, she’d never had a reason to care how old her father’s secretary was.
“How old is Lord Beckham this year?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Oh… yikes.”
Calliope couldn’t help but let out a genuinely sympathetic sigh. His face was on the handsome side, but at best, he looked like he was in his late twenties. Maybe even early thirties. In other words—he looked older than he was. Jack nodded as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“People often tell me I look more mature than my age.”
“Good thing you’re an optimist.”
“Thank you for the kind words.”
“Alright, enough small talk. Tell me about Ditron Anastas.”
At her firm tone, Jack paused, lost in thought. He wasn’t sure where to start or how much to say. Calliope quietly waited, drifting into her own thoughts.
She had lost her gentleness long ago—after enduring constant torment from Ditron Anastas. Her sharp, steely nature didn’t come from her second chance at life. It had been forged long before that. But despite everything she had suffered, she realized she didn’t actually know much about him.
“Ditron Anastas is the elder brother of the former Marquis. That makes him the current Marquis’s uncle.”
“I know that much.”
“How do you know—never mind. Anyway, even though the title went to the former Marquis, Ditron never left the estate. He stayed by his brother’s side and got involved in various business ventures. Honestly, he wasn’t that great of a businessman, but he wasn’t terrible either. He didn’t make huge profits, but he didn’t rack up losses either. That probably made it hard to kick him out. Plus, they were family. As you know, the former Marquis had a soft spot for people close to him.”
“I’m not too sure about that.”
“For someone who usually knows all sorts of odd things, it’s surprising you don’t know this. The real problem began after the former Marquis and his wife died in a carriage accident. The only one left was the current Marquis, still just a child at the time. Ditron Anastas used the excuse of helping him to seize control of the family.”
“And Ditron probably started bringing in distant relatives and sycophants who flattered him, hoping for favors. He handed out positions to those bootlickers, and they slowly pushed out the original elders and took over their spots.”
Jack raised an eyebrow and nodded in agreement.
“That’s exactly what happened. The Marquis held nothing more than an empty title. It wasn’t until he came of age and fought in the war that he was able to earn some merit and regain a portion of the family’s authority.”
“But dealing with the people who had already built such strong shields around themselves must’ve been impossible. And… around then, he must’ve married my mother.”
“Yes.”
Despite not usually being the sensitive type, Jack knew to hold his tongue here. Calliope had eventually learned the truth herself after entering the family—that her mother hadn’t been abandoned, but simply couldn’t be protected because of the internal power struggles. Her father hadn’t wanted to let her go.
“After divorcing my mother, my father remarried Lady Circe from the Duke of Dylas’ household to fully regain control of the family, didn’t he?”
“That’s right. Lady Circe, the current Marchioness, was very close to the Duke of Dylas—she had his full support.”
But understanding something logically and accepting it emotionally are two different things. If he had truly loved her mother, he shouldn’t have dragged her into such an unstable situation. He should’ve built a fortress strong enough to protect her before ever reaching out his hand.
Calliope let out a cold scoff without meaning to, and Jack quietly studied her face.
“If the Duke supported him, I imagine he must’ve tried to interfere in family matters as well.”
“The Marquis did rely on the Dylas family, but in truth, it was more Lady Circe’s influence than the Duke’s. After getting engaged to the Marquis, she worked hard to clean out the parasites that had been calling themselves elders within the family. And for the most part, she succeeded.”
“But Ditron Anastas is the one who remained?”
“He had twelve businesses under his name alone. When his allies started getting pushed out one by one, that old man got crafty.”
Realizing he wouldn’t be able to keep his position, Ditron withdrew the shares he had handed out to his sycophants and consolidated them all under his name. The Marchioness tried to take over those businesses, but he was too stubborn and too sly. She couldn’t fully dismantle them.
“She managed to take back a few, but eight still remain. Those are proving difficult to reclaim. But from the way you’re talking, you already knew most of this. Why ask me?”
“Well, I needed the full picture—but honestly, that’s not what I really wanted to know.”
“Then what is it?”
Calliope smiled at him, her tone just slightly apologetic.
“What does Ditron Anastas like? And what does he hate?”
As she expected, Jack’s face twisted in disgust. His expression clearly said, Why would I know something like that? But Calliope didn’t back down.
“You’ve lived in the same house. Even if it wasn’t by choice, you must’ve picked up a few things.”
“I suppose I have… but I can’t say it’s a pleasant topic.”
“Same here. Now talk. I need this.”
Jack stared at her for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind. She simply waited, maintaining her calm smile. She pushed her cold teacup aside and gently rested her hands on her lap. At last, Jack sighed.
“There isn’t much, but I’ll tell you what I know. Though I can’t imagine what you’re planning.”
“I can’t explain, but I swear to you—”
She leaned in slightly and whispered as if sharing a harmless secret.
“—I’ll be the worst misfortune that ever happens to him.”
Jack shook his head slowly as he looked at her. She was smiling like an innocent child, but he began listing Ditron’s personal preferences: the kind of tea he liked, his favorite tailor, the type of people he favored—and the kind he despised.
Calliope absorbed every word, calmly tapping her fingertip against the rim of her half-empty teacup. In Jack’s eyes, she looked like a cat gleefully toying with a trapped mouse. After finishing his explanation, Jack added something as if it had just occurred to him:
“Lately, he’s become very interested in health foods and herbal medicine. He’s been spending an absurd amount of money on it. His body’s grown pretty weak with age.”
Calliope removed her hand from the teacup without a word. She already knew that part.
The reason she didn’t know much about Ditron, despite everything he’d put her through…
“…He still looks healthy on the outside, but according to a doctor I secretly consulted, he likely doesn’t even have five years left.”
…was because he would die in just two.
Not five years—just two more, and he would pass peacefully.
But Calliope had no intention of letting him die peacefully.
As sunlight curled its way into the library, she smiled quietly. It was a different kind of smile than before—and Jack, taken aback by the shift, fell silent. A moment ago, she’d seemed like a playful cat. Now, she looked like a hungry predator.
“…I won’t ask what you’re planning—but please, don’t drag me into it.”
“We’ll see.”
With a firm snap, Calliope closed the book she’d been holding throughout their conversation and stood up. Jack, like a lazy beast, rose slowly and followed behind her.
Her footsteps tapped lightly and cheerfully along the corridor, while Jack trudged after her with a deliberate slowness. The servants they passed glanced at them carefully, sensing the tension.
Having only nibbled on a few cookies for lunch, Calliope decided to focus on choosing her dress and accessories for that evening’s dinner. When she returned to her room, everything—from her clothes to her jewelry and other daily items—had already been neatly arranged, as if they’d always belonged there.
