Chapter 19
Kaphir had been nagging out loud when he suddenly realized something strange—Carolie, who would usually yell back at him the moment he scolded her, was completely silent. He turned to look at her.
Her cheeks were puffed up, and her big eyes were filled with tears, a mix of sorrow and frustration welling up inside them.
Oh no. I messed up.
Kaphir realized a little too late that he had gone too far. And by the time you realize it, it’s usually already too late.
“Why?! Why won’t you let me eat the cake?!”
Her voice, laced with tears, echoed through the dining room. Kaphir rushed to cover her mouth, then hesitated, trying to calm her down—but it was no use.
“You still play with that friend Mom told you not to! Why can you and not me?! I’m going to tell on you!”
“Shhh! Carolie, I’m sorry! Please be quiet! Shhh! If Mom finds out, I’m dead. You can have the cake! You can eat all of it!”
Now desperate, Kaphir clamped his hand over her mouth and began pleading. Still, the tears kept flowing.
Out in the corridor, Calliope was walking away from the dining room. She heard Carolie’s cries echoing like thunder behind her and couldn’t help but smile. She’d have to send Susan out on an errand tomorrow morning. One day, they’d be too grown up to be this amusing—but for now, they were just too cute.
Leaving the main building behind, Calliope made her way toward the annex. That was where the person she intended to see was currently staying.
Ditron Anastas.
It had been quite some time since he’d been driven out of the main house and banished to the annex. In the past, Calliope herself had lived in that same annex, and back then, she hadn’t been spared from his torment. But now, things were different. Now, she lived in the main estate.
So why was she voluntarily going to meet the very man who had once made her life miserable?
“Let him know I’m here.”
Susan, who had followed behind her, looked at her nervously. Though she had only been working at the mansion for about six months, she already knew all about Ditron’s reputation. Everyone warned newcomers to stay far away from him.
He lived with only one servant in the annex—and even that servant didn’t last long, constantly replaced because of Ditron’s terrible temper.
Hands trembling, Susan knocked on the door.
“Elder Anastas, Lady Calliope is here to see you.”
Instead of a reply, the door was suddenly flung open by a weary-looking manservant. Susan quickly stepped aside. Calliope entered the room with a gentle smile, locking eyes with the old man inside.
He had thick gray hair streaked with age and sharp brown eyes that looked nothing like hers. Deep wrinkles lined his face, and his expression reeked of bitterness.
“Good afternoon, Elder Ditron Anastas. I’m Calliope Anastas.”
Even though her greeting was flawless—graceful, polite, with not a single fault—he didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, then frowned deeply. Calliope had expected that reaction. His scowl didn’t faze her in the slightest, but the two attendants behind her stiffened, their backs straightening instinctively.
“So you’re that stupid woman’s daughter.”
To open with such venom—it was no wonder no one liked him.
Feigning surprise, Calliope widened her eyes and blinked rapidly, even fluttering her lashes just a little. He smiled unpleasantly at what he assumed was a flustered girl.
“To think you’d have the nerve to come here.”
His face was twisted in mockery, but Calliope noticed the faint pallor in his skin—the signs of illness—and the gleam of malice in his eyes.
She had always wondered why this man had hated her so much as a child. Back then, he’d already passed away by the time she was old enough to fight back, so she never got her answer. But now? Now she thought she might be starting to understand.
“I only came to greet a senior member of the family, since I’ve joined the household.”
Her voice trembled ever so slightly, and her shoulders slumped. Susan, watching from behind, shot a wary glance at Ditron. What is she doing? If he catches on, we’re doomed.
Calliope casually used the wide folds of her dress to hide her hand as she reached out and lightly poked her maid in the side. Susan flinched, biting her tongue to hold back a sound, and stared at her in disbelief—but Calliope pretended not to notice and continued her act.
What a bother.
“Didn’t that proud father of yours ever tell you about me?”
“I-I’ve heard a little… But, well, you’re technically my granduncle, aren’t you?”
Not that Illan had ever said a word about him, truth be told. If you’re going to keep someone like Ditron locked away in the annex, you’d think you’d at least warn your daughter. Even as the thought passed through her mind, Calliope fidgeted awkwardly, hands clenching the fabric of her skirt as she met his gaze.
He looked at her like she was pathetic. She suppressed the sigh threatening to rise.
Just looking at that face is exhausting.
“There’s not a single drop of our blood in your veins.”
He was about to spit out another insult, thinking she was just like her mother—pretty face, empty head—when he abruptly closed his mouth.
The news that the former Marchioness’s daughter was entering the household had only reached Ditron Anastas through whispers in the halls. Despite holding stakes in several family-related businesses, he had long been excluded from internal affairs. So, he had no idea why the family had suddenly brought in the daughter of Illan’s former wife.
“Still, to think she came to greet the family elder. I suppose she’s not completely lacking in manners.”
But even if she wasn’t a direct bloodline, she was still technically part of the family. If they’d shoved her off to the annex right away, it would’ve meant she was useless. The fact that she had been brought back into the main house meant only one thing—she must be of use.
It made no sense that he was stuck here in the annex. Staring at the seemingly clueless girl, Ditron began calculating. Could he use this girl to find his way back into the main house?
“I apologize if I was out of line,” Calliope said softly. “I suppose I was a bit too excited by the idea of having a new family.”
She lowered her gaze and wore a sorrowful look, carefully masking her true thoughts. She could already see it in his eyes—the scheming. That fox of an old man. His intentions were transparent.
“Well, you’re still better than that proud father of yours. He’s never even bothered to visit. If there’s ever trouble in the household, come to me.”
“Would… that really be alright?”
Calliope bit her lip—not out of nervousness, but to stop herself from laughing. She was fairly certain his sudden kindness had everything to do with the fact that she was now staying in the main residence. Had she been assigned to the annex like in the past, there would have been no such warm offer. That man had always coveted the main house and everything in it.
“Thank you for your kindness. I’ll be sure to come visit again.”
She bowed politely. He didn’t respond. He’d made an effort to seem kind, but his attitude clearly said he didn’t care whether she left or stayed. Not that Calliope had expected warmth—without a word, she turned and left with Susan at her side.
As the door clicked shut, Ditron, lost in thought, turned to his servant.
“Keep an eye on that girl. Report back to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
The servant gave a dutiful reply, even as he sighed deeply inside. If he took more than a second to respond, something might get thrown at him. So what if he was paid more than the other staff? Half of it was going toward medicine anyway. Still, if “watching the young lady” gave him a reason to stay away from Ditron for a while, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing.
On the way back to Calliope’s room, Susan glanced sideways and asked in a whisper:
“Miss… are you planning to keep visiting him? I’m new, so I don’t know much, but even I’ve heard it’s best to stay away from him.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
Calliope gave her a warm smile. Susan tilted her head slightly. Her young mistress was only fourteen—but sometimes, she smiled like someone much, much older.
Early the next morning, Calliope sent Susan on her first errand: to buy Carolie’s beloved cookie cake.
Before leaving, Susan fussed like a mother leaving her child behind—reminding Calliope to ring the bell if she needed anything and to absolutely avoid speaking with the elder if she was alone. Calliope waved her off with a vague smile, glancing at Jack, who was standing beside her, stifling a massive yawn.
“You like sweets?”
“Didn’t use to, but I eat them now out of necessity.”
“So, you’re saying your blood sugar’s crashing.”
“Yes, I’m not even old, but somehow this is my life.”
She hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was clear: Illan had a habit of pushing his subordinates to their limits. Not that anyone could complain—he worked twice as hard himself. Still, ever since Jack started staying under her care, his complexion had noticeably improved.
Not long after, Susan returned, arms full of cakes and treats. She handed the overly sugary ones to Jack and told him to stay in the room and “play” while she got ready. Calliope left him blinking in confusion, holding a box of prettily wrapped cookies, and turned to Susan with a request.
“Can you set tea on the first-floor terrace? The one with a view of the back garden.”
“Do you think Lady Carolie will come?”
“If she doesn’t, I’ll just eat with you.”
Susan clearly hoped Carolie wouldn’t show. The temptation of those expensive, sweet cakes was just too strong.
Unfortunately for her, as soon as the white tablecloth was laid on the terrace table and the tea and cake set down, a flash of curly red hair peeked from around the corner.
Susan sighed, disappointed—but quickly cheered up. At least the youngest lady of the house had decided not to ignore Calliope’s invitation. She hurried to set everything in place.
Calliope pretended not to notice the peek of red curls and smiled quietly. The weather was still cool, but the terrace was pleasantly warm.
“Magic really is amazing.”
She reached a hand out past the terrace railing. The back of her hand hit cold air—just beyond a transparent magical barrier. She wiggled her fingers against the sensation, amused.
Then she heard small, hurried footsteps. Tap, tap-tap. In a rush, as always.
