Chapter 49
Witnessing her child’s gaunt frame was a heavy burden on Aubrey’s heart. However, her response was to smother Tedrick with the kind of coddling usually reserved for a toddler. Ever since his confinement had begun, she had abandoned all noble composure, spending her days dissolved in fits of weeping.
“My father will be arriving shortly.”
Viscount Lilius spoke with a sharp edge, his voice tight with apprehension. “You cannot behave this way in front of him, my lady. Do you understand? You must stop treating the boy like an infant.”
Aubrey’s eyes flashed with resentment. “Are you really scolding me? After everything our poor son has had to endure?”
“My lady, please,” the Viscount warned.
Tedrick, who had been aggressively stuffing meat into his mouth, suddenly paused to adopt a more dignified posture. “Mother, Father, stop arguing. I won’t let that wretched Tulia trick me ever again. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Viscount Lilius sighed, eventually reaching out to offer his son a supportive pat on the back.
Technically, Tedrick had been exiled to the Randel Warehouse as part of his punishment. His presence back in the main estate was a temporary reprieve granted by the rigid statutes of the family. The upcoming celebration for the Grand Duke’s birthday was the catalyst. House Frazier was governed by ancient, labyrinthine customs, including one specific decree:
Unless a direct descendant was rotting in the dungeon for a capital crime, they maintained the fundamental right to attend the family patriarch’s birth anniversary.
By the letter of the law, Tedrick was entitled only to the banquet itself. His early return to the castle was a different matter entirely.
“It was a stroke of genius to secure the loyalty of the retainers beforehand, darling,” Aubrey noted.
Viscount Lilius cleared his throat, a self-satisfied look crossing his face. “It’s simply good politics.”
Unlike his siblings, the Viscount was a man of calculated ambition, always focused on the long game. His brother Nigella had traded the family estate for the glitz of the Imperial Capital, and Aster was busy winning glory on the distant borders. Lilius, however, had remained at home. He claimed it was out of a sense of duty to his father, Assis Grand Duke Frazier, but his true motive was the quiet expansion of his own power base.
Years of careful networking were paying off. Many of the estate’s retainers were now firmly in his pocket. A few bottles of rare, expensive wine and a well-timed display of fatherly grief over Tedrick’s “suffering” had been enough to sway them.
They had echoed his sentiments readily. They argued that Tedrick was still a legitimate Frazier heir, and that with so many outsiders attending the gala, the boy needed to look healthy and respectable to protect the family’s image. None of them seemed to remember—or care—that Tulia had spent her childhood in that same warehouse, excluded from every celebration. She had simply lacked anyone powerful enough to advocate for her.
“That is the difference between our son and that little brat,” Aubrey muttered, her anger still simmering.
Tulia Frazier had transformed in a way that defied logic. The girl who once withered under a few harsh words had become sharp and dangerously perceptive. It was as if she had traded her soul for a new, cunning intellect. Aubrey hated to admit it, but since Tulia left the warehouse, she hadn’t managed to land a single blow against her, socially or otherwise.
Whenever Aubrey tried to provoke her in front of the twins to make her look foolish, Tulia would simply offer a robotic, humble apology. It was infuriating because any further aggression from Aubrey would only make Aubrey herself look like the villain.
“Tedrick, once you’ve eaten, we’re going to the city to get you a new wardrobe,” Aubrey said.
“Really? That’s great!” Tedrick’s eyes lit up. “Can I get new shoes and gloves too?”
“Anything you want, my dear boy. Just name it.”
As Aubrey made her promises, Lilius found himself mentally tallying the costs. It was a humiliating new habit. Normally, he wouldn’t give expenses a second thought, but the failure of the Statis Plain venture had left him drowning in high-interest debt. For the first time in his life, the son of a Grand Duke was forced to balance a budget.
He blamed the Marquis’s side of the family. Tulia was a thorn in his side, and he was certain Marquis Aster was pulling her strings from afar. That branch of the family brought nothing but trouble. Seeing his wife and son so gleefully oblivious to their financial strain only deepened his irritation.
“My lady,” he said, his voice turning cold. “I am warning you again. Do not show such blatant favoritism toward Tedrick when my father is watching.”
He rubbed his temples. “We have a daughter as well. You must appear more devoted to Sophia in his presence. You know how much Father dotes on the girls of the family.”
Aubrey gave a dismissive shrug. “I know, I know. I won’t ignore her.”
Lilius let out a weary breath and yanked the bell cord. When the butler appeared, the Viscount poured himself a whiskey, skipping the usual amount of ice.
“When is Sophia expected back from the Academy?” he asked.
I didn’t get a wink of sleep. The sudden appearance of that ridiculous Sub Quest had kept my mind racing all night. When I checked the mirror, the dark circles under my eyes were visible, yet I couldn’t help but notice how Tulia’s natural beauty seemed to shine through even the exhaustion. The power of high-tier beauty stats was truly something else.
I shook off the thought and stepped out into the hallway, pulling up the quest window one more time.
[Sub Quest: Sovereign of the Social Hall]
You are a pariah! You have no funds, no luck, and no friends!
(Well, maybe one.)
Objective: Secure a dance with both ‘Lisian Frazier’ and ‘Leon Frazier’ during the gala.
Reward: ???
Penalty: -10,000 Coins.
The lack of a reward description was annoying, but the massive penalty was terrifying. I had moved past anger into a state of grim acceptance. I had to succeed.
I spent hours analyzing Leon Frazier. In the original game, The Lady of the Silver Flower, he was initially freezing toward the protagonist, Coriko. But since he was a love interest, there was a specific path to winning him over. Leon valued blunt honesty and boldness. He had no patience for coy behavior or flattery. In fact, sometimes the “rude” dialogue options were the only ones that increased his affection.
Then there was the matter of “healing his wounds.” In the game, Coriko had to choose why Leon was hurting:
- His brother’s social isolation due to his stutter.
- His father’s perceived abandonment.
- The fact that Tulia’s very existence was a stain on his mother’s memory.
Back when I was just a player, choosing option three was the easiest way to max out his points. But now that I was Tulia, that was a problem. How am I supposed to “comfort” someone whose primary trauma is the fact that I was born? If I tried to apologize for existing, he’d probably just accuse me of being manipulative again.
I finally decided on a strategy. I walked to his door and knocked.
“Oh! Lady… Tulia?” The servant who answered looked stunned to see me.
I gave them my most innocent, harmless smile. “Is my brother Leon available? I have something I need to discuss with him.”
“He is! Please, wait just a moment while I inform him!”
“No rush,” I replied.
This wasn’t about family. This was a business transaction.
