Thiel was a hybrid—the crossbreed of the noblest Snow Leopard and Black Panther clans.
Unlike Rowen, Thiel's cousin, who was born with the silver hair that was the hallmark of nobility, Thiel's hair was a dull, faded white.
That was the word Thiel had heard most since the day she was born, for she was a “hybrid” incapable of wielding her clan's power.
The Snow Leopard family, the Nestians.
Every member of the Nestian family was born with the ability to freeze anything.
Thiel's mother, Lena Nestian, had possessed an extraordinarily powerful freezing ability.
She had been slated to become the next head of the Nestian family, succeeding Thiel's maternal grandfather and the current family head, Sinder Nestian.
…If only Thiel had never been born.
Lena Nestian had fallen in love with Cassius Astrian, the head of an enemy clan.
Defying her family's fierce opposition, she bore Cassius a child and lost her life in the process. And thus, Thiel was born.
In an instant, Sinder Nestian lost both his strongest heir and his beloved daughter.
How wonderful it would have been if the child had inherited powers as strong as her mother's.
Yet contrary to Sinder's hopes that her abilities would manifest later on, Thiel showed no signs of power even by the age of seven.
Considering that ordinary children awakened their abilities within a year of birth, it was safe to assume she would never manifest them at all.
So Sinder abandoned Thiel and cast her into the attic.
If not for the maids who checked in on her from time to time, Thiel would have perished long ago.
Sinder abused the child mercilessly, and everyone in the Nestian estate merely stood by and watched. Thiel barely clung to life.
Still, Sinder continued to mistreat her relentlessly. The fact that Thiel was born with golden eyes—the hallmark of the Leopard clan—was just another reason for his cruelty.
That day was no different.
Sinder roared. Thiel trembled, shrinking back a step as she sat on the floor.
Frozen in sheer terror, the little child could only nod.
Thiel had been so ravenous that all she had done was steal a piece of stale bread and eat it.
What she had stolen was a rock-hard black loaf, so tough that no one could chew it unless it was soaked in soup.
Thiel had found it and eaten it only after someone tossed it away.
Just to survive.
Yet even that was forbidden to Thiel, and knowing full well what she had done, Sinder cornered her.
Her clothes were torn in places, exposing old scars wherever her skin showed.
Those were marks left from when ice shards had pierced her body in the past. Even so, the child kept her lips tightly sealed, as though she felt no pain at all.
The black bread Thiel had been chewing dropped right before Sinder's feet.
Gulp.
Thiel stared at the bread and swallowed dryly, her mouth quivering with fright.
Her stomach growled incessantly, churning with nausea born of sheer hunger. She could not even remember the last time she had eaten a proper meal.
Seeing Thiel gaze at the bread, Sinder raised his voice in a fury.
At Sinder's furious shout, Thiel reflexively bowed her head. The trembling child crawled back toward the corner.
To Sinder, Thiel was nothing more than an eyesore of a hybrid he couldn't easily discard.
Looking down at his granddaughter with a frigid stare, he seized her and dragged her out to the office balcony.
A blizzard was raging outside, yet Thiel was thrust onto the terrace barefoot, clad in nothing but threadbare old pajamas.
Sinder's cold gaze made Thiel feel as if she were suffocating.
The little child scrambled to her knees to beg for mercy.
The words she could never speak scattered faintly across her parched lips.
Thiel pounded desperately on the locked door. Yet the firmly shut barrier did not budge.
Her hands turned red and swollen from the bitter frost, and snow piled steadily onto her frail body. Even so, Sinder turned his back on his granddaughter entirely.
Left all alone in the freezing cold, Thiel could do nothing but shudder.
Sinder's harsh glare stung her far more than her swollen, frostbitten feet.
Yet what broke her heart even more was…
The balcony door swung open, and Cornelia Nestian—Thiel's aunt and the current heir to the family—walked in.
She was a stunning woman with glistening silver hair, and unlike Thiel, her eyes were an icy blue.
Thiel called out to her with a trembling voice. But instead of stopping Sinder, Cornelia snapped at her.
Thiel flinched, her small shoulders hitching with a start.
Cornelia might not have hated her as openly as Sinder did, but she had never felt an ounce of fondness for her. Thiel knew that all too well.
Even so, the only reason she had called out to Cornelia was the desperate sliver of hope that she might pull her back inside.
Cornelia merely clicked her tongue at the sight of Thiel, looking as pathetic as a kicked stray.
Rowen was Cornelia's daughter and Sinder's granddaughter. In this mansion, she was treated entirely differently from Thiel.
Sinder glared at Thiel once more with furious eyes. Unable to say a word, Thiel offered only a timid, helpless smile.
Just then, through the cracked door, in bounced a little girl bearing a striking resemblance to both Sinder and Cornelia. She was a child with gleaming silver hair and striking blue eyes, nothing like Thiel.
Blue eyes—the symbol of the noble Snow Leopard clan.
The child scurried eagerly toward Cornelia and Sinder. Sinder swept his granddaughter into his arms, paying Thiel no mind whatsoever.
Rowen giggled, clutching Sinder's hand tightly. Cornelia watched Rowen with doting, affectionate eyes.
Thiel watched them in silence. She was a complete outsider here.
An invisible wall stood between Sinder, Cornelia, Rowen, and Thiel.
A solid wall that could neither be cracked nor bridged by any means.
With Rowen cradled in his embrace, Sinder looked as happy and tender as any grandfather could be.
Not once since her birth had anyone looked at Thiel like that; everyone looked upon her with contempt.
‘If only Mother were still alive…’
‘Would things have been different?’
Tears tracked down her icy cheeks. Once they began to fall, they would not stop.
Thiel pressed her small palms against the cold glass, weeping endlessly.
The two left the study together just like that. Not a single person paid Thiel any mind.
Now, only Cornelia remained in Sinder's study. She stepped lightly toward the window and peered out at the balcony.
Thiel called to Cornelia in a quivering voice, clinging to the faint hope that she might let her back inside.
Cornelia spared Thiel a look of utter disgust, then turned and strode out of the office.
And so the child was abandoned alone on the terrace.
Thiel shivered violently, curling her spindly arms around her body.
Carrying the mixed blood of both a Snow Leopard and a Black Panther, Thiel did not have the thick, insulating fur of a pure Snow Leopard.
The biting gale gripped her small frame as though it would swallow her whole at any moment.
She pounded frantically against the balcony glass, but no one returned.
To make matters worse, the balcony where she was trapped was on the third floor, making it impossible to leap down.
The child stared quietly into the study.
The candlelight flickered weakly inside, threatening to gutter out at any second.
‘How long has it been like this…?’
Snow gathered thickly on Thiel's head. Sensation had long since faded from her frozen hands.
‘A thing like you could never be loved anywhere.’
‘Useless.’
‘Your mother died because of your birth!’
‘Why was a thing like this ever born… Tsk.’
Sinder's harsh words rang relentlessly in her ears like tinnitus. The child blinked slowly, her consciousness drifting, her vision blurring into nothingness.
‘I wanted to be loved, too.’
She had always told herself that one day, Sinder would treat her like Rowen and all the other children. That one day, Cornelia would acknowledge her as her niece.
No matter what anyone said, Thiel carried the blood of the Nestians. She might be a hybrid, but half of her was undeniably a Snow Leopard.
Yet what a foolish, empty dream it had been.
Thiel finally realized the truth. A grandfather's warm embrace and a family's love were never meant for her.
“I wanted to be loved.”
Thiel whispered with earnest longing. A faint, wispy breath drifted from the child's parted lips.
The sound of Sinder and Rowen's laughter seemed to echo in her ears. Was it an auditory hallucination? What was certain, however, was that the laughter spelled out the truth to Thiel.
There is no place for you here.
There never was a place for you to begin with.
And with that, Thiel slowly closed her eyes.
Before long, her trembling frame fell entirely still, and her shallow breath slipped away.
The candles in the study guttered out.
And just like that, Thiel died.
Or at least, that was how it should have been.
Thiel cupped her cheeks with trembling fingers.
Then, she felt a gentle warmth at the tips of her fingers.