TINOT 3

Chapter: 3

“Why—why do you think it doesn’t matter? Because you got fooled so stupidly, our family became a laughingstock!”

“…….”

“You’re always the problem. If it weren’t for you, our family would have no issues at all.”

“That’s right.”

Her half-sister usually spouted nothing but nonsense, but this time, Lisithea actually agreed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“That if I didn’t exist, there wouldn’t be any problems in this family.”

In this perfect household, the only flaw was Lisithea’s very existence.

She had never forgotten that fact—not once—since the day her twin siblings were born.

“I—I never said that!”

“I thought you were just short on decency, but it seems you also have a problem with language comprehension. How unfortunate. Even if I disappear, there’ll still be a problem left in this house.”

Lisithea lightly patted Celia’s shoulder and tilted her head.

Flushing red at the obvious mockery, Celia shrieked.

“Get rid of that. And don’t change the subject! What are you actually going to do?”

“Why should I tell you? This is my business.”

“How is your engagement only your business? As long as you carry the Aster name, your engagement concerns us too!”

“My engagement is my business alone. It always has been, and it always will be. There has never been space for your opinion in it, and there never will be. Want me to repeat that? You seem especially lacking in language comprehension today.”

No one in House Aster had ever shown any interest in Lisithea’s life.

Which meant they had no right to interfere in it now.

“So you’re really going to cling to Spencer and keep this engagement? Where did your lofty pride go? Why don’t you just run off to that precious maternal family of yours—”

“Celia Aster. This is as far as my patience goes. Say one more word about my affairs with that mouth of yours.”

Lisithea clamped a hand over Celia’s mouth and looked down at her coldly as she whispered.

Until the age of sixteen—before the fever that ruined her body—Lisithea had trained as a knight.

There was no way Celia, frail by nature, could withstand Lisithea’s presence.

Only when Celia began trembling violently, her face drained of color, did Lisithea finally remove her hand.

“…You’re crazy. You’re insane.”

Celia coughed harshly, gasping for air as she muttered under her breath.

“You should be happy, Celia.”

Lisithea wiped the tears pooled at the corners of Celia’s eyes, her voice softened into something almost gentle.

“I’m saying I’ll disappear forever from your perfect family. Isn’t that good?”

Tilting her head, Lisithea let out a low chuckle by Celia’s ear, then shoved aside the dazed girl.

Celia collapsed limply to the floor as Lisithea left the toilette room without another glance.

“Aaagh—aaagh! That crazy bitch again!”

Celia’s shrill screams echoed furiously behind her.

At least her lungs rival any knight’s.

No matter how many times she heard it, that fiery set of lungs was impressive.

It seemed all of that girl’s stamina had gone straight into her voice.

A carriage prepared by Marie waited at the entrance to the annex of the Marquis of Aster’s estate, where Lisithea lived.

“Miss, are you all right? Nothing happened, did it?”

Marie’s voice was thick with anxiety—she must have been worrying the entire time.

“There’s no reason I wouldn’t be. It’s not like Celia acting that way is anything new.”

On especially exhausting days like today, Lisithea sometimes snapped back, but she usually ignored Celia’s provocations.

You didn’t bark back every time a nasty little dog yapped out of fear.

“…I really, really hate the people in this house.”

Celia often picked fights with Marie, but the members of House Aster weren’t inherently cruel.

They treated even their servants properly—yet whenever it came to Lisithea, they acted like lunatics.

Perhaps Lisithea’s misery was necessary to complete their happiness.

Marie found herself imagining something so absurd it frightened her.

But why does my lady have to die? The ones who deserve it are—

Since yesterday, Marie felt like she might burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

Still, she couldn’t keep crying in front of her lady.

She roughly wiped her eyes and swallowed her sobs.

“Marie, I feel the same.”

“…Pardon?”

Lisithea’s long, smooth fingers gently untied the ribbon pinned to Marie’s chest.

Smiling, Lisithea retied it neatly, the loops perfectly symmetrical.

“I hate the people in this house too. There—done.”

Lisithea smiled in satisfaction at the neatly arranged ribbon.

People mistook her cool, aloof appearance for a cold personality—but Marie knew better.

Her lady was kind, thoughtful, and attentive to even the smallest details.

“I’ve tied ribbons hundreds of times more than you, miss. I don’t understand why I can’t do it like that.”

“That’s why I keep you by my side.”

Marie didn’t quite understand what she meant, but her lady’s smile was so lovely that she smiled back and opened the carriage door.

Just as Lisithea released Marie’s hand and stepped up—

“Elder Sister! Please speak with me for a moment.”

A man appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Lisithea’s shoulder and yanking her back roughly.

She lost her balance, stumbling as one of her shoes flew off and she was dragged onto the ground.

Ha… what is it with today?

Lisithea sighed as she looked at her disheveled hair and the shoe lying some distance away.

If she didn’t, she felt like she might start swearing.

“…Miss! Are you hurt anywhere?”

Startled out of her daze, Marie rushed to her side.

“I’m fine. Marie, my shoe.”

Heat surged behind Lisithea’s eyes as anger welled up.

She pressed her fingers hard against her temples, barely managing to suppress it.

Marie retrieved the shoe and slipped it back onto Lisithea’s foot with trembling hands.

The moment her foot touched the ground, a burning pain flared up her ankle.

She must have twisted it when she was dragged down from the carriage.

“What exactly did you say to Celia?!”

The man glared at her as if he wanted to devour her, shouting furiously.

“Edward Aster. You’ve got it backwards.”

“Is that really what matters right now?”

Edward scoffed in disbelief at her remark.

Edward Aster—Lisithea’s half-brother, and Celia’s twin.

A beautiful, powerful mage, his very existence was House Aster’s hope.

Once, she had envied his talent.

If she had possessed magic, would things have been different?

There were nights she lay awake, haunted by that thought.

If only she’d realized sooner that there was no place for her in that perfect picture, she wouldn’t have wasted nights clinging to false hope.

“It matters. If word gets out that the fair and rational Young Marquis of Aster charges at his half-sister like an enraged colt, how do you plan to handle that scandal?”

“…….”

“Even matters within a family never remain secrets forever. No matter how thorough you are, you can’t silence my mouth too, can you?”

That was how family matters worked.

Even if relationships were worse than strangers’, exposing them publicly only invited blame.

The abuser’s actions became ‘understandable circumstances,’ while the victim—after enduring everything—was condemned as reckless for revealing the discord.

But Lisithea was free from such concerns.

There was no reputation left for her to lose.

Edward, on the other hand—celebrated for his wisdom and composure—would find even the smallest scandal fatal.

Lisithea was more than willing to drag him down into the mud with her.

Edward let out a low sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

At this rate, a proper conversation was impossible.

“…There’s something I wish to ask you.”

He stepped back and waited for her answer.

“One more time. This is your last chance.”

Lisithea suddenly stared at her own hand, fingers spread wide, and spoke in a flat, unreadable tone.

“What exactly do you want—”

He had reached the limit of his patience.

Edward reached out to grab her shoulder.

Smack.

The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh rang out, and pain exploded across his cheek as if it were on fire.

The unexpected blow left his head ringing.

…She slapped me? She slapped my face?

He finally understood what it meant to be so stunned that words failed.

He had endured harsh punishments—grueling physical training, relentless magical discipline.

But never once had he been struck across the face.

From the moment of his birth, he had been designated the heir of House Aster.

This kind of humiliation was a first.

Heat surged violently to his head.

She didn’t raise her hand to Celia too, did she?
If she had, he could never forgive that.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing—”

“You should apologize first.”

Before his shout could even finish, Lisithea lifted her skirt, exposing her ankle.

Red and inflamed, it had already swollen grotesquely.

At a glance, it was far more severe than the scratch on his cheek from her ring.

Edward bit down hard on the inside of his mouth.

If she was hurt, she should have said so from the start—what was this, slapping him first and only then revealing her injury?

And while his action had been accidental, hers was unmistakably intentional.

It felt like he’d stepped straight into a trap.