"Father," I addressed him. He was surrounded by aristocrats, nobles, and several court officials from the castle—people with a lot of influence and power. "I need to talk to you for a bit. Is that okay?"
"And what does the ungrateful woman want now?" he shot back, bitterness lacing his voice. It was because of our earlier argunt—I'd told them all they were scum. And now, here I was, approaching him again like none of that had happened.
I was honestly pissed that Leon had even suggested I do this, especially after he'd witnessed up close the ss that went down between and my family earlier.
"I just want to discuss sothing," I continued. "Figured you should hear it, since, you know, you're still my father."
He let out a harsh snort, turning his back to again. "I don't rember my wife giving birth to you, and I definitely don't recall ever creating you." He dismissed like I was nothing, his focus shifting back to the faces around him.
Acting like he didn't know who I was now. I'd really misjudged just how deep his stubbornness ran.
I let out a slow, frustrated sigh. "Well, whatever. I'm saying it anyway. I'm getting married," I said .
He spun around, finally paying attention, his gaze sharp. "Married, you say?"
"Yes," I said, eting his eyes head-on.
"Keh. I bet it's just so lowborn man," he spat, like he could taste the bitterness on his tongue. "If you hadn't strayed from the path I laid out for you, you could have had a good life—good family, good connections. If you'd just made yourself the woman of Lord Deckes, or Lord Singt, or Lord Mackal, or any of those I introduced to you, you might've had a chance to be my daughter again. But no, you threw it all away. Every single opportunity I handed to you, wasted. If you'd just married the ones I picked, you might still belong to this family. But you ruined it."
I sighed again, the sound heavier, filled with all the frustration boiling inside . He just kept going, like a broken record, hamring in how I'd supposedly destroyed my own future, when all I saw was a desperate man trying to control . He wanted as his pawn, a way to marry into power, to wrap his fingers tighter around the kingdom's influence. It made my skin crawl—knowing he'd use his own daughter like a bargaining chip. I never wanted any part of it. And the n he was talking about? They were the sa ones he was schmoozing with right now, all of them already in their sixties.
I knew exactly what he was aiming for. He wanted married to so old man on his last legs, counting on the mont he kicked the bucket. Once I beca a widow, the wealth, lands, and assets would technically be in my na. But we both knew the truth—it wouldn't be mine. It would be his. And then, he'd have marry another old fool, waiting again for the clock to run out, and claiming everything they had for himself. I was still young, after all, so by the ti my first husband kicked the bucket, I'd probably be in my mid-thirties, still pri for another marriage. Basically, I'd have no freedom at all.
But luckily, I wasn't about to fall for it. Thanks to my sister, Grace, I'd seen the truth for what it was. I'd rebelled, fought back until they finally severed from the family. And honestly? That was the best decision I'd ever made.
"My fiancé wants to introduce himself to you," I said, my voice firm but with an edge, making sure it carried over to where Sesillian lingered nearby. He didn't acknowledge directly, but I caught the subtle shift in his posture—he was definitely listening, even if he kept his gaze averted, pretending to be disinterested.
"I don't care. I don't need to know who your so-called fiancé is, considering you're no longer my daughter, you ungrateful woman," he spat, his tone sharp and cutting like a blade. His eyes narrowed, face twisted in disdain. "Now, get out of my sight. I have no intention of ever seeing you again, and I don't want you anywhere near , ever again."
His words hit like a slap, but honestly, I'd grown numb to them over the years. Kindness from him? That was a foreign concept. Even as a child, I never knew what it felt like. Did he ever cradle when I was born? Did he ever sit by my side when I cried out in the dark? I couldn't rember those early years—newborn mories are foggy at best—but the absence of warmth was a constant. It was almost like he wasn't my father at all, just a stranger with a familiar face.
"Rose," Leon's voice cut through the tension behind , smooth but deliberate. "Did you finish talking with your father already?"
The air shifted. Suddenly, all eyes were on us. My father's gaze locked onto Leon like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His eyes widened, looking as if they might burst from his skull.
"Ah, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier." Leon took a graceful bow, his movents fluid, yet there was an underlying sharpness. "I didn't realize you were Rose's father. Now that I think about it, it should have been obvious with your shared hair color. My mistake for not recognizing it sooner."
"M-Mr. Faust, what... what is the aning of this?" My father's voice stumbled, his usual haughty deanor montarily shaken. "You wanted to introduce yourself... to ?"
Leon's lips curled into a slight, calculated smile. "Well, yes. Rose ntioned there was a bit of... tension between her and the family. But still, you are her father, and as her future husband, it's only proper I introduce myself and formally ask for your blessing in taking her hand."
Leon was weaving his web expertly, each word a thread pulling tighter around my father. The air grew heavier, the room practically buzzing with anticipation. Sesillian, who had been pretending not to care, was now openly watching, his eyes glued to us.
Leon's smirk deepened, his expression unreadable, yet there was sothing devilish in his eyes. He had planned all of this perfectly, and the night was playing out exactly as he wanted. His control over the situation was absolute.
He looked every bit the devil he was.
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