By the ti we reached the estate, Johanne didn’t hesitate for even a second.
Her feet moved with fierce purpose, each step loud against the gravel as she stord toward the front gate like a bullet on a mission.
The guards stationed by the entrance tensed and imdiately moved to block her path—but she didn’t slow down.
Not even a glance.
She was burning with determination, her entire body radiating frustration and raw, anxious energy.
The only thing on her mind now... was Tris.
Just then, a voice barked from within the estate, sharp and commanding.
"What is going on here?"
The doors opened, and a man stepped out, his figure casting a long shadow on the ground.
He had a wide fra, the kind that ca with years of indulgence, and his stomach pushed against the hem of his ornate coat.
His mustache was thick and perfectly grood, sitting above lips twisted into a familiar, arrogant sneer.
Even without anyone telling you, you’d know at a glance—he was a noble.
"It’s you, huh?" he muttered, eyeing Johanne with imdiate disdain.
It was unmistakably Tris’s father.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded coldly.
"I ca here to ask sothing of Tris, my lord," Johanne replied, her voice calm but firm, like a blade kept sheathed.
Tris’s father narrowed his eyes, his entire face tightening as suspicion twisted across his features. "Oh? And what exactly would that be?"
"I want to confirm sothing for myself," Johanne said, standing tall. "I want to speak to her... and hear from her directly why she suddenly left the academy."
"There’s no reason other than failure, is there?" he responded dryly, brushing off her concern as if it were nothing more than dirt on his sleeve.
"Failure, you say?" Johanne’s voice dropped, the anger beginning to bleed through. "What kind of failure would require her to abandon her education altogether?"
You could feel the tension rising with every breath she took.
She was trying to stay composed—but it was obvious she was one word away from snapping.
Tris’s father sniffed disdainfully. "Failure to comply. Failure to et expectations. That’s all there is to it."
Johanne’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like her teeth might crack under the pressure.
Her eyes shimred, not with tears—but with sheer, simring fury.
"I’ll never understand it..." she murmured bitterly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do parents think they have the right to dictate the lives of their children? Why is it always them deciding how their children should live, instead of letting them choose for themselves?"
She exhaled hard, nostrils flaring. Her gaze sharpened into steel.
"My father forced into becoming a man. I had no idea. I had no mory of it. For years, I lived a lie... and only now do I see the truth. And you? You’re doing the sa damn thing to Tris, your daughter, and forcing her down a path she never wanted."
Tris’s father scowled, visibly agitated by Johanne’s defiance. "That’s the natural order of things. It’s the right of parents. We bring them into this world—so their lives belong to us. It’s only fair we use them as we see fit."
"So that’s all they are to you? Tools to be used? That’s pathetic." Johanne’s tone turned venomous. "I didn’t expect you to be this low, my lord. With all due respect, sure—you can try to steer your child’s future. You can push. You can command. But soday, that control will slip through your fingers. Mark my words."
Tris’s father stepped forward, his glare burning into her. "All of this could’ve been avoided if you had just stayed a man. Even knowing you were a woman—you should’ve kept it buried. Nothing would’ve changed. But instead, you let yourself be swayed. You gave in to your feelings. To that man."
He said it with such venom, it was almost like he was spitting the words.
"If you had stayed as a man, everything would have stayed normal. My daughter wouldn’t be shipped off to be married to Earl Prisk."
"Earl Prisk?" Johanne breathed, as if the na had struck her like a hamr to the chest. Her eyes went wide in disbelief. "Did you just say she’s being married off to Earl Prisk?!"
"She’s useless to us now. She’s already been married once. Whether it was consummated or not doesn’t matter. She’s tainted goods. A divorced woman. No man worth anything would marry her now."
Marriage customs in this world weren’t just outdated—they were suffocating.
And what he said? That cruel, callous truth?
It mirrored a society where won were seen as commodities.
Once used, they were discarded.
If they weren’t married off, they were pushed toward prostitution—or forced to live their lives alone.
Unwanted.
Most n here didn’t want "used" won.
They were disgustingly choosy, putting virginity on a pedestal.
And that... was why I hated so many of them.
"At least Earl Prisk is willing to take her. He doesn’t give a damn about purity, or marriage, or any of those things."
"You’re evil," Johanne muttered through clenched teeth.
"Evil?" Tris’s father scoffed. "No. I’m practical. Being good gets you nowhere. Now get the hell off my property—before I call the guards and have them toss you out."
There was no point staying any longer.
We turned and left the estate, the heavy iron gates slamming shut behind us.
Johanne walked ahead, fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.
Her shoulders were shaking—not with sadness—but with pure, unfiltered rage.
I understood completely.
I was furious too.
Hearing that Tris had been handed over to that sleazebag Earl Prisk... it made my stomach twist in disgust.
I knew that bastard all too well.
He was a perverted degenerate. Married won half his age, fathered dozens of children, and kept collecting more wives like trophies. He even groped and preyed on his maids.
Now Tris was trapped in that hellhole.
And we might never see her again.
If we did... it’d be a broken version of her. A ghost of the girl we knew. Gone would be the vibrant, cheerful fujoshi. What we’d see would be a lifeless puppet, robbed of her will.
"Damn it!!"
Johanne suddenly punched the stone wall beside her, and the sheer force of it sent deep cracks splintering through the masonry.
Even now, as a woman, her strength was terrifying.
Her knuckles bled, but she didn’t even flinch.
"What do we do, Leon?" she asked, voice shaking, eyes burning with fury and desperation.
I stared at her for a mont, then answered without hesitation.
"What else?" I said quietly, but firmly. "We’re going to bring her back."
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