Chapter 276
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
My mother must have already known that the reason I suddenly began mingling with the guests was because of you. And she must have known about my feelings as well.
“We should send Miss Loveridge home.”
I was stunned. She had invited you herself, yet now she spoke as if she meant to drive you out like an unwanted intruder.
“So you intend to discard the bait that’s performing its role perfectly, simply because things didn’t go as planned.”
I called out my mother’s pettiness. How she was willing to use you, then cast you aside the moment you stopped being convenient.
“You falling for her was never part of my plan. Fancy being swayed by nothing more than a pretty face, you really are a man after all.”
I wanted to protest that it wasn’t just your face. But I couldn’t. At the time, I hadn’t even managed to exchange a single proper word with you.
“In any case, that girl won’t do. Still, it’s a relief that you’ve finally taken an interest in women. But of all people, why someone like her? What about the others? Isn’t there a single young lady you like? If there is, I can arrange opportunities for you to grow closer.”
“You don’t need to make excuses so desperately.”
“What?”
“You’re just trying to get ahead of things because you’re afraid I might propose to Miss Loveridge. But how would I even propose? I can’t speak. Would I carve it into the dirt with a stick?”
…You probably didn’t know this, but I’m not actually someone who speaks gently. My words only sound gentle when they’re about you.
In any case, my self-mockery seemed to reassure my mother. She didn’t send you away after all.
She did send the boy away. His medical expenses were covered, but no apology was offered. If anything, we were the ones who received apologies. Our family’s bloodline, wealth, and the power that came with them were simply too overwhelming.
I’ve always despised a world where what one is allowed to do depends entirely on the power one holds.
As a child, I looked down on those who clawed their way up the ladder of power, mistaking survival for ambition. I thought them vulgar and ignorant. It was no different from my mother, who fretted endlessly at the idea of slipping even one step down that ladder.
Only later, when I myself slipped and fell to the bottom, did I realize how ignorant I had been.
When Felkner began harboring filthy intentions toward you, I felt utterly contemptible for being unable to stop him outright, for having to stand by and watch. At the time, I lacked the power to beat down the man tormenting you and drive him away without consequence.
Once I became powerless, I could no longer despise those who desperately sought power. It wasn’t blind admiration, it was survival. The strength to protect one’s right to live with dignity. The strength to defend what is yours from those strong enough to steal it.
Because in a world without power, what is precious is taken by those who have more.
And to me, that precious thing was you.
Only then did I begin to understand my parents’ fears. I understood their anxiety. But not the methods they chose, nor the paths they forced, nor the outcomes they accepted.
I still hate a world that excuses any cruelty so long as the powerful commit it. Back then, at fifteen, I thought I would at least be reprimanded or punished for striking someone.
“So the boy’s finally acting like a man.”
What I received instead of rebuke was praise.
My father was delighted. Rupert began to look at me differently.
“Is it true you knocked that bastard clear off the green and into the bunker with one punch?”
“Do I look like a bear to you?”
“Right, of course not. What a shame. I missed such a good show. How about you and I have a go sometime?”
“Get your Mother’s permission first, little boy.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll knock you out in front of the girl you like?”
…The girl I liked?
He meant you, of course. In that instant, alarms blared in my head. Instinctively I knew that I had to hide it. Not just from my mother, but from Rupert as well.
“Who says I like anyone?”
I feigned confusion, throwing the question back at him.
“Dana Loveridge. You beat that guy because he insulted her, didn’t you?”
“What are you talking about? I was the one insulted. Watching someone who doesn’t even know the basics of golf act superior is laughable enough. But then he lumps me in with himself, saying ‘we’ like we’re the same kind of clown. Who does he think he is?”
“Hmm… Well, she’s the daughter of a woman who isn’t even a lady. No need for us to step in and protect her honor. Not that she has any worth protecting.”
The alarm in my head went silent.
I hadn’t imagined Rupert would speak of you so cruelly. Certainly not if he harbored even the slightest interest.
…Did he really say that?
In truth, he spoke of your mother in even harsher terms. But I won’t stain my mouth or your ears with those words.
You asked me to write them down… I don’t want to soil my hands, nor your eyes.
Still… fine.
It’s a word that appears in Revelations, chapter 17, verse 2.
Dana, look it up later. For now, please just listen to me.
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