Ashcal caught up to Raven just as she sat in the resting lounge near the banquet hall. Raven didn’t want to talk to him right now, so she positioned herself in a spot where the noise from the banquet hall and the blaring music made it nearly impossible to have a decent conversation. The banquet hall and the music made it difficult to have a conversation. She was angry and unsatisfied—her need for revenge had gone unmet.

  Everyone was curious about her, the lord’s daughter, who had been hidden away. Raven understood the curiosity. She would’ve been curious too. But what Raven truly hated was how someone had tried to target her and then act like the victim. Freya had tried to test her personality by putting her in an uncomfortable position. Raven hated the girl’s guts. She was vile and cheap. Perhaps they were fated to be enemies not because of her past life with Ashcal, but because Freya was simply a nasty person.

  Though no one dared say anything to her face, and Raven didn’t care. Still, they probably thought she’d made a poor girl cry. And Ashcal—he probably thought that she liked him. In fact, wouldn’t everyone think that now? That was something she didn’t want at all. Wasn’t that how things had gone in her past life? It was uncomfortably close.

  Raven gritted her teeth silently. She knew she couldn’t let this go. It would only make things worse in the future if she let Freya get away with it.

  Wait… Raven recalled something. This didn’t happen in her previous life. Everyone knew Ashcal was her fiancé, and Freya knew that too. Though she had said some provocative things, it wasn’t enough to cause a huge scene. So what had happened here to cause her reputation to suffer and Freya and Ashcal to grow closer? Raven thought for a while then realised.

  She might never know. After all, things were much different this time. In her previous life, after she’d used her wind powers to stop her fall, everyone in the shelter saw it. Her awakening wasn’t a secret, and people treated her differently because of it.

  If Raven guessed correctly, she doubted things would play out the same way. She had more control over herself, and even if someone tried to provoke her, she wouldn’t react like the emotional wreck she had been in her past life.

  While she was deep in thought, Ashcal finally mustered the courage to approach his fuming friend. “Raven, about earlier…”

  Raven sneered, thinking about that girl, and said darkly, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But… as a friend, it’s my responsibility to make sure you know when you’re wrong. Raven, you made someone cry. I know you were irritated by her behavior, but Freya is new to high society. She doesn’t know how to behave with people like us—people who’ve been trained since we could walk and talk.” Ashcal looked at her worriedly. “She must have been nervous. You could have been a little gentler and understanding.”

  “Ashcal, maybe you haven’t noticed, but ‘gentle’ is not my thing.” Raven glanced at him with a level gaze. “But for your information, we only talked about her once. And you were the one who mentioned her name. But I was the one… who got scolded. Why? Because I frowned in her direction? I didn’t even realize I was frowning. I just thought she looked familiar. But maybe she thought that because she’s very… discriminating?”

  “Raven…” Ashcal bit his lips, understanding where this was going. “That’s not—”

  “Because of my black hair and eyes, she decided I was a bully. But tell me, Ashcal, am I a bully?” Raven looked away and spoke calmly. “She’s the one who misunderstood, and even after I explained, she wouldn’t listen. Why? Because she already thought I was a bad person. Why else would she break down into tears? Am I such a monster that she can’t even talk to me without crying?”

  Ashcal fell silent for a moment before he spoke softly. “Raven… you’re not a mon—”

  Raven cut him off. “And no one would blame her for being weak and crying, but instead, imagine the terrible thing Raven Serth must have done for her to cry. Did I do anything terrible? I should’ve been gentle? Well, I don’t think so. I just feel that someone has wronged me. And they really deserve to suffer.”

  “Raven…” Ashcal looked guilty as he looked at her. Raven was the one who had suffered here. What right did he have to interpret things from his own perspective?

  “Actually, I don’t care about what others think. Or what you think, for that matter. I just wanted to make it clear that just because someone stands up straight like nothing happened after an argument, doesn’t mean they’re at fault. Like you said, as a friend, it’s your responsibility to make sure you know when you’re wrong.”

  “I’m really sorry.” Ashcal sighed deeply, guilt flashing across his face. If he had made a mistake, he needed to apologize properly. “I misunderstood and shouldn’t have said that. I should’ve supported you more instead of just trying to diffuse the situation. I didn’t think about how it might have affected you.”

  Raven smiled slightly, not wanting to be angry with him further. “See, that’s how you apologize—clearly stating what you did wrong. Unlike her, who apologized just to get out of the argument, even though it wasn’t really her fault.”

  “I think we’re trash-talking her now,” Ashcal said, though he didn’t mind. If it helped improve her mood, he was all for it.

  “Well, she totally deserves it. Anyway, how can someone from a tier-one family be such a…” Raven’s education stopped her from saying anything more.

  “I think she must have always felt inferior? I mean, she’s an illegitimate child, right? She probably faced a lot of bullying.” Ashcal said with some uncertainty.

  Raven looked at him with pity. He didn’t realize that Freya wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She was far too cunning. But Raven didn’t intend to correct his misunderstanding. After all, it wouldn’t be wise to make accusations without proof. He’d learn soon enough not to underestimate people.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Raven smiled sweetly and looked away. “Nothing. I just want one favor. If Freya ever asks you to help her apologize to me, tell her I’ll accept it only if she asks her family to apologize to me. Officially. I hope she understands what I mean, or else…”

  “I’ll make sure she gets the message,” Ashcal said with a slight pause, then added, “… You are really ruthless.”

  “Well, since she can’t apologize properly, I’ll let her family handle it.” Raven said. “They’ll figure out the compensation.”

  Raven had entrusted Ashcal with this job. She knew he would persuade Freya to apologize even if she didn’t want to. The Serths were not to be messed with, and the Urnal family would be forced to send a proper apology along with compensation, eventually hurting their pride. And when Freya told her family that she wanted them to apologize to the Serths, she would not come out unscathed. After this, Freya wouldn’t dare to mess with me again, Raven thought.

  As she was thinking, the noise from the banquet hall suddenly fell to a hush, and Raven had a bad premonition. She and Ashcal exchanged a look before rushing into the hall. There, they saw everyone looking toward the entrance. Raven stretched her neck, trying to see what had caught everyone’s attention.

  At the entrance of the banquet hall stood a mother and her young son, both commanding attention with their striking features. The woman had long silver hair that fell smoothly around her shoulders, shining in the light as she moved. Her purple eyes, bright and observant, gave her a calm but confident air. She wore a deep blue velvet gown—simple yet elegant—its delicate beadwork shimmering as she shifted. Her outfit was refined but not overdone, giving her a quiet sense of grace.

  Beside her, her son was the picture of youthful charm. His silver hair was a little messier than his mother’s, slightly tousled but still neat, and his violet eyes were calm and composed, almost indifferent. His suit was tailored to perfection, with sharp, crisp lines and silver accents that matched his mother's. The boy’s vest even bore a faint pattern of tiny, swirling designs. His posture was straight, his small hand resting lightly in his mother’s as he looked around the banquet hall with composure, as though this was another world he was born to observe.

  Raven only needed a moment to guess who they were. Only they would demand such attention. Raven closed her eyes briefly to calm herself, then made her way toward her father. Ashcal didn’t follow her, knowing it wasn’t his place to interfere.

  Her movement caught a few eyes, but Raven ignored them.

  Her father was sitting in a chair with a wine glass in his hand. He was expressionless, his eyes cold and detached, but Raven could feel the storm brewing in them, even if it wasn’t visible. She noticed his hand slightly clutching the wine glass tighter than usual—he would normally grip it carelessly. She stood behind him quietly, resting her hands on the back of his chair, trying to calm him down.

  The mother and son pair gracefully walked toward the head table, and the woman gave them a faint smile, her eyes cold. “Long time no see, Rayan. Happy birthday.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “Raven too.”

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  As the winds inside her stirred fiercely, Raven kept her face with a similar faint smile. She almost lost control of her powers and released her winds at her dismissive words, as if she meant nothing.

  No one—not even her father—had ever treated her like the lady in front of her had dared to treat her, ever since she was born. Her mother had cared about her even less than she cared about her furniture. At least her furniture, she had considered taking with her when she left her father. But her mother—she never even looked at her properly.

  But Raven still controlled herself, realizing her mother’s intentions were to unhinge her.

  “Yes.” Her father nodded perfunctorily, then focused on the wine glass in his hands. “It’s time for the food to be served. Everyone, please be seated.”

  The awkward and silent atmosphere lightened slightly, and everyone settled down.

  Raven pulled the chair beside her father but was stopped by a hand in front of her. The hand was pale and smooth like porcelain, the fingers long and beautiful. But Raven wanted to break them. “Excuse me?”

  “Raven,” her mother smiled sweetly, her voice commanding, “Let your brother sit beside your father. It’s been so long—”

  Raven cut her off dismissively. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Everyone at the long table fell silent at her remark. Not all guests had heard her, as she wasn’t loud, but those who did could almost smell the gunpowder in the air. They silently prepared themselves for drama.

  As her mother froze in place, Raven gracefully sat down on the right side of her father. Her twin brother looked coldly at her, and she stared right back, amusement in her eyes.

  After he became the heir, he made sure her mother’s family was supported by the Serths, prioritizing the Casels over the Serths. But that fact could remain hidden because Raven went ahead and disgraced herself, attracting all the attention. Her mother would say her father shouldn’t try to raise the son, or else he would be spoiled too whenever he tried to discipline him.

  After becoming the patriarch, no one could stop him, so Raven was kicked out of the family, and her brother quietly raised the Casels from a middle-tier—2 family to the highest, almost tier-1 family, even though this action caused the Serths to lose a lot of money and prestige. Obviously, no one was satisfied with him, but he was the strongest, so they had to put up with it.

  As she remembered the unclear past, her brother sat on the left side of her father, and her mother glared at her before deciding not to bother with her and sat down beside her son.

  Her mother then said sweetly, in a low voice, but it came out more sarcastically, “Rayan, why don’t you wish your son a happy birthday? Jareth, wish your father, too. You two share the same birthday. After all, you are a gift to each other.” Her voice sounded rather awkward, as if deciding whether she was sincere or perfunctory.

  Raven almost cringed at her words and looked at her father. Sure enough, he moved his jaw a bit, biting his tongue before he replied, “Happy birthday, Jareth. I hope you read good literature this year.”

  Raven almost laughed out loud at his response.

  The guests at the table: It’s good that we can listen to the drama, but it isn’t good that we can’t show our expressions.

  Everyone understood what he meant, so obviously, her mother did too. Her expression became stiff as she nudged her son.

  “Happy birthday to you too, dad.” Her brother said smoothly, then added, “Nice to see you, finally.”

  Rayan Serth glanced at his son, and the corners of his lips turned slightly, as if accepting a challenge. “Me too. I guess someone finally got around to letting you visit.”

  “It took some time, but she had to make sure I didn’t have anything important to do, after all, she knows how to look after her child.” Her brother shot her a glance.

  Raven’s eyebrow twitched. “May you come out of your delusions... eventually.”

  He looked at her coldly, then replied, “May you face people who are warm this year.”

  Raven waved her hand with a small smile. “Oh no, you have a twisted idea of warmth. Please don’t wish me bad luck.” She shot her mother a casual look.

  “I see that Rayan took good care of you while I was away.” Her mother said with a dark face.

  “I’m sorry. I think I missed it when you introduced yourself. I often miss people who are not important. Can you do it again? Actually, never mind. I would lose interest halfway.” Raven replied without missing a beat, before her father could say anything.

  Jareth sneered at her remark. “Sister sure thinks highly of herself. Not considering anyone important.”

  “Well, you can’t consider just about anyone important.” Her father added nonchalantly.

  “Perhaps if you were a bit more modest, your daughter would know what a warm person is.” Her mother said in a mocking tone.

  Raven smirked sarcastically, “But mother sure is very modest. Most of the time, it feels like you don’t exist.”

  “And maybe if you stepped off your high stone, your face would come out of paralysis.” Her brother looked at her with cold eyes.

  “I can’t stand on the ground before I crush some bugs.” She replied.

  Though none of the guests dared to speak up, there was an undeniable sense of amusement in the air. The whole family was really mean to each other—and that was putting it mildly.

  Everyone knew that their lord’s wife had left him with the son just a few months after the twins were born, leaving the daughter behind. Rumor had it that she left him and returned to her family so she could raise the son with their help, as their lord was busy most of the time. They knew their marriage had been loveless, more political than personal. When they parted, it was on bad terms, and they never contacted each other—or their other child—again. They had guessed she would return once the son grew up, after all, he had to try to become the heir.

  When Rayan Serth was selected, it was an obvious choice—he had no competition. But this time, there were competitors for the seat. After all, the daughter that had been left behind was also eligible to be the heir. They weren’t sure about her talent, but she had to have some. For now, while the children were young, things would remain calm, but once they grew up, it would be turbulent.

  Just then, the food arrived, and an elder quickly intervened, “Before we get too carried away, may I suggest we focus on the feast? It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

  Rayan, a bit disappointed that the bickering didn’t continue, quickly waved his hand, signaling for the servants to serve the food. The guests ate, each thinking that now was the time for things to become unsettling.

  Once the three-course meal ended, it was time for the entertainment. The performances started and ended to applause, but few people were focused on them. Her father left with some guests to speak privately. The rest of the guests were busy gossiping.

  Raven overheard a few ladies behind her discussing Person A’s husband cheating with Person B’s husband—talking about a sham marriage.

  She cleared her thoughts slowly. Would her brother and mother stay at the estate? If they did, it would be troublesome. But it was good she had prepared for this day.

  As Raven pondered, someone quietly approached and sat beside her. Looking up, she saw Shion, dressed in a suit, casually holding a cigarette.

  “If you want to smoke, there’s a designated room.” She said plainly.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then why are you holding a cigarette?”

  “I’m trying to figure out how to comfort you.”

  “You’re the second person today I’ve said this to, teacher. Thank you, but I don’t need comforting.”

  “You don’t? Then why are you so listless?”

  “...I was actually listening to the ladies behind me. But you interrupted them, and now they’re gone.”

  “I think you really do need some comforting. You just admitted you were invading their privacy.”

  “...No, not exactly their privacy. I think I was invading the privacy of the person they were talking about, with them.”

  “Invading privacy is still invading privacy.”

  “...Fine. Just say your comforting words, which I don’t really want to hear.”

  “Why are you so expressionless all the time? Even when you’re angry.”

  “...” Raven pursed her lips silently, trying not to curse.

  “Pfft—I just remembered your brother’s ‘facial paralysis’ remark. Ha ha. It really is true. People who know you well don’t notice it because they understand what you mean just by your silence. But now I really see it... ha ha.”

  “No... how did you hear...?”

  “Not just me, everyone did. Adult Specters can hear it easily, even in noisy banquets, if they want to.” Shion glanced at her face and laughed again.

  “...When my brother said, ‘Maybe if you stepped down from your high stone, your face would come out of paralysis,’ he meant that when I look at my mother and realize my father doesn’t love me, my facial expressions wouldn’t be the same as his anymore.” Raven said slowly. “You just insulted the lord of the city. In front of his daughter.”

  “That high level of insults?”

  “I think it just came out in the heat of the moment.”

  Shion clicked his tongue. “Just accept that he’s good.”

  “Is this supposed to comfort me, teacher?”

  “Well, I thought the ‘face paralysis’ comment would hurt you more, but you don’t look hurt.”

  “I have the mental resilience of a Shion’s student.” Raven rolled her eyes. “I won’t be offended just because a mama’s boy is jealous of my emotional maturity.”

  “Then are you hurt because of your mother?”

  “...I kind of feel sad. As if something that everyone else can easily get can’t be mine.” Her tone grew a bit emotional, but she quickly adjusted. “But it’s been eight years. I’m used to it.”

  “No matter how long it is, you can’t get used to it.”

  “I sometimes think it would have been better if she were dead. At least then I’d have a normal reason to not have a mother.” Raven said, almost viciously.

  “Do you hate your brother because of this?”

  “No.”

  “It’s good you don’t hate him.”

  “No, I hate him. But not because of my mother. I hate him because he insulted me; as if I’d just take that lying down.” She scoffed.

  “No way. I thought you started it first!”

  “...No! He first said that his mother knows how to look after a child. Which was a jab at my father, meaning he didn’t look after me. Sure, he didn’t. But the thing is, he dragged me into this. And what do you mean by ‘she knows how to look after a child’? Was I not her child? She never took care of me!”

  “Oh, I get it now.”

  “...”

  “...I’m not here to understand the insults your family threw at each other during the banquet, which is, by the way, the major gossip topic now. I’m here to comfort you. Really.”

  If she had doubted it before, now she was a hundred percent sure. Her teacher was heartless. Raven looked at him with dead eyes before quickly walking away to find her father. Otherwise, she was afraid she might die trying to fight him to the death.

  ***

  Thank you for reading, everyone!

  If you notice any mistakes, please feel free to mention them in the comments, and let me know if you liked the chapter.

  P.S. We’ll soon be starting the first main arc of the novel. Hang on!