Tilia lay on the floor like a worm, silently looking at the wooden floorboards.
Soon her stomach will be kicked. Her body is trampled. It would hurt, but by the time she returned to the academy, she would be healed.
Even if she wasn't completely healed, it didn't matter. As long as her bones weren't broken and her internal organs weren't ruptured, she could still attend classes.
- Useless girl. Harlot. The daughter of that useless Evelyn who died without bringing any benefit...
The stream of verbal abuse had no effect on Tilia.
She never let those words hurt her.
If she refused to acknowledge them, they could not penetrate her heart. If they couldn't penetrate her heart, they couldn't hurt. In this sense, Baron Ambrose's words were completely meaningless.
After her mother's death, Tilia called everything in the world, including her family, part of her "fake life."
It wasn't real and therefore had no power over her.
In truth, this was not so far from reality. They have never and will never reach any part of her heart.
That's when Bradley Ambrose raised his boot, cursing, as if he was going to kick her in the stomach. Without thinking, Tilia shuddered and curled up like an insect, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
Realizing that her reflex action had been revealed, tears welled up in her eyes.
Not because she was afraid. Not because she felt offended. But because even in such a situation, the instinctive desire of the body to avoid the blow made her feel humiliated.
However, as soon as she felt this humiliation, Tilia regained her courage.
This is fake. Therefore, this shame and humiliation is also not real.
Tilia kept her eyes wide open, trying to remember her real life - the only shield that could protect her from everything bad.
- I will knock some sense into you, even if you die today...!
- Baron!
The moment Tilia pursed her lips, trembling but refusing to beg, a servant - one of the few remaining in the Ambrose mansion - knocked insistently on the door and shouted.
- You need to come urgently.
- What now?! If it's Earl Dawson who's demanding repayment, tell him I'll pay him back next month...
- No, sir. This is not Earl Dawson. You should come and see this immediately, and so should Miss Tilia.
- …What?
Bradley, who was seething with rage, frowned even more when he heard the servant's words.
Soon he looked at his daughter who was lying on the floor and roughly pulled her hair.
- What’s all...
Bradley's face twisted at the sight before him as he dragged Tilia into the living room.
- What does all this mean?
- These are gifts from the Davenport family.
- Why is the Davenport family sending us something?
- Well... these gifts are for Miss Tilia from Lord Ilex Davenport, the second son of the family.
Hearing this, Bradley quickly turned and looked at his daughter, who stood there with her hair still clutched tightly in his hand.
Tilia, who had until now stood without any expression on her face, despite the fact that her father was holding her by the hair, suddenly changed her face upon hearing the servant’s words.
- Why would the Davenports’ second son give her gifts...
Seeing the confusion in his daughter's wide eyes, Bradley suddenly stopped frowning.
Can't be.
His mind worked quickly.
His daughter didn't return last night. The luxurious carriage in which she arrived. Beautiful flowers filling the living room, sent by Ilex Davenport, second son of the Davenport family...
The pieces of the puzzle came together in an instant.
Bradley looked carefully at his daughter, who had traces of embarrassment on her face. He then turned to look around the room filled with lavish gifts.
- Ha.
After a moment, Bradley laughed mockingly and walked toward the flowers that filled the living room.
He let Tilia's hair grow long ago.
Looking at the bright flowers, Bradley smiled widely, as if they were gifts sent for him, and leaned down to inhale their scent.
The flowers were of the highest quality, impeccable in color, aroma and appearance.
Shipping such luxurious items in such large quantities must have cost a fortune.
- From the Davenport family?
- Yes, sir.
Convinced of this once again, Bradley took the bouquet of freesias in front of him and looked around the living room, which had now turned into a flower garden.
His face brightened even more when his gaze fell on his daughter standing at the door with a pitiful look.
- My dear daughter.
He spoke in a gentle voice to his daughter, whose face was broken like cracked porcelain.
- The one who spent the night with you was Lord Davenport? Silly child, why didn't you tell me sooner?
With a gentle voice and a satisfied look, the Baron continued:
- Go and take a bath, then rest. You must be tired after last night. I'll call a priest for you, maybe tomorrow.
***
- Hey, hey!
A voice called out to a pale Tilia as she walked up the stairs to her room, trying to ignore the blood pooling in her mouth.
The other Ambrose, George, followed her pestering her.
- What's with all these gifts downstairs? Did you really sleep with Lord Davenport last night?
Tilia ignored George as she walked up the stairs to her room.
She was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to sleep. She didn't have the strength to deal with another fool.
- What about Brad? Haven't you met him? He says he couldn't get you!
But as always, George Ambrose wouldn't leave her alone. He followed her up the stairs, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
-Have you slept with both Brad and Ilex Davenport?
At these words, something inside Tilia broke.
The day was unbearably long. From interacting with the Davenport maids in the morning, to interacting with Ilex, and then meeting her father.
And now George Ambrose. Finally reaching the limit of her patience, Tilia turned to him, her face cold.
-You're in good shape...
“You... you knew Brad Reynolds was going to use holy water on me, didn't you?”
- Holy water? What are you talking about?
George's panicked voice gave him away as he tried to take a step back.
Tilia's eyes became even colder. She wasn't entirely sure, wanting to believe that her brother wasn't the type to destroy his sister for a worthless opportunity.
- But... did he use holy water? You know how dangerous the side effects are, right? And did you actually drink it?
When she thought there was nowhere she could go any lower, there was always a basement.
The men of House Ambrose always managed to find him.
Tilia saw George's eyes sparkle with vulgar curiosity and laughed bitterly.
There was no need to even be disappointed. After all, it was just another lie that she would soon get rid of.
Fake.
Having confirmed this in her mind, Tilia opened her mouth.
- What do you think father will do when he finds out that I went to a club in the old city to meet Brad Reynolds at your request?
Of course, Father would not scold George. Instead, he would blame her for not being good enough, giving in to her brother's tricks. And he would have beaten him even harder.
- Uh... well...
But George Ambrose didn't think that far ahead.
It was clear to her from the very beginning that he was afraid that she would reveal everything. Not since he showed up in the office and watched her suffer as he usually did.
He did not join his father, who scolded her and demanded to know where she was - he sat quietly in his room.
George tried to protect himself from possible consequences, and Tilia, knowing this for sure, shot him again.
- You know that my father wants to sell me for a tidy sum, right? What do you think will happen if I tell him why I had to go there?
George was silent, fear showing on his face.
Tilia gave him a look full of contempt and added finally:
- Watch your language. Unless you want to lose all your money on booze.
With these words, Tilia turned away, deciding that it was not worth wasting any more time on him, and continued to climb the stairs.
But before she could reach the top step, George called out to her.
“Hey, even so, if you’re related to Davenport’s second son, isn’t that good?” Do you know what a big business the Davenports run? They even recently started a steel company!
George hurried up the stairs after her, the worry on his face giving way to impatience.
- Considering how many flowers he sent you, he seems to like you. Maybe you'll become Ilex Davenport's mistress.
Mistress.
At these words, Tilia's steps suddenly stopped.