She clenched her teeth, her bloodshot eyes turning to George, who stood nearby.
-What are you staring at? For what?!
George, clearly surprised by her look, raised his voice in defiance.
- Hey, you don't dream of becoming Davenport's wife, do you? Wake up. I say this to you kindly, with care - he will never consider you as a lover or a bride. No way. Someone like you? Davenport wouldn't even consider that option.
He chuckled sarcastically, as if the very thought was laughable, and then continued in a patronizing tone, looking down at Tilia.
“Still, being Davenport's mistress would be huge.” I mean, look at how he sends you all these flowers after just one night. Imagine how well he will treat you if you actually become his mistress. Damn it, women just need to spread their legs and get all that money. Eh, I should have been born a woman. Everything would be easy for me.
Muttering curses under his breath, George looked at Tilia with envy, then suddenly grinned and lightly hit her on the shoulder.
- If you become Davenport's mistress, don't forget about your brother, okay? After all, I was the one who helped you get this far. Do you think you got there yourself?
The force of his blows as he pushed her shoulder pushed back Tilia's exhausted body. Looking down with her head bowed, Tilia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling nauseous.
When she opened them again, her green eyes were filled with a different kind of anger - a much deeper one.
“...Maybe I should ask him to kill you?”
- What?
“If I become his mistress, perhaps I will ask him to kill you first.”
George, who was pushing her hard on the shoulder, froze at her words, which did not look like a joke.
His eyes, which looked increasingly wary, like his father's, disgusted her. Tilia carefully enunciated each word, as if she was spitting them out, her bloodshot eyes boring into George.
- George Ambrose. Do you want to reap the benefits of me becoming Lord Davenport's mistress?
- Well, we're family, so of course...
“Then stop treating me like that and start trying to win me over.” Understood?
- What? You...
George's expression twisted with rage, his eyes staring at her menacingly. But he couldn't bring himself to strike, he just made an angry sound and stomped his foot.
Tilia chuckled. This was the true nature of George Ambrose.
He was endlessly cruel to those weaker than him, but would tuck his tail between his legs when faced with someone stronger, just like his father.
George had always acted like a predator, but now, after hearing that his sister might become the mistress of someone powerful, he stamped his feet angrily, but still treated her with caution.
- So what? What do you want? Should I disappear for you?
Mistress. How convenient this title was. Even the mistress seemed to have an easier life than she. How much easier should life be for Ilex Davenport?
Feeling her emotions wash over her, Tilia responded mockingly:
- No, that's not enough.
- Then what?!
- Kill yourself. Throw yourself down the stairs and break your neck.
- What...? You're small...!
George seemed like he couldn't take it anymore and raised his hand, but Tilia just laughed at him and turned away.
- Damn it, you...! Hey, if you don't become his mistress, you'll die by my hand, got it?!
But even when he shouted, George only talked about a hypothetical future and did not pursue her.
Ignoring his stream of curses, Tilia headed to her room.
Click. It was only after she had locked the door behind her that her body swayed as if it was collapsing.
Tilia knelt on the cold floor, unable to even walk to the bed and suppressing the urge to vomit.
The contraceptive may not have been completely digested yet. She couldn't vomit. Not now, not yet.
Breathing heavily, Tilia bent over and closed her eyes.
Why did Ilex Davenport send these flowers? Was he really going to make her his mistress? She didn't care.
All she wanted was to sleep. A dead man's deep sleep, so deep that she could forget everything.
Crawling to the bed, Tilia finally managed to crawl under the worn blanket, pulled it over her head and began to breathe slowly and deeply.
Real life. By repeating these words that she muttered countless times today, the terrifying reality seemed to disappear, giving way to her dreams.
In the castle she had painstakingly built from imaginary bricks, there were no fathers, no brothers, no flowers sent by the man who wanted to make her his mistress.
It was just herself there, working as a foreign diplomat in Ontario.
In the foggy window of her imaginary castle, Tilia saw herself.
It was a leisurely weekend and she found herself busy cleaning her small private home.
After putting away the dust-covered ceramic figurines she had impulsively bought, she finally finished her business.
Sighing contentedly, she watched as she poured the sparkling water into a clear glass and took a refreshing sip.
She then placed the pre-prepared apple pie on her plate, her face showing nothing but peace and happiness.
As she imagined the furniture and the smell of apple pie in great detail, the pain in her stomach gradually subsided.
Before standing up, Tilia stared blankly at the cobwebbed corner of her room.
Clap. She lightly slapped her still pale cheek and walked towards her desk instead of the bathroom.
"Study. I need to study."
She knew exactly what she needed to do to achieve her true life. She also knew what was the best option for her now.
“I have to pass the exam. I have to..."
Having repeated her goal, Tilia pulled herself together, quickly opened her books for the second exam and began to study.
Her gaze was firmer now than at any other moment that day.
***
Every Sunday morning, the Davenport family maintained a long-standing tradition of meeting for breakfast, which Ilex's father never broke.
Using the academy as an excuse, Ilex had managed to avoid it, but now that he was home for the holidays, he had to return to his assigned seat at the table.
Why support such a meaningless tradition that no one cares about?
Laughing at his father's superficial sense of decorum, Ilex took the cutlery.
- Ilex.
He heard his name just as breakfast was ending and the silence at the table was finally broken.
Turning his head, he saw his brother Gilbert sitting next to their father.
“The servants say that you have recently shown interest in a young lady,” Gilbert said, smiling warmly as always.
- They say you send her flowers every day? Rumor has it that you are quite keen.
Ilex looked blankly at his brother's cheerful face.
Gilbert, who bore a striking resemblance to his father, was known for his kindness, but was also criticized for being too good-natured.
He had the noble blond hair and blue eyes of their father, Duke Edmund Davenport, but it was often said that his son lacked the Duke's cold determination.
But Ilex, who knew what lay behind that soft exterior, was confident.
Gilbert was not just a man similar in appearance to the Duke.
Gilbert clearly inherited the deep-seated inferiority complex that Gilbert experienced from his father.
- Well...
Gilbert acted as if he was just trying to start a conversation, but Ilex wasn't stupid enough to think that the topic had been chosen recklessly.
Maintaining a straight face, Ilex casually moved the cutlery, ensuring that Gilbert could not read his emotions.
- A coin found on the street turns into a treasure - this hardly deserves an answer.
- Is this the young lady you brought to the Essentine estate?
But it seems that this topic was not the work of Gilbert alone, it was a plan invented together with his father.
As soon as Ilex tried to brush it off, Edmund spoke, looking sternly at his son:
“I heard that you fired the maids because they talked out of business with that young lady.” Even the head maid, whom I personally appointed.
We should have killed them all. Ilex cursed his misplaced mercy and met his father's gaze.
With a stern expression befitting a father reprimanding his unlucky son, Edmund Davenport scolded him:
- Have fun, but don't go beyond what is reasonable. Don't let this tarnish your reputation.
Ilex knew very well why his father even bribed the maids in the Essentiné mansion, which his grandfather had given him.
He was afraid that his precious chess piece might begin to acquire ideas of its own. The fact that Ilex did not drop out of the academy as expected must have made him suspicious.
He must have been investigating Tilia Ambrose's past as well as her father's actions.
It was a mistake. He should have taken her to the hotel that night, not the annex. A momentary misstep nearly exposed his grand plan.
- Having fun won't hurt my reputation.
- The Clayton family is very unhappy.
The moment Ilex responded with feigned indifference, Edmund reprimanded him sternly.
- They don’t understand why you postponed the engagement until after graduation from the academy - if it was about a wedding, this would be understandable, but an engagement? The Claytons have always been staunch allies of our family. Don't disappoint them.