Chapter 290 Two “sisters” alone? (IV)
White Dragon Labyrinth Exploration Arc.
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(POV: Akashic Records)
Lumila observed her younger self and Elise from the gazebo.
Sensing her sister's solemn behavior, little Lumila spoke up.
"Why are we even staying here, Elise? This gazebo is always empty."
Elise let out a small, sniffled sigh, her face reflecting a tinge of sadness.
"I... I got lost and ended up here. And I rembered you once told that when I'm lost, I should sit where I am, put my head down, and hope you'll co find ," she confessed quietly.
A sigh escaped little Lumila's breath. "Honestly," she carried her face in her palm.
"I was waiting for you and got lost..."
A gentle smile graced little Lumila's lips as she scratched her rosy cheeks. "I guess I did say that," she admitted, extending her hand towards Elise. "Well then, let's get going. It's getting late."
Elise nodded slowly, wrapping the black scarf around her neck for comfort and warmth. It was now her most prized possession. Calmly, she took little Lumila's hand, allowing herself to be led away from the gazebo.
Lumila watched them depart.
"Now I rember why she almost always says sorry to ... I forgot that was even a secret code..."
However, the scene swiftly shifted, dissipating like a thick mist, and Lumila found herself in the opulent halls of Belfort Manor. It was a mory from when little Lumila was nine, standing before her father, Lord Marges Belfort. His bald head was adorned with thick green beards and his piercing blue eyes held a stern glare.
His voice bood through the hall as he berated his daughter, cautioning her against associating with the other branches of the Belfort family.
"I've warned you before, Lumila! Associating with them only shows weakness, sothing mbers of our prestigious family should never display!" he thundered.
The Belfort house was the most powerful of the three houses. As such he saw their association with the lower houses as a ans through which they could exploit the Belfort house. He especially feared Elise Quinette's family. Because the Quinette house at so point had patriarchy as the leading norm, but again, the won of the house were able to overpower the patriarch and restore the matriarchal system of leadership in their noble household.
Marges feared the scales could be tipped more. And more than anything, he was scared they'd use his daughter to achieve that goal.
Little Lumila, showing a surprising strength despite her tender years, t her father's gaze without flinching. "But Elise is my sister," she declared earnestly.
Lord Marges bellowed back at her.
His voice was echoing through the hall, demanding her silence.
"Shut up, you foolish little girl! Elise is nobody to you; she should be forgotten!"
Little Lumila, her small fra quivered. However, determined she was.
She mustered every ounce of courage within her and took a few steps forward. She squared her shoulders and t her father's intense gaze.
She refused to accept his words.
"No, Father! There's no way I'll accept that! Elise's my sister, and I'll cherish her more, infinitely more than even Huga!"
Her words hung in the air, a challenge to her father's authority.
The mont those defiant words left her lips, Lord Marges Belfort snapped. His face twisted with anger, and without a mont's hesitation, his hand lashed out and struck little Lumila across the cheek. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the ground, blood dripping from her trembling lips.
She spat out the tallic taste of iron, her shocked golden eyes brimming with tears.
"Y… Y… You slapped ," she stamred.
Lord Marges, his anger still simring, refused to show any remorse.
His pride was too great to admit to a mistake, and instead, he admonished her for speaking ill of her half-brother.
"You shouldn't have spoken like that about Huga! He's your brother!" he barked.
Even while attempting to address his daughter in a lenient matter typical of familiarity. And yet, it ca out as him trying to impose his will on her.
Still, that was always the goal.
Little Lumila's voice trembled with anger and anguish as she lifted herself up from the ground, her gaze never wavering.
"You defend him so fervently because Anne gave birth to a son, while my mother couldn't. All my mother could give birth to was , and in the end, I'm just collateral damage, aren't I?"
Anne was her stepmother.
Her words pierced through the air, striking a nerve within Lord Marges.
Unable to control his mounting fury, Lord Marges stepped forward and forcefully grasped Lumila's delicate wrist. He tried to collect himself, but her words continued to sting him, striking at his very core.
"Shut up this instant!" he spat, his grip tightening around her wrist.
Little Lumila, her voice filled with defiance, let out a shout.
She didn't let down for even one mont.
"Let go of ! I'll never agree to that! Elise is my sister!" she retorted.
In a flurry of rage, Lord Marges assaulted his daughter with slaps and punches that he didn't even know he had in him. He let out an overwhelming rage he never believed could've sprouted from his being.
The mist then vanished again, and Lumila found herself imrsed in another fragnt of her past. She stood on the road within the sprawling grounds of the Belfort estate, watching as her younger self approached Elise and her mother. It was clear that they had co for a eting between the three noble houses, and Lumila couldn't contain her excitent at the sight of her sister.
With every intention of greeting Elise, little Lumila bounded forward, but her eagerness was quickly quelled by a stern-faced maid.
"Lady Lumila, it wouldn't be appropriate to associate with Lady Elise in public. It's important to maintain proper appearances," the maid scolded.
Frustration etched onto her face, little Lumila halted in her tracks, her brows furrowing in disappointnt.
"But..."
"No buts, Lady Lumila..."
She muttered under her breath, but her words carried the weight of her longing.
"But she's my sister…"
As the mist swirled around her, more mories unfolded before Lumila's eyes. Each scene revealed how her younger self had undergone a transformation, shedding her tomboyish nature for a more feminine deanor. She found herself surrounded by friends from various noble houses, and she would often pass Elise without exchanging a single word. In those monts, Elise could only bury her face in her scarf and retreat, clutching tightly onto her books.
As ti went on and it was revealed that Elise was next in line to lead the Quinette house, tension seeped into their fractured friendship. Lumila observed these mories, feeling a tight pain constricting her throat, but words escaped her grasp.
"Elise…" she whispered.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence, urging her to confront her emotions.
"Do you miss her?" the younger Lumila asked, her eyes searching Lumila's with curiosity.
Lumila blinked in surprise, snapping out of her daze.
"Hm?" she mumbled, eting the gaze of her younger self.
The scene around them faded, leaving only darkness as the two Lumilas stood alone.
"Wait, you can see ?" Lumila questioned.
The younger Lumila smiled gently.
"Yes, we share the sa heart, after all. Do you miss her?" she asked again, her voice soft yet persistent.
"I..."
Lumila froze up.
They both knew the truth.
But knowing the truth and admitting it... Were two different things.
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