Aileenâs vehement denial was what brought Violetâs irritation to a critical level.
Aileen had been doing the same schtick for a while now.
When Violet had picked up an instrument before, Aileen deliberately started learning the same instrument, showing everyone just how better she was than Violet.
Thatâs how she wrenched away any compliment from her older brothers that might have otherwise gone Violetâs way. No matter what kind of studies Violet pored over, no matter what kind of hobbies sheâd take up, it was the same outcome each and every time.
Whether it was a deliberate scheme, or an attempt at getting closer to herâ what was it, really?
Aileen continuously said that it was because sheâs trying to be closer to âVioletâ. So, in the end, Violet had stopped banking on the likelihood of that premise.
Since itâs like that, then Aileen just had to watch her mouth.
Violet couldnât understand Aileenâs mental gymnastics. How could she want to be closer to the very person who supposedly kept tormenting her?
âYes, yes. You were taught to paint this by a teacher, right? You did great by following whatâs standard. Good job. Commendable, even.â
As Violet said this with a crooked smile on her lips, she tilted her teacup forward and spilled tea all over the sketchbook.
âNow leave. And donât ever show up in front of me again. If you ever come to this place once more, the next thing thatâll be poured tea over is your face.â
ââŠâŠâ
Then, she smiled brightly.
Steam started to rise from the sketchbook, and the teaâs stain began to spread further across the pages.
As she could not grasp the situation, Mary was the only one who watched the scene unfold with a blank expression on her face.
âAre you deaf? Get out of my sight. This instant.â
âUh, hiic, hiicâŠÂ I-I just, I just wanted to hear a compliment from, from you, Sister⊠Youâre so mean. You always⊠always keep putting me, me down. I, I onlyâŠâ
Drip, drip. Transparent droplets trickled down from Aileenâs clear green eyes.
For a moment, Violet contemplated whether she should pour the rest of the hot tea right into that face. But eventually, she loosened her grip and set down the cup.
âSince Aileen is leaving, do see her off up to just the main door. Be sure to wipe the spilled tea on the floor as well.
As Violet succinctly gave this order, Mary quickly snapped back in attention.
âY-Yes!â
It seemed like Aileen was refusing to move. Mary moved to soothe the crying girl, but all Violet did was turn around and leave them behind her. She pressed down on her temples and went back upstairs to her room.
This was going to worsen Violetâs notorious reputation again.
Rumors would be running rampant at the main mansion yet again tomorrow.
Oh, dear kind, angelic Aileen laboriously made an effort to draw something for her older sister Violet, all because she had wanted to get close to her. However, oh! The evil Violet poured tea all over those drawings and went as far as to kick the girl out.
But even before all that happened, Violet left the dear, frail young woman outside and made her wait thereâin this freezing weatherâfor four hours before even letting her in.
Violet thought, should she have suppressed her emotions? She had been fine when she saw the faces of those other people, but the moment Aileenâs face was set before her, it seemed impossible to remain unbothered.
Violet pushed down the urge to let out a long sigh.
She had only recently gotten close to Mary, but now that the girl had been faced with that kind of scene, itâd undoubtedly be awkward again from tomorrow onwards.
A human being wouldnât be able to continue living without any form of relationship. Emotions flowed like water. If it was stuck somewhere without any direction to flow towards, all it could do was accumulate.
How long would she last living like this, just focusing on painting alone, talking to no one at all?
Violet started to calculate the exact date she might go insane, but she stopped. She might already be crazy at this point.
She was lying in bed now, but her simmering resentment refused to abate. Violet tried to regulate her breathing several times over.
If only she could express her feelings in color, then it would be completely black, dirty water, to the point that no one would come near her.
An overwhelming sense of lethargy surged within her like a wave. However, at the same time, a certain urge arose as well.
With these feelings as her driving force, what kind of piece would come out of this if she were to paint now?
As she pondered one thing after another, she soon heard a hesitant knock on her door.
ââŠCome in.â
The moment Violet gave her permission, Mary came in through the threshold. In Maryâs hands was a tray, and atop it was a sweet tart and a drink.
âUmm, I heard that itâs good to eat sweets when angry. âŠAre you alright, Milady?â
ââŠAre you asking me how I feel?â
âYes? Y-Yes! You must be upset, and⊠I-I must be meddling unnecessarilyâ Pardon me, Iâll take these back!â
âNo, itâs fine. Bring it here.â
Violet was momentarily stunned by the unexpected response, however, her gaze soon softened as she looked at the small girl.
Embarrassed, Mary squirmed a little and averted her eyes.
She brought the tray to a nearby table and looked at Violet again. It seemed like she had something more to say.
âI-Itâs more delicious if you eat and drink these before they get cold!â
ââŠThank you.â
ââŠâŠâ
ââŠâŠâ
A brief moment of silence then blanketed the room. Mary determinedly remained inside Violetâs room, still very much gauging her mood.
Itâs true that Violet thanked the girl for the refreshments, but she didnât really have any intention of eating or drinking any of these. Still, she eventually spoke up.
ââŠArenât you afraid of me?â
âHuh? Why?â
âWhy, you ask⊠You saw what happened earlier.â
âBut⊠Lady Aileen slighted you first, Milady.â
ââŠâŠâ
At the girlâs fast reply, Violet was rendered speechless.
Mary cut up the tart into bite-sized pieces and offered the plate to Violet.
Still dazed and unable to comprehend the situation, Violet unknowingly went on to eat the tart.
ââŠWhy do you think that Aileen was the first to do something wrong?â