Chapter 3

“Pfft!”

I burst into laughter before I could even try to hold it in.

A young Bellezac had called out to me. With his brown hair and eyes, he looked nothing like his mother, Selal. Instead, he was the spitting image of his father, Viese Lombardi.

His mischievous face was less than ideal, but as the eldest grandson of the Lombardi family, he had been a troublemaker constantly surrounded by women in my past life.

The person now in front of me was just a young boy, barely ten years old.

After a lifetime spent watching and cleaning up after all sorts of his dirty deeds, his face made my blood boil. But I had to admit, as a child, he was kind of cute.

“How dare you laugh at me!” he snapped.

His personality though... not cute. I considered apologizing for my unprovoked laughter until he spoke again.

“How dare a dirty half-breed like you laugh at me!”

He kept repeating that annoying phrase.

“Half-breed?”

Things slowly came back to me. “Half-breed” was a phrase that my cousins, including Bellezac, used to taunt me because my mother was a commoner.

“Cousin, that half-breed looks angry.”

I turned towards the enabler’s voice and found my uncle Laurels’ first-born son, Astaliu.

While Bellezac’s messy private life and violent tendencies had caused me headaches, Astaliu’s annoyance stemmed from his gambling habits. He was an unintelligent meathead who wore his heart on his sleeve, making him easy prey for gambling rings.

After Grandfather nearly kicked him out, Astaliu joined the Lombardi knights later in life, but not before gambling away several of the family’s buildings.

Right, these two always stuck together and tormented me.

“What’s she going to do if she’s angry?”

“You going to cry and wet yourself?”

In my past, I had been afraid of these two. Their bullying had been quite malicious for child’s play.

As they say, children can be cruel.

I had been too young and weak to bear the malice they directed at me—which is why, at the time, I was never able to run away. Instead, I usually stood there, trembling, hoping it would end quickly.

Sometimes they had stuck to taunts and insults, but when Bellezac was in a bad mood, I would end up with bruises.

Whenever my father got angry about it, Viese and Laurels would brush it off saying, “Don’t make a big fuss. Children grow through these experiences.”

I suppressed my anger, and asked, “Bellezac, how old am I?”

“What?”

My non-sequitur earned an odd look from Bellezac.

“How old am I?”

I wanted to lower my voice to be more intimidating, but as a child, there were limits to how imposing I could be.

“You don’t even know?” I asked with a hint of disdain.

“You’re seven! Of course I know!” Bellezac snapped back

Ah-ha, so I’m seven, huh?

“You’re right. I’m seven! You’re ten and Astaliu is eight.”

With roughly three years and one year between us, respectively, it was easy to calculate their ages.

“Now that we’re this old, it’s a shame to see you acting so childishly,” I continued.

Children always think they’re more grown up than they really are.

“You really shouldn’t be teasing your cousin by calling them half-breed.” I tried to persuade them gently, nicely.

How would these kids know? Their parents were the problem.

Bellezac’s demeanor became more hostile.

“‘Cousin’? ‘Childish’?”

He had seemed upset about something else already, picking on me because he needed a release for his anger. Bellezac approached me, grumbling, and gave me a threatening look.

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked as he raised one hand high.

For some reason he didn’t hit me right away. He seemed to be waiting for me to cower in fear. When I didn’t react the way he wanted, both Bellezac and Astaliu became flustered. That embarrassment translated into rough behavior against me.

“Ack!”

Bellezac’s raised hand grabbed my hair before he pushed me with all his might.

I fell hard, and both my knees and scalp began to throb in pain. I looked up to see a few strands of my copper-colored hair in Bellezac’s hand.

“Haha! Serves you right!”

The face he made while pointing and mocking me was the same he had used as an adult, yelling at me to do the laundry and treating me like a servant.

*Gulp*

As my suppressed emotions bubbled up, I felt a surge of anger.

“How dare you lecture me, you pitiful half-breed,” Bellezac said, tapping my head dismissively. “Just because you have our surname doesn’t mean you’re one of us.”

Astaliu snickered wickedly behind him.

“You’re not a Lombardi. Go back to the peasants’ quarters, you half-breed.”

“I told you to stop,” I muttered.

“What?”

“I told you not to call me half-breed.”

From my position on the ground, I lifted my leg and kicked Bellezac in the shin. It wasn’t a strong kick, but shin kicks hurt even with a small force.

“Ahh!”

Bellezac screamed and fell backwards, clutching his leg and rolling on the ground. I snatched my book, which had fallen nearby, and stood up.

Astaliu, after taking a startled step back, seemed to be approaching to help. Without a word, I turned towards him and gave him a stern look. That alone seemed to scare timid Astaliu enough to stop him in his tracks.

With another fierce glare, telling him to stay right where he was, I approached Bellezac, still on the ground.

“You ill-mannered puppy,” I said tauntingly.

It was a fitting description. His father, Viese, acted like a dog, and his son was often referred to as a son of a bitch, so...

He was a puppy. A puppy who didn’t know enough to fear a tiger.

I’ll fix your manners.

“You… you crazy girl!”

Despite his body writhing in pain, his mouth was still actively spewing insults.

Seems like he could take more of a beating.

I took the book and began beating Bellezac’s shoulder and arm. It was a thick book, so it should have hurt.

“Ow! Ouch!”

“You should have been prepared to get a beating from a half-breed, if that’s what you called me! Half-breed! Half-breed!”

“A... Astaliu! What are you doing standing there! Ow! Get this lowlife off me! Ouch!”

Bellezac desperately called for Astaliu’s help, but his cousin was just a big boy with a small heart, trembling off to the side.

What could you expect from an eight-year-old?

“Do you know how much I suffered because of you? Do you realize?!”

Ignoring his attempts to push me away, I clung fiercely to his arm and continued to hit him with the book.

Before long, my young body began to lose its breath, and my arms grew weak. If Bellezac had continued to resist, he might have pushed me away, but luckily I was safe.

Then he started to cry.

“Waahh! Help! Help!”

His cries were loud enough to make my ears ring.

The office door suddenly burst open and a loud voice boomed, “What is this commotion?”

A middle-aged man stood in front of us with neatly groomed hair and a white beard, exuding the fierceness of a lion’s mane.

“G...grandfather.”

My grandfather Lulac Lombardi, the head of the Lombardi family, fixed his fierce eyes on us—me on top of Bellezac, relentlessly beating him with a book.

“Bellezac!”

Viese burst out of the office behind Grandfather, yelling his son’s name before shoving me off of him.

Viese was much stronger than Bellezac. My book flew out of my hands as I used them to keep from hitting my head.

“Ow!” I cried, as palms and wrists began to sting.

That was when a friendly voice joined the chorus.

“Tia?” my father called, rushing over to me. “Oh my! Tia! You’re bruised!”

I must look a mess right now...

Bellezac had been crying, but I was probably worse for wear. Beside me, Bellezac was crying so loudly one would have thought he had broken a bone.

“Father! FATHER!”

“You! Apologize to my son right now!” Viese shouted.

He demanded an apology without even asking for context. It angered me to look at Viese’s wild eyes and angry expression. I quickly turned away.

“You insolent child!”

Viese lifted his arm as if to strike me.

“Brother!”

I felt my father’s protective embrace wrap around me. Given the fury in Viese’s eyes, he seemed ready to strike even my father.

“Enough of this!” Grandfather shouted. Even in a potentially explosive situation, one thunderous command from him could end it.

Viese was still fuming, but he could only glare murderously at me. Bellezac’s occasional sob was the only sound to break the silence in the hallway. I was nestled in my father’s arms with my head down.

Honestly, I was pissed.

I needed to make a good impression on my grandfather, but there I was, caught up in a scuffle. And with that idiot Bellezac, of all people.

After a moment of observing us, Grandfather looked at Astaliu. By then, he was clutching Laurel’s pant hem, looking quite pitiful.

“Astaliu, what happened here?” Grandfather asked.

After a quick glance up at his father, Astaliu responded.

“We... we were just walking, and then the half... I mean Firentia suddenly attacked us.”

What is this little puppy saying?