A woman, with gray streaking through her brown hair, sat in an abandoned and dusty room. The only clean thing in it was the dress she wore, an expensive and unwieldy thing. It swallowed her skeletal figure.

Is it true that money is the answer to all problems?

“Tch!”

Only if it is your money!

The moment of her contemplation was broken by an unwelcome creak from the door. Light entered the room, highlighting the sickly pallor of the woman’s face. She squinted at the maid. It was one she didn’t recognize by name, but her solid frame was familiar.

“Mrs. Nix, I’ve come to do your hair.”

And she came in without permission, coming behind the sitting woman with the brush and pins. The procedure was neither gentle nor cruel. Moving as if she brushed cattle. The bangs covering the pearl on the lady's forehead were pulled back roughly.

This was fine.

It wasn’t like the woman expected to be treated like she was sane after all that had transpired. It wasn’t just once or twice she’d caused a commotion, after all.

She ground her teeth. The maid ignored the hate that filled her charge’s eyes. Pins pricked her scalp as a bun was finished. The maid patted her shoulder.

“You’re done Mrs. Nix,” she said with a nod.

“Make sure to close the door,” the lady said.

The maid turned back, but the woman didn’t speak anymore. So the maid nodded and left.

Had it always been awful? No, it had not always been awful.

She was the kind of person who had once believed that as long as one was fed well, life could be happy. And she had been fed well.

But now.

She rubbed her wrists. They were wrapped in beautiful ribbons. Her face twisted into a scowl.

Now I can not even eat well. So how could I be happy?! Damn it all.

“I can do it,” she said, to an empty room. She sneered, the scowl still etched underneath it. “I will do it, be there no doubt.”

Outside the windows, a cold wind howled. Still, the lady didn’t move.

Eventually, the door opened again. A man from the Nix household. One of the guards. Again, she didn’t recognize him more than that.

He didn’t bother speaking as he pulled her standing. Holding her painfully thin arm tight enough to leave marks, she was pulled outside her room.

Two more guards straightened themselves as they went out.

The woman stepped in time with the guard leading her, not bothering to look at anything. But she was pulled to a stop only a few steps after starting.

“Young Lord Nix!” The guard spoke with excitement.

Aureum kept her gaze to the ground, her lip twitching. The voice she was expecting didn’t reply, however.

“Who’s young?” Came the idle reply with a stranger's voice.

She saw worn boots. If not the wretched dog-lover, then it could only be one other.

“If you’re old then what is the lord?” The guard replied.

“Immortal.”

It was a dry reply devoid of humor. The guard chuckled nervously as he bent towards the other man. The woman looked up and saw him.

Shorter than I remember.

He was only a bit taller than her, and she was not a tall woman. The formal attire would have been enough for some young women at the party, but the face wrecked any romantic daydreams.

It was worse than she remembered. Certainly, the sharp and strong bone structure with no leering or jeering in the eyes behooved him. But, every inch of the flesh was marred by small jagged scars, and his bald head was marked the same.

Just how did someone’s face become like this?

It was an inevitable thought when looking at the eldest son, Hiems Nix. Her brother-in-law.

The man looked at the guard.

“Is that a woman?”

Are his eyes marbles? The entire family is trash! Trash in a flaming heap!

“Yes, my lord!”

“Then stop holding her like a sack of potatoes,” he said, “Don’t you know how to treat a woman right?”

This.

This man clearly misunderstood the situation.

Both the guard and the woman watched him with incredulous eyes as he walked away. Who inside the house didn’t know the situation of this woman? Was there a servant here? But one of the young lords of the house didn’t know.

The woman could understand. After all this time living here for sixteen years, she had barely seen Hiems. It could be understood that the relationship between this father and son wasn’t great. He didn’t live here. Just came for the same reason she was dressed up for: the sake of appearances.

She spat at a particularly odious portrait. She was jerked forward, but nothing else was done.

Maybe it would be more surprising if he knew. What an obsession.

The guard knocked at the door and entered, waiting. She could feel the cold chill of his mana even outside.

“Let her come in.”

The guard stepped forward and bowed. This wasn’t the slight incline he gave towards the son, but an entire bend that made his face level to the floor.

That hateful voice. What voice could be more hateful? Nivis'? No. Not even close.

“Leave us, but wait outside the door.”

The door closed as she looked up. Leaving her to suffocate under the weight of that mana.

Caducus Nix, Great Lord of the city-state of Nix and ascended sorcerer of the Nix bloodline, looked down at her.

Of course, with only his right eye. The left remained shut as it always had. The room was a study, but the Great Lord seemed to have forgotten that. He sat on a large chair, with the floor raised on his end of the room. The desk was off to the side, as if unimportant.

“Child,” Lord Caducus said.

It could be said that she was not a child, but to an ancient man like Caducus, everyone was a child. Not that the old man even had the decency to look his age. He appeared no older than thirty. His son who she had just passed looked older.

“I desire to see you behave,” he said since she didn’t speak. “No unsightly behavior like there was two years ago.”

“Of course,” she said.

“If you try and set the curtains on fire like five years ago, the guards will take you away.”

“This goes without saying.”

Her voice was calm, but only she could taste the fear on her tongue. Alongside the fear, the bile of spite rose in her, prompting her against her wiser inclinations to speak.

Caducus shook his head.

“Haven’t you already realized?” He said. “There is nothing more left for you to try. No snide attitude can help you. Just bite your tongue and live with decency. Is even that too much to expect?”

“I!” She exclaimed, cutting herself off with alarm.