Chapter 240: Which Woman?
But before I could step out into the bright afternoon sun...
"...Is that so?"
I stopped, my hand hovering inches from the heavy brass door handle. I slowly turned my head back toward the grand foyer and saw...
Victor stepped out from the archway of the eastern corridor.
He was wearing a dark, sweat-dampened training outfit, clearly having just come from the sparring area after hearing the commotion.
His piercing grey eyes locked immediately onto mine, sweeping over the absolute chaos of the entrance hall.
Cedric was still writhing on the cold marble floor, whimpering as he clutched his cracked ribs. But Aldric had found his footing.
The head of the Raith family stood up, his face twisted into an ugly, vein-bulging mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
He gripped the hilt of his retrieved longsword so tightly his knuckles turned stark white.
"Now you’ve done it, boy," Aldric snarled, his voice dropping into a guttural, terrifying promise. "Don’t worry. I won’t kill you. But I will make absolutely sure you beg for it."
Victor didn’t even flinch at our father’s killing intent. He simply looked at me, letting out a slow, dramatic sigh.
"I am sorry, Father," Victor said, his tone perfectly flat. He reached to his hip, drawing his own razor-sharp broadsword with a clean metallic shing.
"I suppose I haven’t disciplined him nearly enough."
The two of them shifted into their sword stances, perfectly synchronized and entirely blocking my path back into the estate.
Damn it, my grip tightened on the black scabbard of Oathstorm.
Taking both of them head-on inside a confined space won’t be easy.
I rapidly began mentally calculating the cyan code for a localized edit, fully preparing to unsheathe my blade and tear the foyer apart.
But before anyone could even step forward to clash...
"Enough!"
The single word echoed from the upper landing, carrying an unnatural, terrifyingly heavy resonance.
In a fraction of a second, the temperature in the foyer violently plummeted to sub-zero.
A thick, blindingly white layer of frost exploded across the polished marble floor like a spiderweb.
Before Aldric or Victor could even react, massive, jagged pillars of ice erupted from the ground beneath them and crept violently up their legs and waists, completely freezing both men solidly in place right up to their mid-torsos.
Aldric let out a shocked gasp, his blazing aura instantly snuffed out by the sheer, suffocating cold. Victor gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms bulging as he strained against the ice, but the frozen prison didn’t even yield a millimeter.
Then, a cool, distinctly elegant voice drifted down from above.
"Don’t you barbarians know... clashing is forbidden indoors?"
I turned my head, my breath suddenly misting into white clouds in the freezing air.
Cassandra was slowly, gracefully descending the grand staircase.
She was dressed impeccably in the female version of the Academy uniform, a crisp, fitted dark blue jacket with elegant silver trim, worn over a pristine white shirt, and paired with sleek, tailored black skirt that allowed for flawless combat mobility.
The prestigious silver Academy crest was embroidered proudly over her left breast pocket.
Her long, silken silver hair waved slightly in the frigid, ambient draft generated by her own overwhelming mana.
Her piercing, perfectly calm grey eyes swept over her frozen father and eldest brother with mild annoyance, before finally shifting her gaze directly onto me.
Cassandra didn’t spare our father or Victor a second glance. She just looked directly at me, her piercing grey eyes devoid of any familial warmth.
"The carriage is ready," she stated flatly. "Don’t make me wait."
Without another word, she turned around, her silver hair catching the light as she casually walked out the heavy front doors.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the massive pillars of ice instantly dissolved into harmless puddles of water.
Aldric collapsed to his knees, violently shivering and gasping for breath as his body temperatures struggled to stabilize. Victor just glared.
I looked down at the freezing, miserable father. Then without saying a word, I just adjusted my coat and walked out.
Outside, a sleek, black carriage adorned with the crest was waiting at the bottom of the gravel path. I pulled the door open and climbed inside.
Cassandra was already seated on the plush velvet cushions opposite me. Her legs were elegantly crossed, and she was staring out the small glass window at the estate grounds, looking entirely bored by the morning’s violence.
I sat down on the bench across from her, the heavy door clicking shut. The carriage lurched forward, beginning its journey toward the Academy.
I just sat there, quietly looking at her. Cassandra had never physically abused the original Jin the way Victor or Cedric had. But her absolute indifference and crushing aura had always terrified him into stammering submission.
She didn’t turn her head away from the window.
"Are you really my brother?"
I blinked, completely caught off guard by the question.
"What?"
Cassandra slowly turned her head, her sharp, calculating grey eyes locking onto mine.
"You’re staring right at me. You aren’t shaking. You aren’t stammering. You aren’t avoiding my gaze like a frightened dog."
Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch.
"And you actually dared to strike Father."
I felt a sudden lump in my throat, my newly hardened instincts faltering slightly under her intense scrutiny.
"I-It’s—"
"Because of that bit—" Cassandra caught herself, her upper lip curling slightly in distaste.
"Woman?"
I blinked again, utterly derailed. "Huh? What?"
She gracefully raised a single, gloved finger, pointing directly at my left hand resting on my knee.
"That ring wasn’t there before," Cassandra stated coolly.
"And you are wearing it on your ring finger. In our society, that placement is strictly reserved for a vow of engagement or a claim of ownership. We do not wear casual accessories there."
She tilted her head, her gaze piercing right through me.
"Do you really think I couldn’t piece something like that together? You leave a coward, and return a rebel with a ring on that specific finger. It is obvious."
Fuck, she’s sharp.
Cassandra slowly crossed her arms over her chest. The temperature inside the carriage instantly plummeted, a thin layer of frost forming on the edges of the glass windows.
And her eyes practically glowed.
"Tell me," She demanded, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper.
"Which bit— woman put her mark on you?"