Normally, the marquis had his lunch and dinner in his study and seldom came down to the dining hall to have lunch specifically. But today, today was the first day after his beloved son had returned from the long-standing war. How could he have the heart to be separated from his son. Inviting his ill-bred daughter to their luncheon was just a formality the Marquis had went through to show his magnanimity. It didn’t matter if she came or not. As long as she didn’t impede the path of his son’s glory, her existence mattered little.

“Is Beo really coming to lunch?” Thoren asked the head maid for the third time today.

Since yesterday, Thoren felt like he had been in a daze. He still couldn’t believe that his sister who had always hated his guts, had finally come to see eye to eye with him.

“Yes, young master. The young Miss is getting ready and will be down in a short while.” Was the head-maid’s polite reply.

“I see. Then we will wait until she arrives.” He spoke with a light smile.

“Understood young master.” And the servants, as commanded, did not bring in the main course before Beotis’s arrival.

“Ah, This girl! What is she up to? Doesn’t she know the timing for the luncheon? Why is she always late? At this rate, she is going to starve us the entire day! Rodrick, go call for her this instant.” Lady Dolores Vermont, Beotis’s paternal aunt grumbled, a little irritated.

“Aunty! We are fine. Let Beo take her time. Besides, its not like she is an hour or so late. We can still wait.” Thoren stopped the butler, Rodrick from going up the stairs to look for Beotis swiftly. He was indeed a bit anxious to meet his dear sister today, but it was not to the point that he was willing to let her be embarrassed by this no-good aunt of his.

Lady Dolores was a widow who had her husband’s estate confiscated because he was involved in fraud and embezzlement of the royal funds. Since she lost her husband and his estate, she and her two children, Andreas Vermont and Selene Vermont came to stay with her brother, Marquis Hildred Lagraine, and has been living under the roof of the Lagraines since then.

“Brother, ... father. I apologise for being late.” At that very moment, Beotis walked into the room in a poised relaxed manner.
   
When Beotis had reached the doors of the dining hall, she happened to hear the annoyed shrill voice of this so-called aunt of hers.

She couldn’t help but frown when she heard her carping about her being tardy and coarse behind her back. The original Beotis Lagraine was an estranged soul in this huge mansion. She was foolish, couldn’t see right from wrong and alone, hence vulnerable. Dolores Vermont took advantage of this fact to squeeze into the crevices of her loneliness.

She literally brainwashed the girl and spared no effort in fanning the flames between her and Thoren.

Thoren was a hard nut to crack, but the motherless Beotis Lagraine was not. So, she was one of the many reasons Beotis  and Thoren Lagraine grew further and further apart.

Beotis clicked her tongue and pulled up her heavy skirt to walk into the room and took her rightful place beside her brother.

“.... You’re late.” Said the marquis in a curt, cold tone.

Beotis, for the first time turned to face this famous scumbag father of hers.

The man was a clear head higher than most people she would consider tall. Somehow, he wasn’t lanky though, there’s bulk on him too; His hair was the same beautiful chestnut hued that as of Beotis and his eyes were a dull grey. He looked an awful lot like an older version of her brother but when he met Beotis’s gaze for the first time, his eyes were not shining with the kind of warmth like Thoren’s, but with a blunt refusal to avert his gaze first. It was a little odd to see those half-familiar features devoid of warmth, like they were stolen.
The marquis observed her with the gaze of a stranger, that aloof judgement with no strings. She could tell that, from afar, he had made many unfavourable opinions about her, the prejudice and indifference shone strong in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for being tardy. I really didn’t mean to.” Beotis looked him straight in the eye, not willing to avert her gaze as well, and spoke politely.

The marquis frowned for a moment, not knowing what he was thinking, Beotis continued, “I too wanted to have lunch with my family for a long time now, but as I had been a bit ill since yesterday, I woke up late today. I do apologize for my tardiness. I hope father can look past my mistakes this time.”

“..... How many of your mistakes do you want me to look past?” Was what the marquis asked, and the harmonious atmosphere immediately cool down to a freezing point.

Beotis knitted her brows tight, but didn’t want to counter the marquis directly. She wanted to appease this scumbag from hell with a few apologetic words for the time being, but Thoren was having none of it.

“Father!”

~ ••••••••• ~