novelraw Chapter 221 221: Final breakdown.
Chapter 221 221: Final breakdown.
"That's preposterous! Did you not hear what I said—" Isabella rose to face her, her own anger flaring, looking defensive
"YES, I DID, AND THAT'S WHY I'M SAYING IT'S A LIE!" Victoria's voice tore through the room, and with it, something else shifted. The Viscountess's eyes widened momentarily, not just at the words, but at the sudden, palpable stir in the air.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. A faint, crystalline shimmer, visible only at the edge of perception, vibrated around Victoria. It was her magical power, usually kept in such tight, impeccable control, now roiling to the surface, agitated by the torrent of her emotions. Books on the shelves trembled slightly. The flame of the single candle on the desk guttered and danced wildly.
"Ever since she's been born, you and Father have always favored her more than you did me!" Victoria continued, the magical resonance giving her voice an eerie, layered quality. "She gets all your smiles, your constant forgiveness and softness." Victoria clenched her fists so much that it made popping sounds.
" And I? What do I get?!"
" All I've ever gotten is the expectations, the responsibilities, the criticism. And now, when I finally want something, one thing for myself, you're here to take it away and hand it to her on a silver platter. It's clear you're just trying to help Esmeralda marry him into the family, rather than me. Because she's the one who needs to be happy. I just need to be useful."
"Victoria! Marriage isn't something so simple, nor is it a prize to be won! Besides—"
"Besides what?" Victoria took a step forward, the ambient magic making the hairs on Isabella's arms stand on end. "That he isn't some high-ranking noble you plan on selling me off to in the name of marriage? A duke's second son, perhaps, or a marquess with horrible breath and a worse temper? An alliance to bolster the family name while I wither inside a stranger's house?" Her voice was harsher by the second, each word a shard of ice and fire.
"Well, I don't care. I'll say it now and I don't plan on changing it. He will be the only one I'll ever marry. And if Esmeralda plans on stealing him away from me, you can tell her that I'd rather die than let that happen!"
The ultimatum hung in the frozen air, sounding absolute and terrifying.
SMACK!
The sound was shockingly loud in the tense silence, a crisp, like a violent punctuation mark. Almost without conscious thought, propelled by a maelstrom of fear, anger, and a desperate need to stop the blasphemous words, Isabella's hand flew out. The slap connected with Victoria's cheek, snapping her head to the side.
For a heartbeat, there was utter stillness. The chaotic energy in the room condensed into a single, painful point.
"You insolent child!" Isabella retorted, her face flaring with heat, her palm stinging. The shock of her own action vibrated up her arm. "Is that how you speak to your mother? To threaten death over a man?"
But her breath hitched, the rest of her tirade dying in her throat. Victoria slowly, deliberately, turned her face back. The red mark stood out lividly against her pale skin. But it was not the mark that stole Isabella's breath. It was her daughter's eyes. The pleading, the fury, the betrayal, all of it was gone. In its place was an emptiness, a glacial void. Victoria's gaze locked onto hers, and it was icy cold, sharp enough to flay a person's soul with one glance. There was no love anymore, nor was there respect, not even anger remained, for all that was left, was just a vast, chilling blizzard.
The once chaotic room turned preternaturally silent, a thick, suffocating atmosphere of finality pressing down on them. The faint magical shimmer had vanished, pulled back behind an impenetrable wall.
"Get… Out…" Victoria eventually muttered, the words flat, devoid of all emotion. The piercing glare remained, a dismissal more absolute than any shouted curse.
The Viscountess stood, struggling to draw air into her lungs. Though they were both practitioners of the third tier of magic, a match in raw potential, she felt utterly powerless in that moment. It was not magical force that crushed her, but the sheer, devastating weight of her daughter's gaze. The bridge between them hadn't just been burned; it had been frozen over and shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
Wordlessly, her chest aching with a pain far deeper than any physical blow, Isabella turned. She walked to the door, her steps unsteady on the firm floor. She opened it, stepped through into the cool darkness of the corridor, and closed it softly behind her, leaving the glacial silence of Victoria's world intact.
*******
Later, when full dark had claimed the estate and the household had settled into its nocturnal rhythms, a hesitant knock came at the Viscountess's private sitting room door. Esmeralda, her face freshly washed but eyes still holding a hopeful, lingering redness, peered in.
"Mother?" she whispered, slipping inside. "How… how did your conversation with Victoria go?"
Isabella, who had been staring unseeingly at the dying embers in her own fireplace, turned. The sight of Esmeralda's hopeful, fragile expression struck her like a fresh wound. But this time around, She did not have the energy for softness, nor careful fabrication. The truth, in all its brutal simplicity, was all she had left.
"It did not go well," Isabella said, her voice dull, stripped of its usual melodic warmth. "She will not be persuaded. Her mind, and her heart, are set."
The transformation on Esmeralda's face was immediate and devastating. The hope crumpled like parchment in a fist. Her lips trembled, her eyes welled anew, and a small, wounded sound escaped her. Without another word, she turned and fled the room. Minutes later, from the distant direction of her room, the muffled, heart-wrenching sounds of renewed sobs echoed down the hall, the desperate, hopeless bawling of a child who believes she has lost everything.