Blood Ties and Bitter Truths
Izabel hesitated for a moment before kicking off her blanket and springing to her feet.
Kallen said quietly.
As she spoke, a wave of resentment surged through her.
That's right. She had fallen too. She had tumbled backward and rolled across the ground.
Her elbow had been scraped raw and blood was pouring out! Yet no one had cared about that at all!
Izabel thrust her bandaged elbow forward and shouted.
Kallen held back a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to end this conversation right here.
How had Izabel become like this? Spoiled, arrogant, and utterly selfish.
……
Tears streamed down Izabel's face as she poured out all the grievances she had bottled up.
Kallen's gaze grew increasingly cold.
When he had created the perfume in their sister's name, Canna had actually opposed it.
Yet here was Izabel, crying and whining about why he hadn't named a perfume after her instead. She sounded like a seven-year-old throwing a tantrum.
The perfume had been named after Canna at Kallen's insistence.
It possessed a beautiful scent the world had never known before. Canna had even discovered a way to suppress the fragrance's volatility. It was a revolutionary achievement.
However, to deceive the Empress, they had to hide the fact that Canna was the one who created the blending formula.
Kallen found that deeply regrettable.
It was a wondrous perfume that deserved everyone's praise, yet they could not reveal its true creator.
So, in a small gesture of reverence, he had given it her name.
……
Izabel trembled with rage as she screamed.
At the outrageous slander, Kallen's eyes finally sharpened.
Had Izabel always been this pathetic?
Fatigue washed over him. His head throbbed painfully. He couldn't tell if it was from the nonsense Izabel had spewed or from the sheer disappointment.
Izabel's eyes wavered.
Kallen spoke with firm emphasis.
At those words, Izabel exploded.
Frustratingly, he was right. While their father was absent, the authority of acting head of the family rested with Kallen.
Kallen issued a warning to his twin sister.
In the end, a single tear slid down Izabel's cheek.
Kallen turned away from her and left the room.
The door clicked shut, followed by the sound of Izabel hurling a vase and screaming in fury.
Kallen lay down in bed, hoping to fall asleep.
But sleep would not come.
He had told them to report to him the moment she returned, yet no one had come. What time was it already, and she still hadn't returned?
Kallen opened his eyes and checked the pocket watch he had left beside his pillow.
It was already so deep into the early morning.
What if something dangerous happened to her?
Meeting thugs, or perhaps a robber…
But when he thought of her companion, the possibility seemed nonexistent.
Besides, the two of them were husband and wife, after all. There was nothing strange about them spending the deep hours of night together.
But she said she would come home.
It was an eerily similar situation to before.
Him clinging desperately, Canna pushing him away, and chasing after Sylvien.
How pathetic he had been back then. The crushing misery of that moment still felt vividly real.
But things were different now.
Canna had smiled gently and said she would return soon. It was different from the past. So he should be able to sleep peacefully now.
Yet sleep refused to come.
Izabel's words from earlier kept echoing in his head.
How much must she have wanted to tear their sister down to think such things? Kallen found it impossible to believe that Izabel was truly his twin.
Had Father always looked that gullible in Izabel's eyes?
If there had been even the slightest doubt, he would have conducted a paternity test long ago.
Among the alchemists who used mana stones, there were those with techniques to distinguish blood relations. Hadn't Lucy also been confirmed as his biological daughter through such a test before being accepted?
Therefore, if there had been any suspicion regarding Canna, a paternity test would have been performed immediately.
But Alexandro had never done so.
That meant he was absolutely certain she was his daughter.
Yet she still spouted such nonsense.
Thump. Thump.
His heart began to beat strangely, as if he had heard the devil's whisper.
It was nonsense.
There was no way Canna noona wasn't Canna noona.
Kallen narrowed his eyes, drenched in a thick sense of disgust.
Izabel's words stung like thorns.
For a very, very long time.
The next day, Canna woke up early in the morning.
The maid approached as if she had been waiting the entire time and asked for her preference. It was the kind of attentive service that should have been natural, yet Canna had never once received it in this house.
Canna looked at the maid with curious eyes. There was no way the servants would do this of their own accord.
Sylvien must have assigned her a proper maid.
At the very least, while they were conducting their 'transaction,' he treated her with meticulous care.
His attitude toward a business partner is far more respectful than toward a wife.
……But now that she thought about it, his initial attitude toward Juhwa hadn't seemed particularly bad either.
So at what point had it gradually turned so icy that it might as well have said 'I don't care if you die!'?
Canna carefully sifted through Juhwa's memories before shaking her head vigorously.
She couldn't pinpoint exactly when the change had occurred. In any case, it wasn't an important issue for her.
She was curious about Sylvien's condition. If her prediction was correct, after taking the gamdutang, even the faint fever should have completely disappeared by now.
If he's fully recovered…
Her heart raced with anticipation.
Finally, the divorce.
The maid bowed politely and left. Canna stared after her for a moment before bursting into laughter.
Only then did she remember who this maid was.
Obviously, you should have washed them.
But the maid had simply scoffed and replied, "Wash them yourself or throw them away. Do whatever you want."
In the end, Juhwa had sat alone in the bathhouse, scrubbing the clothes by herself.
Poor Juhwa.