Chapter 170 - Ah, the Clichés

 

My father’s expression changed in a way that I had not expected. “Why?” he asked.

“The lady asked me to follow her to the estate. I said no, and she slapped my maid in return as if to scare me or something.” Father remained silent. However, I continued to speak confidently, “No matter how much I think about it, the marchioness must still think that I am engaged to Mikhail. That was why I decided to let her know that we have broken up for good.”

“So, what have you done?” he soon asked. It seemed that he was worried about a possible request regarding damage compensation, but I was not worried about revealing this aspect.

“I destroyed all the gifts I had given her previously, so it wouldn’t be easy for her to ask for reparations.”

“I see,” my father nodded, bursting into laughter. It was truly a rare sight to behold. In any case, it seemed he was satisfied that I had gotten my revenge without cost. Seeing how the conversation flowed smoothly, I felt at ease. That was when my father noted, “You do look ridiculous at this moment.”

Only then did I realize he was not willing to let go of the very thing I had not mentioned. But was I allowed to tell him what had happened with Mikhail? I began to worry, for he may reproach me for not acting as a duke’s daughter should—being unable to take care of a situation like that in a noble and ladylike way.

However, the reality was different. “It’s okay, so tell me what it is,” he encouraged. His expression and voice were warmer than usual, reassuring me. Perhaps that was why words naturally flowed out of my mouth.

“The thing is—I met Mikhail there as well. He seemed ill and said he was having trouble forgetting about me, so I spoke with him for a moment to make the parting a bit easier for him. But he got angry at me all of a sudden, and I started running…”

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It was weird. Just moments ago, I had forgotten about what had happened—thinking I simply had an unlucky day. But the sorrows of the incident came rushing to me like a flood. There was now a lump in my throat, and I couldn’t continue speaking.

I hadn’t been able to put down Mikhail, and instead, I had run away. My father was going to think of me as a good-for-nothing daughter.

As I shed silent tears, Max grabbed my hand tightly and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

I wasn’t crying because I was scared, but I couldn’t even respond to him. I belatedly wiped the tears off my face, deciding not to cry like a weakling anymore.

That was when my father called, “Jubelian.” I recoiled and looked up in response to his cold voice. “I’ll be back,” he said.

I had expected it but did not think he would leave so soon. As I thought, he was disappointed in me. It wasn’t like I didn’t know my father was a cold-hearted person, but the sorrow in me continued to grow. The pledge to not cry like a weakling anymore disappeared in an instant as tears began to fall again. I knew he probably thought of me as worthless, but I couldn’t believe he had left with such short notice.

Suddenly, a soft cloth touched my face. Thinking it was Max, I lifted my head. To my astonishment, it was my father who was wiping away the tears. He was wearing an expression I had never seen before.

“How dare he make my daughter cry? I will go and rip him into pieces,” he snarled.

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