Maggie clung to her mother’s skirt, her small face streaked with tears. She tried to disappear behind Emilia, but her mother looked just as lost, her eyes darting for an escape that wasn’t there. Across from them stood another mother, flanked by her two daughters—each one short and round, their faces mirrors of each other, all three wearing the same look of cold disdain. The crowd pressed in, hungry for spectacle, their curiosity sharp and unkind. I couldn’t help but sigh inside. Of course it had to be the Yuwen Family again, my own family, caught in the center of everyone’s attention.
“That you despicable whore have the nerve to show up here and parade that fake bastard brood.”
Each insult seemed to weigh Emilia down, her shoulders curling inward as if she could fold herself out of sight. Maggie’s quiet sobs grew louder, trembling through the air. For a heartbeat, I thought Emilia might find her voice, but whatever words she gathered slipped away, lost beneath the next wave of cruelty.
“I didn’t…”
“Tell me what spell did you use to seduce my husband? Wayne would never have broken his wedding vows to me.”
The crowd watched with something like pity, their eyes softening for Maggie, but none of them stepped forward. Their sympathy was a distant thing, useless and silent, leaving the tension to thicken around Emilia and her daughter.
So Emilia’s husband was called Wayne. In my short time with the Yuwens, no one had even mentioned his name or family name before. Everyone just seemed to avoid the issue even though he had just died the year before I arrived.
Watching this feels awful.
I myself wouldn’t know what I would do if Janus cheated on me, but I’d like to believe I at least wouldn’t blame a child born from that betrayal. Next to me, Janus looked like he was willing to make this short fat woman one head shorter, but thankfully that was when Martha, as well as her brothers Jack and William, came to their sister’s aid.
Martha gently gathered her sister and Maggie, guiding them away from the hungry eyes, while the twins stood firm, blocking anyone who tried to follow. The argument behind them grew heated, voices rising and falling, until Maria swept in like a sudden storm. Before anyone could react, she struck the woman who had insulted her daughter and granddaughter—once, twice, a third time—each slap echoing through the palace halls. Even Emilia, halfway to safety, paused at the sound, a small, almost secret smile flickering at the corner of her mouth as she watched her usually awfully calm mother defend her with such fierce love.
The slaps left the woman’s face a mess—makeup smeared, mascara running in black rivers, hair wild and tangled. Blood trickled from her nose, staining her dress, and her cheeks were already swelling as her daughters tried to steady her. She stared at Maria, fear flickering in her eyes, while Maria’s silent glare promised there would be no forgiveness here.
The woman opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but the words died before they could form. Something in her seemed to break, and she finally saw herself as the crowd did—a spectacle, not a victor. She hurried away, her daughters fussing over her, the three of them disappearing down the corridor in a flurry of shame and ruined finery.
It was only after they vanished around the corner that the crowd began to drift away, the tension dissolving like mist. Maria lowered her reddened hand, her sons finally releasing her. By the time Janus and I reached her, she had already returned to her book, as if nothing at all had happened.
“Good slap, how is your hand?”
She offered me her hand without a word, and I let a gentle pulse of mana ease the ache from her palm. She flexed her fingers, then switched her book to the newly healed hand, a small sign of approval. I thought that would be the end of it, but instead of a quiet word like when she congratulated me on my marriage, she spoke up, her voice carrying for all to hear.
“Next time don’t hold me back.”
She turned away, settling beside her father with her book, as if the world hadn’t just shifted. The rest of us stood there, stunned and silent. If anyone asked later what had truly shaken us that evening, it would be this impossible moment.