Chapter 4 The One To Blame

Before Athena could say a word, Nicolas stepped forward, blocking Margaret’s view.

“Athena! Are you doing this on purpose?” he snapped. “Three years weren’t enough to teach you some manners? Still playing your little games? You’ve really let me down!”

He looked at her sternly. “I told you to present yourself properly. What are you wearing?” His expression was full of disapproval, his tone unconsciously laced with the stern authority of a Justice Ministry official.

He looked at her like she was standing trial. “If you’ve got complaints, direct them at me. Why come here and put on a show in front of Grandmother? Are you trying to make her feel sorry for you? Do you want to upset her so badly she falls ill?”

Athena almost laughed out loud.

She raised an eyebrow, her smile cool and detached. “The clothes? Lady Eloise picked them out. What did you expect me to wear—what I came back in from the military camp?”

That shut him up. For a moment, Nicolas was at a loss. She had called Eloise “Lady Eloise”—not “Mother.”

Only then did it hit him: ever since Athena returned, she hadn’t regarded him as brother either.

A flicker of unease crept into his chest. The harsh words caught in his throat and never made it out.

His gaze narrowed, a thought nagging at the back of his mind. ‘It’s only been three years… how did she waste away like this?’

Eloise quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “That was my oversight. Don’t be too hard on Athena.”

Nicolas stepped aside, allowing Athena to enter.

Margaret’s eyes lit up the moment she saw her.

“Come here, come,” she called, her voice trembling slightly. “Let me take a good look at you.”

That warmth, that longing in her eyes—Athena felt her nose sting. She stepped forward and let Margaret take her hands and look her over from head to toe.

“How did you get so thin?” Margaret pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly, her voice choked with emotion. “My sweet girl… you’ve suffered. It’s all my fault. I’m too old, too useless… I couldn’t protect you…”

Athena knew how things had gone. Back then, Margaret had stood by her, even if it meant alienating the rest of the family. Her health had already been fragile.

The fact she’d made it through these years at all was a miracle. If not for the empire’s strict laws, no one knew what would’ve happened…

She wrapped her arms around Margaret and whispered through a tight throat, “Grandmother.”

Just one word—and Margaret broke down completely, tears streaming down her face.

Off to the side, Eloise watched the reunion, a pang of bitterness tightening in her chest.

Athena had been home for some time now… and still hadn’t called her “Mother.”

She dabbed at her eyes with a silk handkerchief, playing the part of the grieving parent.

Willow stepped up, gently hugging her. “Don’t be sad, Mother. Athena’s home now.” Her voice was soft, comforting, obedient.

Eloise looked down at her beloved Willow and felt deeply comforted.

She nodded, eyes still wet, but a faint smile tugging at her lips. She thought, ‘At least Willow understands.’

But just as she started to feel at ease, that smile froze.

Margaret’s voice, quivering and confused, rang out, “What’s going on?”

Athena’s once delicate fingers were now covered in scars—blackened bruises and jagged welts. When she lifted her sleeve, old knife wounds and fresh burns marred the skin along her arms.

Margaret’s gaze faltered. She couldn’t bear to look any longer. “She was sent to do labor… how did she end up like this?”

Eloise looked genuinely shocked. “These injuries—how did they happen?”

Surrounded by concerned faces, Athena buried the emptiness in her eyes and replied softly, “They came from the overseers at the camp, of course…”

Gasps rippled through the room. Athena’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. “I was there to work, not to be treated like a young lady. Getting beaten was just part of the routine.”

She didn’t say more. Even recalling it made her stomach turn.

But her few words had already shaken everyone to the core. They thought, ‘Beaten—for three full years. How has she even survived?’

Margaret’s hands trembled as she clutched Athena’s. “How could they? How dare they? You’re the duke’s daughter! That camp was under your fiancé’s command—how could anyone there lay a finger on you?”

Athena’s smile grew, cold and biting. “Because someone gave the order.”

Nicolas’s face turned red with fury. “You really are useless. You let them beat you like that and didn’t even fight back?”

Athena’s voice stayed flat, almost detached. “Do you think a place like that gave me the right to speak, let alone resist? Being quiet and obedient meant fewer beatings. That’s the reality.”

She looked directly at him, that faint smile still on her lips. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Lord Nicolas? For me to behave? To finally be ‘taught a lesson’? Well, I’ve learned it. I’m quiet now. Isn’t that what makes you happy?”

Nicolas stared at her in silence.

She was smiling, yes—but it never reached her eyes. She hadn’t said a single word of accusation, yet the guilt hit him like a knife to the chest.

His expression began to soften, just as he opened his mouth to speak—when Willow’s voice suddenly broke in.

“This is all my fault. I’m the one who should be blamed. If my body weren’t so weak—if I hadn’t reacted badly to the medicine—Athena never would’ve been punished.

“I was never meant to belong to this family anyway. Maybe… maybe I should go live in the countryside with my birth parents…”

She dissolved into sobs, her voice quivering with each breath. Tears streamed freely down her face, as if she were the one who had suffered.

Immediately, Eloise rushed to her side, flustered, gently stroking her back. “There, don’t cry, darling. You’ll make yourself sick.”

Nicolas jumped in too, alarmed. “You know how fragile your health is—what are you doing, crying like this? If I’d known, I never would’ve let you come. Now look what’s happened.”

Then he turned, casting a sharp look at Athena, as if to say, “Why do you have to show those wounds? Now Grandmother is heartbroken, Willow is in tears, and Mother is riddled with guilt.”

Before long, everyone in the room was fussing over Willow—offering her coffee, passing her medicine, soothing her with kind words.

And Athena? She stood there alone, forgotten, as if she were nothing more than a bystander.

But of course… she wasn’t a bystander. She was the cause. The reason for their guilt, their worry, their pain. The one to blame.