Gifts For The Sister

The deafening echo of Gideon's shout rang in Isolde's ears. He stood inches away, his handsome features twisted into a demanding sneer, attempting to physically and mentally force her into submission. Surrounded by this suffocating chorus of accusing voices and the hostile stares of Oakhaven City’s elite, Isolde felt the chilling, vivid echoes of her past life crash over her like an icy tidal wave.

It was the exact same oppressive atmosphere. The exact same faces looking at her as if she were a monster. The sensory overload brought back the agonizing moment she had uncovered the absolute truth about the girl weeping softly a few feet away. In her previous life, Isolde had found undeniable proof: Cecily was not a tragic, displaced orphan. She was the daughter of a sworn enemy, a venomous snake deliberately planted within their walls to destroy the Lockhart family from the inside out. Her grand plan was to tear them down piece by piece and eventually claim the Viceroy's estate.

Isolde remembered the sheer panic she had felt upon that discovery. She remembered running through the manor, desperate to warn her father, Darius, and her five brothers. She had laid the truth bare before them, expecting shock, expecting them to protect their bloodline.

Instead, they had met her with utter disgust.

Gideon had not just yelled; he had physically struck her, his heavy hand slapping her so hard she crumbled to the stone floor. He had called her vile, wicked, and irredeemable. In the tragic end of that life, when Cecily’s plan reached its climax, the Lockhart men had stood united. They had allowed Isolde to be slaughtered by their own hands, simply to protect Cecily’s fragile, manufactured facade. They declared they had no need for a daughter like her. Even on the day of her death, Cecily had stood there with a gleeful smile, gloating that the Lockhart brothers were more than willing to scatter Isolde's ashes to the wind just to keep Cecily happy.

Now, standing in this grand hall, cornered against a decorative pillar by Gideon and his academy friends, Isolde looked at these same faces. A cold, hollow smile touched her lips.

She would gladly give them the apology they demanded. But she knew this apology would be the very first step in sending Cecily straight to hell. She would watch them elevate this enemy's daughter, watch them blindly march toward their own graves, and she would ensure Cecily paid in blood.

"What is this?" Gideon sneered, taking her silence as defiance. He stepped closer, his voice dripping with cruelty. "Are you not sincere in your apology? Trying to brush things off by playing mute?"

Beside him, Sylvan let out an impatient breath. He looked at Isolde, offering no real protection. "Isolde, now that you understand your mistakes, just make amends. Apologize to Cecily properly and end this spectacle. We are family now."

Isolde shifted her gaze toward the head of the room. Darius sat in his seat of authority, observing the chaos with cold detachment. Not a single word of defense or moderation left his lips. He let his sons corner her. It was abundantly clear to Isolde that this was a public hunt, a calculated trial designed specifically to break her spirit in front of the entire city.

In her past life, she would have fallen right into this trap. She would have grown hysterical, screaming about the unfairness, defending herself against the false accusations of pushing Cecily at the artificial mountain, only to be dragged back to the freezing firewood shed to face death's door once again.

Not this time.

Instead of fighting back with fire, Isolde let her shoulders drop. She let out a soft sigh, lacing her breath with deep, resigned sorrow. She looked down for a brief second, then lifted her chin, speaking with perfect clarity that carried through the tense hall.

"Sorry, Cecily," Isolde began, her voice steady but steeped in regret. "These past few days in the firewood shed, I have been thinking about that day, and it feels like my heart is being torn apart."

She paused, letting the silence stretch before delivering the next carefully crafted line. "But Father has already said, there is no place for me to speak in this family. Next time, do not bring up decisions that have already been made by everyone, and do not go to dangerous places like the artificial mountain."

Isolde bowed her head slightly, mastering the picture of a defeated, penitent daughter. "But no matter what, this time, it is all my fault. Please, Cecily, forgive me."

The crowded room of noble guests instantly fell into a heavy, thoughtful silence. The aristocrats in attendance were not fools; they survived on reading between the lines. The underlying implications of Isolde's words rang crystal clear.

They began exchanging telling glances, the whispers igniting like dry brush.

"Wait a moment," a noblewoman muttered behind her feathered fan. "Why would a frail, delicate girl like Cecily brave the freezing cold to find Isolde at the artificial mountain?"

"Exactly," a nobleman chimed in, his brow furrowed. "Isolde was heartbroken because Lord Darius and the brothers brought Cecily into the family without a word to her. Isolde ran to the mountain to cry in isolation."

"If Cecily is so terrified of Isolde, why would she seek her out alone in such a dangerous, slippery place?" another guest reasoned aloud. "Unless her true intention was to gloat and cruelly twist the knife while Isolde was already hurting?"

The narrative shifted rapidly in the room. If Cecily had gone out of her way to provoke an already devastated girl on a snowy ledge, whether she slipped or was pushed, the fault lay squarely on Cecily's own malicious intentions.

The crowd's murmurs quickly turned their aim on Gideon.

"Lord Gideon," a sharp-eyed aristocrat called out from the back, publicly challenging him. "You were the one who loudly declared Isolde pushed Cecily down the mountain. Did you actually witness this alleged push yourself?"

Gideon froze, his aggressive posture faltering. "I—"

Before Gideon could spin a lie, one of his own classmates from the Parchment Academy spoke up in confusion. "How could he have seen it? Gideon was with me attending a lecture at the academy the entire afternoon that day!"

The noble consort, Genevieve, leaned forward from her plush seat, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "Lord Viceroy, is there not a single actual witness to this event?"

Darius stiffened in his chair. He looked at the weeping girl. "Cecily said..."

Panicking under the sudden, skeptical gaze of Darius and the whispering guests, Cecily realized the tide was turning against her. Her sweet, victimized facade was cracking. She immediately burst into dramatic, heavy tears.

"Father!" Cecily cried out, her voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. "Although it was snowing heavily that day and there were hardly any people around, Isolde's maid, Tilda, saw everything!"

But a flash of calculation crossed Cecily's tear-filled eyes. She knew Tilda Royce might crack under interrogation and reveal that Cecily had deliberately thrown herself backward to frame Isolde. Cecily quickly backtracked, raising her hands in a gesture of magnanimous forgiveness.

"But no matter what, I do not blame Isolde anymore!" Cecily sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "Let us just let this matter go. I only want to get along with Isolde. I do not want to cause any more trouble in this family."

Her practiced tears worked their magic instantly on the men who adored her.

Darius's lingering doubts melted away at the sight of her distress. He slammed his hand against the armrest and shot an angry, venomous look at his biological daughter. "You rebellious daughter! You pushed her, and now you stand here making sarcastic remarks and confusing our guests!"

Gideon, his face flushed red with the humiliation of being publicly exposed as a liar, aggressively closed the distance between him and Isolde. He pointed a threatening finger in her face.

"Isolde, I know you have a malicious heart, but I did not expect you to be so smooth with your twisted words!" Gideon snarled. "Who are you apologizing to? With that tone, people would think you are the victim! If you do not show real, tangible sincerity today, I will have Father throw you out of this family entirely!"

Sylvan frowned in deep disappointment. "Isolde, you promised me you would speak properly when you came here."

Cecily stood behind them, hiding a victorious smirk behind her handkerchief. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. As long as she played the pitiful victim, the Lockhart men’s blind guilt would always be her best weapon. Isolde stood no chance against their unified front.

Isolde let them finish their berating. She maintained an eerily calm demeanor, standing unaffected amidst their rage.

"You are all right," Isolde replied, her tone smooth and agreeable. "Just saying the words is not enough. It does seem insincere."

Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hands.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire grand hall, Isolde reached up to the nape of her neck. She unclasped the heavy, flawless ruby pendant resting against her collarbone. The gem caught the chandelier light, casting a blood-red reflection.

Next, she moved to her left wrist. She unhooked the clasp of the precious, rare warming gemstone bracelet.

Finally, she reached into her dark hair and pulled out an intricately carved, handmade silver hairpin.

She gathered the three priceless items in her palms and stepped toward Cecily. She held them out, her expression a mask of pure devotion.

"To show my ultimate sincerity, I am gifting these items to Cecily," Isolde declared, her voice ringing out so every guest could hear. "I pray they protect her."

The surrounding guests gasped audibly. The collective sharp intake of breath echoed through the hall. Everyone in Oakhaven City’s elite circle immediately recognized those items. They were Isolde's deeply sentimental coming-of-age gifts. The ruby pendant was a rare treasure from Darius. The warming gemstone was a costly prize won by Sylvan. The hairpin was meticulously handcrafted by Gideon himself.

They were the physical embodiments of the Lockhart family's love for their trueborn daughter.

Cecily stared at the pile of precious jewelry gleaming in Isolde's hands, completely paralyzed by the trap. If she accepted them, she would look like a greedy parasite stripping the rightful daughter of her family's affection.

The faces of the three Lockhart men darkened instantly.

Darius’s angry expression shifted into a severe, offended scowl.

Sylvan’s brow furrowed so deeply his face twisted with bitterness, his words stuck in his throat.

Gideon’s reaction was explosive. His rage was palpable, a seething fury that radiated from his tense frame. Seeing his most sentimental, lovingly crafted gift discarded so carelessly in public felt like a physical slap to his pride.

Gideon clenched his teeth, his face flushed dark with humiliation and fury. He glared at Isolde. "Isolde! What do I care about these things? If I had known it would come to this, I would have fed that hairpin to a dog instead of giving it to you!"

"Perfect!" Isolde beamed with an unsettling, bright enthusiasm. Her sudden, eager smile sent a chill through the room.

She stepped forward, aggressively pushing the discarded items toward a terrified Cecily. "Now, take them."

Cecily shrank back. The intense, furious gazes of her father and brothers were burning holes into her. She felt as though she were standing barefoot on hot coals. If she dared to accept these sentimental gifts now, Gideon would likely hate her for touching the hairpin he just compared to dog food.

Cecily frantically shook her head, her hands raised in refusal. She lowered her gaze, her voice stammering in panic.

"Isolde, these things are too valuable," Cecily pleaded, her breath hitching. "They carry Father's, Sylvan's, and Gideon's deep affection for you. It is impossible for me to accept them."

Isolde refused to let her back down. With perfectly executed pleading eyes, she pressed the attack. She took another step, cornering Cecily just as Gideon had cornered her moments ago.

"But Father, Sylvan, and Gideon are clearly willing to give them to you now," Isolde insisted, her voice dripping with an innocent, masterfully manipulative sincerity. "These are my gifts to you as an apology. You must take them."

Isolde trapped Cecily entirely, ensuring that no matter what Cecily chose, she would become the villain. Isolde pressed, her eyes perfectly pleading. "If you don't accept them, as Gideon said, I'll be kicked out of the Lockhart family. Do you want to see me sent away?"