Chapter 22: The Right Kind.
“What…?”
The meaning eludes her, and her smile freezes, lips still curved.
Her gaze, wavering with unease, searches for the intent behind the words but finds nothing, her brows drooping lower.
“I overheard some of your exchange just now. Including how you responded.”
“…?”
Her face shows she hasn’t grasped a thing, tilting her head in confusion.
She likely has no inkling of what’s coming.
Those eyes, staring straight at Violette, are strikingly like Claudia’s.
Her actions, rooted in her sense of justice, carry no trace of doubt—childlike, pure, and simple.
In a different position, such a character would be praised as truly good.
Raised with the righteous love of kind parents, she was nurtured as a person, not a noble lady.
“You need to refrain from such behavior in the future.”
“What… why, big sister…?”
“You’re a noble now. No matter what’s said to you, respond with composure.”
“Even you’re bringing up status…? That’s ridiculous—”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
Before she can bare her fangs, Violette cuts her off sharply, her tone firm and resolute.
What she’s about to say is a skill Maryjune must master moving forward.
Regardless of her values or personality, she needs to learn to smile and deflect on the surface.
Even as a mistress’s child, Maryjune’s blood is undeniably that of the Varhan ducal house.
With Violette unwilling to inherit, the Varhan legacy will fall to her.
She can’t keep acting like a commoner.
Understanding commoners as a noble is a valuable trait, but lowering herself to their level and empathizing as one is merely naive idealism.
“Know your place, Maryjune. You’re a lady of the Varhan house now. Every action carries responsibility—understand that.”
Whether Maryjune comprehends is uncertain.
She might resist, or worse, see Violette as no different from those girls.
The commoner’s view of status and the discernment nobles must uphold are entirely different, yet often confused.
“‘Understand’? What does that mean? Smiling at people who say such things—is that what a noble’s ‘understanding’ looks like?!”
Her anguished cry stirs old memories.
Being rebuffed when trying to persuade hurts more than any attack meant to wound.
If Maryjune doesn’t understand now, she’ll inevitably face this again.
Violette doesn’t have the emotional capacity to shield her every time.
To Violette, Maryjune is someone she’s vowed to atone for, not a sister to coddle.
The only solution is for Maryjune to change—to become a noble.
“If that’s the case, then you’re wrong too, big sister!”
Her desperate plea, as if begging Violette to understand, proves Maryjune’s genuine goodness.
She stands by others, corrects wrongs, and forgives mistakes—a rare quality.
It’s dizzying to think how opposite they are, sharing the same father.
Her straightforwardness carries no responsibility.
The reckless justice she’s wielded so far will eventually be crushed by the noble world.
“You’re right, Maryjune.”
Her words spark a smile, as if her beliefs have been validated, like a child reveling in justice’s triumph.
Her sparkling, unclouded smile reflects a world of beauty Violette will never know.
Maryjune is right, and Violette’s affirmation is sincere, but—
“—Then, does that make everything incompatible with you evil?”
No one decreed that justice is singular and absolute.