Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 89
The Antares family had always preferred living in the capital over their countryside estate. Freesia would have shuddered at the invitation, but she had never even been to their original estate.
Because of this, the Antares family’s residence in the capital was several times more splendid than Arcturus’ or other families who valued their ancestral homes more. The large mansion with its reddish-brick walls and contrasting blue roofs boasted a lavish garden, where male peacocks strutted among various flowering trees.
Also, while official banquets usually started in the early evening, Antares’ parties were known to start spiritedly earlier. Judging by the boisterous laughter and music coming from inside and, considering the expensive spices-loaded wine bottles carried around since late afternoon, there was no doubt about it.
Upon hearing that the son-in-law’s family had arrived, the head of the household also came out to personally greet them.
“Duke Arcturus, welcome.”
“It’s been a while, Duke Antares.”
While the former awkwardly pretended brightness, the latter’s voice was incomparably cold.
Duke Antares was noticeably shorter than his son-in-law and seemed somewhat servile-looking, thanks to his mustache.
And Duke Antares awkwardly rolled his eyes upon seeing Freesia standing a step behind Izar. His reluctance to greet her without ignoring the onlooking eyes was a testament to his cowardice.
“Ahem, Freesia. Have you settled well in the dukedom?”
“Thanks to your concern, I have been at peace. Your Grace, may you also have been blessed by Adamant.”
She dared not mention ‘father’, in case she was dragged off to the ‘storage room’ again. However, Freesia glanced sideways at Duke Antares, who was avoiding her eyes.
‘I really can’t stand this man.’
Despite being the worst man who abandoned her mother… why didn’t she feel any sort of blood connection to him, supposing that half of her was formed from him?
‘Perhaps such fateful feelings are just the exaggerations of poets.’
Yet, as much as Freesia tried to remain indifferent, her face stiffened when the women standing behind Duke Antares stepped forward.
Duchess Antares, with lush black hair not marred by a single strand of white, looked stunningly smooth-faced, almost like an older sister of her own daughter, her gaze from dark, narrow eyes unfathomable.
“Freesia, it’s been a long time.”
And there stood Atria, smiling upturned next to her mother.
“…Sister. To think you’ve been up in the capital and haven’t reached out, don’t you know how hurtful that might be?”
Tall, with a figure gracefully accentuated by a blue silk dress, she looked ridiculously fitting. Her radiant blonde hair, pinned up with diamond ornaments, was a sight that people would insist be preserved in tapestries or paintings.
‘Sorry, Thea.’
The maid waiting in the garden would lament that dressing her up had been in vain.
But more twisting to Freesia’s guts than that confident appearance was the sultry smile Atria gave Izar.
“Duke, you’ve come up to the capital and haven’t said a word?”
“We’d have seen each other when the time comes, Your Ladyship.”
And Izar was loathe to deal even formally with Atria.
Atria, originally the only daughter of this distinguished ducal family in the capital, and now the highest unmarried woman of status with no queen or princess around, could not be addressed casually.
The real match meant for the Duke of Arcturus.
Perhaps because of that, even if only for a brief moment, Freesia disliked standing there between them.
Unlike her sister, who was of true nobility, the way he treated her stood in stark contrast.
‘Differently from how he speaks to me….’
Perhaps it was a habit left over from how he dealt with his subjects? Izar always used a high-handed tone with Freesia.
Feeling the inferiority creeping up from the soles of my feet, Freesia forcibly shook her head inwardly.
‘There are things people can’t easily change, like their tone of voice.’
If you don’t understand, it just becomes miserably unnecessary. However, a feeling of being let down kept proudly rearing its head.
‘Couldn’t he have at least held my hand as a gesture of courtesy?’
For a moment, as if her mind had gone strange, she thought about grabbing Izar’s sleeve. She sneakily glanced at his profile and hand, but there seemed no gap for her hand to slip through.
As they headed into the banquet hall, a suffocating display of wealth was evident everywhere one would look.
First, what caught everyone’s eyes were the towers of ‘fake fruit’ that sparkled white like tiny beads of snow.
They were pieces made by hardening sugar. It was a feast of luxury using sugar, which Freesia had never once tasted during her days as a shepherdess.
‘I was even shocked to hear that they weren’t meant to be eaten.’
Perhaps someone might sneakily take a bite.
Rare glassware sparkled dreamily in the light, and the air was tinged with the sharp scent of precious spices.
People born into this world took all this for granted and handled it elegantly.
In contrast, even on her second life, she felt like refuse out of place in this space…
“Ah…!”
But if there was one thing Freesia hadn’t anticipated this time, it was the appearance of familiar faces.
‘The Deneb family is also here!’
