Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 68
It was Iora who spoke first, swirling the water in her glass and taking a long drink.
“Before resorting to violence, why don’t we have a conversation? Father, what you desire is not for me to become a saint, but to become the wife of the Crown Prince, isn’t it?”
“Do you not know that they mean the same thing, you fool?”
“Not necessarily. Those two titles don’t have to belong to the same person.”
“If you can’t become a saint, you’ll naturally lose your position as the Crown Prince’s betrothed! So, how can it be any different?”
“What if I’m neither the Crown Princess nor a saint? Does that mean I’m worth nothing?”
“I can’t believe you’re whining like a child, with all the money we’ve poured into you. What can you possibly achieve with such a careless mindset?”
Family influence. Honor. Prestige. All in the service of satisfying greed. That greed alone killed her.
Iora released the last thread she was holding onto. There was no hesitation now. Venom began to ignite in her violet eyes. A person who allowed his daughter to die without any remorse, without any guilt. The one who always saw Arcanda as the better girl.
‘The expectations and hopes I had for my father that I couldn’t let go of were the Iora of the past, not the person I am today.’
How many past Ioras who died unjustly had put their hopes in this man?
Her father seemed taken aback as he was confronted by her searing eyes. Nevertheless, he broke off the confrontation, lips sealing in what would have been his wounded pride, and spoke in a fierce voice.
“You seem to be in a strange state since waking up a few days ago, but you should know your place. Where did you learn such disrespectful behavior towards your parents? If you behave like this outside, how can I trust you with the family’s honor!”
“If you can’t trust me, then don’t.”
“…What did you say?”
Ordinary parents would typically show and teach their debutante children how to behave at such events, emphasizing the significance of the day, offering blessings, greetings, and expectations. Discussions might revolve around preferred dresses, jewelry, and even the possibility of notable suitors.
But what about their past? Memories of those cold and harsh conversations flashed through Iora’s mind.
‘Wear the dress that the Crown Prince likes. No matter what it takes, don’t be overshadowed by Arcanda. Keep the Crown Prince’s attention on you at all costs.’
‘Once you share a bed, things will change. Even if you have to use your body, seduce him.’
‘Don’t make a scene. I don’t want to admit that I gave birth to you.’
Iora smiled sardonically and set down the glass. The tip of the glass clinked sharply against the knife lying on the table.
“Father, if you so desperately want this family to have a Crown Princess, you should offer up yourself.”
Someone gasped, but Iora remained calm and nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, not sure why everyone was reacting this way.
“This lunatic has completely lost it…”
“Yes, Father. Have I really gone mad?”
“Hah!”
“Yes, I have. Absolutely, I’ve gone mad. What exactly do you want? Should I study hard and make efforts as a saint candidate, or do you want me to sneak into the prince’s bedroom undressed? Oh, how pathetic, Father. If you want to marry into the royal family so badly, why don’t you do it yourself?”
She poured out her words before she had time to think about it. She glared at each family member, eyes filled with determination, forcefully delivering the words she had always wanted to say. With a steely focus, she continued.
“Oh, you’re getting old! In that case, why not marry off my brother? Since you keep saying I’m so miserable, introduce my clever and polished brother to the prince. Who knows? Maybe with the hidden charms my brother possesses, he could captivate the prince even more than I can. Wouldn’t he be better than me?”
“You, you, you! How dare you say such things!”
A physical altercation seemed poised to erupt at any moment, but no one made a move.
That’s right. Iora, with a haughty and lazy smile, flicked her fingertips. It felt as if her words were intricately woven like a net, tightly entwining them. Each spoken word seemed to strike their minds like an ax, and whether it would become their future remorse depended on their character…
‘For now, they won’t dare to touch me.’
With a satisfied sound, Iora gracefully rose from her seat.
“The taste of the meal has gone sour. I’ll get up first, so please enjoy your meal.”
She had experienced it to the point of being sick of it—the human nature of figures like her father. When she was Kim Jiyeon, she had encountered all sorts of hidden truths. So she vaguely understood the actions of such people. They wouldn’t make a peep in front of someone who was brave and crazy enough to fight back. But when faced with a weaker opponent, they wouldn’t even think twice about pouncing on that person like a cat with a cornered mouse.
Originally, to strike at a group, you had to target the leader. The leader of this house was her father. As long as she had her father pinned down, the maids, servants, her brother, and even her mother wouldn’t directly oppress her. By openly challenging his authority, she made sure they couldn’t act against her so freely.
A sardonic laugh escaped her. It was so unfair that Iora had stubbornly put up with something that could have been changed with just one argument. Tears welled up as she wondered why she had persistently endured it. Her fingers trembled and her breathing turned ragged—it was like her body wasn’t used to this kind of rebellious spirit.
