"Nyx."
Edmund’s stern voice cut through the silence, she looked at him. His expression had hardened. Nyx, however, simply smiled.
She had spent years carefully watching every expression on her father’s face, trying to determine whether he was angry, disappointed, pleased, or simply indifferent. She had spent even longer trying to earn his approval. Now, standing in front of him with a fractured arm and memories of three years of apocalypse behind her, she suddenly realized how utterly worthless his opinion was.
She stopped a short distance from him.
"Father."
Edmund’s gaze dropped to the sling supporting her injured arm before returning to her face.
"What happened to your arm?"
"Broken." Nyx’s smile remained. "I’m sure you know what your darling daughter did to me. Camilla would have explained it to you in a very... simple manner. She probably mentioned it offhandedly, making it sound as though it were nothing."
She glanced down at her injured arm before looking back at him. "Pushing someone down a flight of stairs isn’t exactly nothing, is it, Father?"
The dining room immediately fell silent.
Livia’s expression changed. The pleasant look she had been wearing disappeared as she glared at Nyx with undisguised hatred.
"It wasn’t like that, Nyx! Stop exaggerating. You tripped and fell."
Nyx slowly turned her gaze toward her. Placing the fingers of her uninjured hand on the table, she idly traced the rim of a crystal glass while maintaining a faint smile.
"I’m trying to decide whether you’re genuinely incapable of owning up to what you did, or if you simply believe lying will rewrite reality," Nyx said smoothly. "Either way, it’s embarrassing."
Livia’s face tightened.
"You pushed me down a flight of stairs, and now you’re sitting there pretending I tripped," Nyx continued, her voice entirely calm. "Which is a lie, Livia. A remarkably transparent one."
She tilted her head slightly.
"But don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you. You’ve always been foolish and reckless, and honesty has never been one of your stronger qualities either."
"Nyx, that is enough. Livia already explained that it was an accident."
Nyx looked directly at Camilla, her face unreadable. "Did I ask you?"
Camilla froze.
For a moment, no one moved.
Nyx didn’t even bother breaking eye contact. "You have a bad habit of answering questions that weren’t directed at you."
Camilla’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Livia’s face flushed green with frustration, but she forced a sweet, sickly smile onto her face as though the exchange had never happened. "What, Nyx? Are you mad? You shouldn’t be. I really didn’t mean it, and besides, nothing serious happened. It is exactly as Mum told Dad. Nothing."
Nyx ignored her completely, shifting her gaze back to Edmund.
"If I had hit my head instead of breaking my arm, we’d be having a very different conversation right now." Her voice remained even. "By the way, I was in the hospital for the whole day yesterday. Though I don’t think you give a damn, right?"
Edmund’s brow furrowed. "Watch your language, Nyx. Livia said you were being difficult and turned to walk away when she tried to pull you back, causing you to lose your balance."
Nyx let out a soft, dry chuckle. "Did she now?"
She looked back at Livia. "I suppose her story sounded very convincing. Then again, when has it ever not? She’s had years of practice."
Livia’s jaw clenched.
Nyx returned her focus to Edmund. "I don’t care if you believe me or her. But if I had landed on my neck instead of my shoulder, your precious daughter would be facing a manslaughter charge."
Livia’s fingers tightened around her fork until her knuckles turned white. "Nyx, are you fucking crazy?"
Nyx looked at her. There was no anger in her eyes—only cold contempt and disgust.
"Shut up."
The single word cut through the room, and coupled with her expression, Livia instantly fell silent.
Nyx turned back to Edmund. "So tell me, Father. If your precious daughter had actually killed me, would you still be calling it an accident?"
No one answered.
Nyx’s smile vanished.
She hadn’t come back to the Arden mansion to argue about Livia. She had more important things to deal with, and wasting another minute trying to force these people to acknowledge their cruelty was a waste of time.
"I want my mother’s belongings."
Edmund’s eyes narrowed. "Your mother’s?"
"Yes."
"Why do you suddenly care about those things after all these years?"
There it is.
The question Nyx had expected.
She studied him carefully. Even after all this time, Edmund still reacted differently whenever her mother’s assets were mentioned. His expression had changed quickly and his voice had hardened noticeably.
That confirmed one thing.
There really was something worth knowing.
Nyx rested her good hand lightly against the back of a dining chair. "Because she was my mother. Why would I need your permission to want what’s hers?"
Edmund’s expression tightened.
"They have been kept safely all these years."
"Then tell me where they are."
"Nyx."
His tone carried the warning she remembered so well.
It was the same tone he had used countless times throughout her childhood. The tone that had once been enough to make her fall silent, lower her head, and reconsider every word she had been about to say.
Nyx looked directly into his eyes.
"Edmund."
Not Father.
Just his name.
Edmund’s posture broke for a fraction of a second, shock flashing through his features.
Nyx held his gaze without flinching.
She had learned a great deal during the three years she had spent surviving the apocalypse. One of those lessons was that people only had power over you when you continued to give it to them.
She had given Edmund enough.
She had spent a lifetime walking on eggshells around this man—careful with her tone, careful with her posture, careful with every word she uttered because she had truly believed that if she was quiet enough, worked hard enough, and never caused trouble, she might one day earn the affection she had craved as a child.
Now, looking at him, she felt nothing.
Not anger. Not disappointment.
Only a faint sense of absurdity.
~•~
Next Chapter mini theater:
Edmund: [Slams table] "I demand respect!"
Nyx: "And I demand my inheritance and a fat bank transfer. We both can’t get what we want, Edmund."
Livia: [Gasping in the background, losing her mind]