A Young Lady Who Has Had Everything Exploited By Her Sickly Younger Sister Will Not Let Anyone Take Anything From Her Anymore - Chapter 10

Colette couldn’t forgive her parents because they wouldn’t admit their mistakes. At first, they left her alone, but soon they started forcing her to sit at the dining table, offering rushed excuses. Their silent plea was clear: “Just accept the situation and forgive us.”

However, Colette had lost all desire to eat. She had grown pale and frail, and the untouched lavish meals only seemed to frustrate her parents more. Eventually, their patience ran out, and their anger surfaced.

“Yeah, you’ll eat that, and then you’ll get back to managing the estate’s affairs, do you understand?!”

“And you’ll go check on Liliane like always and apologize properly this time! She’s been so depressed because of you!”

“…”

Colette silently slammed her palm onto the table and stood up abruptly. The heavy silverware, weighed down with overly rich food, crashed noisily.

“W-what is the meaning of this?!”

“At least respond when spoken to!”

Without a word, Colette met their gaze with an icy, rebellious stare. Then, she turned sharply and walked away.

Collapsing face-down onto her bed, she bit back her frustration, her pain, and her helpless rage.
She told herself that crying because of those people would mean defeat.
And yet this time—this time—no matter how hard she tried, the tears wouldn’t stop.

(This house… it’s finished. I can’t bear this anymore—enough is enough!)

For the first time, Colette felt a fierce desire to cast aside everything and escape this place forever.

Shut away in her room, refusing to eat, she gazed blankly out the window day after day.
Her parents’ voices, loud, angry, and sharp, always echoed through the walls and reached her ears.

“The paperwork’s piling up! Do something about it!”

“We have to stay by Lilianne’s side, so you go and inspect the estate in our place!”

Work that rightfully belonged to them was now being handed off to her as if it were nothing.

(Enough… I can’t take this anymore…!)

Her only act of resistance was to ignore the documents mounting before her eyes.
Perhaps even her parents felt some vague sense of guilt over the recent incident.
They had not raised their hands against her—not yet. But each day, they left her with thinly veiled indirect threats:

“If you don’t have it done by tomorrow, you’ll regret it. Understand?!”

Then they would leave her room with a slam.

More and more, Colette found herself thinking, If only I could die like this… how peaceful that would be.

She had grown so utterly worn down that even such thoughts felt like a quiet comfort.

Two weeks had gone by since that disastrous party. In the last few days, the constant reprimands from her parents had suddenly stopped—a silence that made Colette uneasy. ── Knock, knock.

There was a gentle, unusually hesitant knock at her door. When Colette remained silent, the maid outside sighed audibly before announcing, “Lord Dion has come to see you.”

(Now, after all this time? What could he want…? An explanation, perhaps?)

A small spark of hope flickered in her chest. She sat up straight, running a brush through her hair with effortless precision. She had long since learned to take care of herself—observing, memorizing, choosing independence over the humiliation of forced assistance. It was simpler this way—less painful, less demeaning.

Colette walked slowly, her steps unsteady, as she left her room and headed for the guest salon. But when she arrived, the room was empty. Behind her, the maids giggled quietly, their laughter sending a chill down her spine. She shot them a sharp, cold glare, making one of them stammer.

“Th-this way, my lady.”

To her confusion, they led her not to the salon but to the door of Lilianne’s room.

At the knock, she heard the faint sound of sniffles, followed by a sorrowful, trembling,

“Come in…”

Colette felt a heavy chill in her chest. Fear gripped her as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. There sat Lilianne; her eyes were swollen from crying, and her small body was trembling. Beside her, offering quiet comfort, was Dion

“Sister Colette, how could you be so cruel…!”

Lilianne wiped her puffy eyes with a lace handkerchief, her voice trembling with practiced sorrow. Colette remained silent, watching the scene unfold.

“Even if you hate me, you didn’t have to do this to me…”

“…”

With those words—and with Dion sitting loyally beside Lilianne—the faint hope Colette had held onto shattered completely. Her expression was unreadable as she stared at them both.

(So they’re blaming me for this mess…)

Lilianne was clearly determined to shift all the disgrace onto her—and Dion, fully aware of what happened, still chose to take her side.

Dion’s face carried that same familiar expression—one that seemed to say, “I’m not to blame.” Colette felt beyond frustration, too exhausted even to sigh.

“Father, Mother, and Lord Dion—they all said how deeply disappointed they are in you, Sister Colette!”