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Chapter 8. According to the Family Hierarchy
For reference, Makaila was currently thirty-one years old.
She was four years older than Aileen.
Yet she always made a point of calling Aileen “older sister,” deliberately acting younger than she really was.
Her true intentions were obvious.
She was inwardly ashamed of the fact that she was still unmarried and living in her parents’ home.
Of course, marriage was a matter of personal choice, and being unable to marry was not inherently a fault.
The problem was that Makaila desperately wanted to marry a prince on a white horse, like Cinderella.
And yet, she herself made absolutely no effort.
After driving away the few men who showed interest in her, she had reached the point where no marriage proposals came her way at all.
Makaila was desperately pretending to be childish in order to avoid facing that reality.
“Alright, alright. Go ahead and sit down.”
Sophia glanced cautiously at Hobsin before urging her daughter on.
Makaila slowly took a seat in the chair across from me.
Soon the appetizer plates were cleared away, and the main dish was served.
Perfectly grilled chicken, golden brown, accompanied by assorted vegetables.
Seeing the food piled high on a large platter, I swallowed hard.
“Now then… this is something the lady of the house should do, isn’t it?”
Sophia rose gracefully from her seat and began serving the main dish to the family.
She took a generous portion of a large drumstick and meat and served Hobsin first.
Then the remaining drumstick and chunks of meat went to Dervel.
“We should serve according to the family hierarchy. Especially in a distinguished family like ours. Right, dear?”
She did not forget to slip in some coquettish flattery toward Hobsin at just the right moment.
In any case, it was clear she was not someone to be taken lightly.
Makaila’s expression twisted as she watched.
“Tch… I like tender meat too.”
“Ahem.”
Before Hobsin could bark at her for her rude remark, Sophia hurried to placate her.
“Now, now. Chicken breast is actually the tastiest part.”
Placing chicken on her own plate, she quickly piled a generous portion onto Makaila’s as well.
And then, finally, she served me…
Well. I expected as much.
What lay on my plate was nothing but a bare chicken neck with no meat on it, and a single scrawny wing.
“Alright. Let’s eat.”
Hobsin spoke calmly.
Dervel and the others silently nodded.
Hobsin, Dervel—everyone in the Morgans family.
Despite seeing this situation unfold, not a single one of them said a word.
After all, no matter how vicious Sophia was, she could not have tormented her daughter-in-law so cruelly without the tacit indifference of her husband and son.
Aileen.
I lamented inwardly.
In the midst of such cold, desolate meals, under such open contempt and discrimination—
What kind of feelings had you lived with, day after day?
Once Hobsin put chicken into his mouth, the others slowly lifted their silverware as well.
And while the entire in-law family busied themselves stuffing chicken into their mouths—
Clang—!
I deliberately set my silver spoon down on the table with a loud sound.
“What do you think you’re doing?! How dare you behave like that during a meal!”
As expected,
Hobsin’s thunderous shout came down immediately.
But instead of shrinking back, I smiled sweetly and spoke to him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Father. I had to stop it in a hurry before touching it.”
“What? What do you mean by—”
While Hobsin was still confused, I swiftly pulled Makaila’s plate toward me.
“Ah…?”
She froze mid-motion, just about to cut her chicken with her knife and fork, her mouth falling open in shock.
“You—what do you think you’re doing?”
Sophia asked, aghast and incredulous.
But I answered shamelessly, as if it were obvious.
“Oh, I think Mother may have mixed up the plates.”
As I spoke, I naturally pushed the plate that held only the chicken neck and wing toward Makaila.
“What? You little—!”
Just as she was about to spit out something nasty, Makaila quickly glanced at Hobsin and softened her tone slightly.
“What on earth are you talking about?!”
“But Mother said it herself.”
I widened my eyes and replied as if I truly didn’t understand.
“That we should serve according to the family hierarchy.”
I added pointedly,
“Especially in a distinguished family like the Morgans.”
At my words, everyone’s expressions darkened, as though I had poked at a shared sore spot.
Watching them, I sneered inwardly.
Hmph. So you know it too.
“Distinguished,” my foot.
As the saying goes, empty cans make the most noise.
There was a reason the Morgans family was looked down upon by other nobles as nouveau riche.
Hobsin’s father had originally been a wealthy merchant of common birth.
He married the daughter of a poor baronial family and quite literally bought a noble title.
But by Hobsin’s generation, even what little wealth remained had been squandered, and they were unable to escape the fate of a paltry noble house.
Then, ten years ago, due to the Empress’s sudden special appointment, the Morgans family was elevated to the rank of count.
The abrupt development left everyone puzzled.
Why would the Empress promote a baronial house that had accomplished nothing?
Even when reading the original story, it had felt forced and difficult to understand.
In any case, that was why Hobsin clung so fiercely to appearances and behaved in such a patriarchal manner.
It was all to conceal the fact that his family had no real pedigree.
“How dare you bring up our family’s lineage?! What does that have to do with switching plates?!”
He waved around the hollow shield of his count’s title.
Honestly, this family’s defining trait is low self-esteem paired with sky-high pride.
Still, openly defying him right now was not a wise choice.
It was not yet time.
“Well… although I am younger than Miss Makaila, when it comes to rank, I am clearly her superior.”
Unlike the upstart Morgans family, Aileen’s natal family, the Kettel baronial house, was a very old and established lineage.
That sense of inferiority likely played a role in why they treated Aileen with such contempt.
Feigning genuine confusion, I added carefully, my face innocent,
“So if we’re really going to set the family order straight, I thought it only right that I receive the fourth plate that was served, Father.”
Having grown up in a truly noble household, this felt perfectly natural to me.
Perhaps sensing that, Hobsin’s previously furious expression softened slightly.
“…I see. Well, considering our family’s dignity, that does make sense.”
At that, Makaila, who had been glaring at the plate taken from her, shrieked in a shrill voice.
“Oh my, Sister. You should lose some weight. Don’t you know that a woman’s virtue lies in eating sparingly, like a bird?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
Anyone could see that Aileen was already thin.
Even the wrist holding her fork looked so slender it might snap.
Feeling stung by my gaze, she screeched,
“Why are you looking at me like that?! I wasn’t going to eat bread anyway—only meat!”
Who said anything?
It seemed that her pretense of childishness had actually regressed her thinking back to infancy.
At her rude behavior, Hobsin’s wrath flared once more.
“I even overlooked the fact that you were late to the table… How on earth are you raising the children?!”
And naturally, the blame flew straight to Sophia.
Sophia, who had been glaring at me as if she wanted to kill me, hurriedly tried to placate Makaila.
“There, there, my Maki. Mother will give you some meat. Calm down.”
“Good grief. Tsk, tsk… You’re going to be the death of me.”
The already chilly dining atmosphere turned even more vicious.
But regardless of what the Morgans family did, I focused on my meal.
If I don’t eat, I’m the only one who loses.
As I ate heartily, Hobsin, who had been watching me, suddenly spoke.
“You’re eating very well today. That’s unusual.”
Normally, I couldn’t eat much because I was too busy watching Sophia’s mood.
Instead of saying that, I smiled brightly and replied,
“Yes, the food is delicious. And it’s all thanks to your hard work, Father, that we can enjoy such a fine meal!”
At that, the corner of Hobsin’s mouth twitched.
He was barely holding back a satisfied smile.
Clearing his throat a few times, he asked,
“Hm. Well. Are you treating your injuries properly?”
So he finally asked.
I’ve been waiting for you to say that.
I quickly swallowed the meat in my mouth and replied in a dejected tone,
“Well… the physician said it looks like a large scar may remain on my face.”
At my words, everyone at the table frowned at once.
“A scar will remain?”
“On her forehead, of all places… What will people think when they see that?”
Of course, they weren’t worried about me—they were worried about being criticized by others.
Someone was injured and might be scarred, yet all they cared about was their own reputation.
Truly ignorant and heartless people.
Watching them, I added in a subtle tone—
The very reason I had deliberately wrapped my head in bandages today.
“…But the physician said that if I receive treatment at a large medical center in the city, the scar might not remain.”
It was, after all, to secure an opportunity to go out.
