Chapter 115 - Hundred And Fifteen

Words : 1023 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

The dining room of the Carson estate, which moments before had been filled with warmth and laughter, was now as cold and silent as a graveyard. The announcement of Philip and Anne’s courtship hung in the air, a shocking and unwelcome piece of news. The Dowager Duchess Elena was the first to break the silence. She fixed her eldest grandson with a sharp, disappointed stare. " Philip, what is the meaning of this, how is it," she asked, her voice dangerously quiet, "that you have suddenly become so infatuated with your new in-law?" Philip put on a calm, reasonable expression. "Oh, Grandmother, it was a matter of chance," he replied, his voice smooth as oil. "She was about to be assaulted by a madman at an establishment I frequent. I simply happened to be there on time and was able to save her. It was only later, after we had spoken and gotten acquainted, that I found out she was Lady Delia’s younger sister." He looked around the table, a picture of honorable intentions. "Had we known of the connection sooner, we wouldn’t have even thought of courting, of course. It would be too complicated." Anne, sensing her cue, added with a soft, romantic sigh, "But... the heart wants what it wants, does it not, Your Grace? It’s difficult to stop the heart from feeling what it wants to feel for a person." Amber, who had been sitting in stunned, disgusted silence, could not hold it in anymore. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. "Wait Anne. Hold on a moment," she said, her eyes blazing with anger as she stared at Anne. "So, what you are saying is, ’Is it a sin to love both of the Carson brothers?’ First you throw yourself at Eric, and when that fails, you immediately move on to Philip? Don’t you know how disgusting your statement sounds?" "What do you mean by that?" Anne asked, her face a mask of polite, wounded innocence. "You think I don’t know your type?" Amber replied, her voice full of scorn. "I know how flirty and men-crazed you and your friends are. I have heard the stories. But bringing that desperate, despicable behavior into my family is something I will not sit by and watch happen." "Amber!" Elena spoke, her voice a sharp command. "Do not talk like that at the table." "But Grandmother, she is the one who started it!" Amber replied, pointing an accusing finger at Anne. "She is the one saying those nonsensical things first!" Lyra, who had been sitting in a state of pale, silent shock, finally found her voice. "Amber, listen to your grandmother," she said, her tone weary. "It is enough. If you go low just because they are going low, then you are no better than they are." Amber glared at Anne one last time before finally sitting back down, her displeasure clear on her face. Elena then turned her piercing gaze back to Philip. "So, you really like this lady?" she asked, her voice full of a deep skepticism. "Why?" Philip looked at Anne with an expression of profound tenderness, a look that was entirely for show. "Because she likes me," he answered simply. Elena shot him a confused look. "Because she likes you? Is that the only reason?" "For me, that is enough," Philip responded, his voice now laced with a deep, false self-pity. "It might be the only chance at real affection I will have in my entire lifetime. It makes me sad, Grandmother, to hear you not taking it seriously." He then looked across the table, his gaze landing on his brother. "Not everyone can be as beloved by women as Eric is." Eric, who had been silently eating his meal, stopped, his fork hovering in mid-air as he heard his name. Philip gently tapped his injured leg with his fingers. "It is painful, you know," he continued, his voice now a low, tragic murmur. "That an accident that was caused by someone else should deprive me of the chance for love. But now, I have finally found someone who sees past my injury, and I must keep her." He was intentionally hitting Eric where it hurt the most, twisting the knife of their shared past in front of the entire family. "I guess that is my reality," he finished with a sad, final sigh. Eric finally spoke, his voice dangerously calm. "How could you see your reality, Philip, when you are still blaming me for a leg that you hurt yourself when we were little children playing a game that led to an accident? You were hurt physically and I was hurt mentally. We were both involved in that accident so why do you still blame me?" Philip looked at him, a flicker of real anger in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?" Eric repeated the words Philip had just used, his voice full of a cold, mocking pity. "’I am going to marry her because this woman likes me.’" He chuckled, a short, humorless sound. "You are putting all of the responsibility for your happiness on another person. Just like you have always put all of the responsibility for your accident on me." "Eric," Philip warned, his voice a low growl. "I do not want to raise my voice in front of the family." He began to walk towards Eric’s seat, his movements stiff and angry. Eric stood up, turned, and faced him, the two brothers now standing eye to eye in the tense, silent dining room. He looked at Anne, who was now standing beside Philip, a smirk on her face, and then back at his brother. "Then why did you create a scene like this in the first place? I don’t believe a word you’ve said." Philip’s grip on the silver head of his cane tightened, his knuckles turning white. Unable to contain his rage any longer, he threw his cane on the floor with a loud clatter and grabbed the front of Eric’s collar. "You bastard," he snarled, his face just inches from his brother’s.

Chapter 115 - Hundred And Fifteen

Comments (0)