Chapter 6: Hypocrisy.

Chapter 6

Lilith’s body trembled violently against the forest floor as the last echoes of pain faded unevenly through her limbs. Her breath came in broken pulls while her mind struggled to understand what had just happened to her. Fear clung to every inch of her expression now, raw and unmistakable, her eyes locked onto Sigrid as though she were staring at something no longer human.

"What did you do to me, you witch?" Lilith spat, though the insult lacked any real venom. The words dissolved halfway into a shaky laugh that sounded painfully close to hysteria. Her head shook repeatedly as if denying reality itself could somehow undo the agony she had just experienced. "What even are you? How are you doing this? This is not normal. This is not possible."

Sigrid remained still.

There was no irritation on her face. No outrage. No visible pleasure either. The calmness in her expression felt far crueler than anger would have. She simply watched Lilith quietly, crimson eyes unwavering beneath the shadows cast by the trees above them.

The silence stretched long enough for Lilith’s breathing to become uneven again.

Then she laughed. The sound was louder this time, but hollow, sharp around the edges like glass threatening to crack apart at any moment. It was the laugh of someone cornered beyond reason, someone whose fear had nowhere left to go except madness.

"So what now?" Lilith asked bitterly, forcing mockery into her trembling voice like brittle armor. "You are going to keep me like some kind of pet? Is that it? You think I will just kneel because you made me suffer for a moment?"

Sigrid tilted her head slightly.

"That knowledge does not belong to you," she replied calmly. Her voice carried the same measured elegance it always had, yet somehow it sounded colder now, stripped of the timid softness she once forced upon herself before knowing the cruelty of the world. "The only truth you are required to understand is that from this moment onward, you belong to me."

The words struck harder than the pain itself.

Lilith’s laughter vanished instantly.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Terror spread visibly across her face as the meaning settled inside her chest. Sigrid had not spoken like someone making threats. She had spoken with certainty. Ownership. Finality.

Lilith’s body began trembling harder.

"No," she whispered weakly, shaking her head over and over again. "No... no, I do not belong to you. I do not belong to anyone."

Her breathing became frantic. Tears gathered rapidly in her eyes as panic swallowed whatever composure she had left. She stared at Sigrid desperately, hoping for hesitation, for doubt, for anything human enough to reassure her that this was only intimidation.

But Sigrid’s expression never changed and that frightened Lilith more than anything else.

The maid’s strength finally gave out beneath the weight of her terror. Her vision blurred violently before her body suddenly went limp, collapsing against the forest floor unconscious and unmoving.

Silence settled over the clearing once more.

Only the rustling leaves overhead disturbed the stillness.

Sigrid exhaled softly through her nose, not quite annoyed but mildly inconvenienced. She glanced down at Lilith’s unconscious form before slowly straightening herself upright. Her gaze drifted briefly toward the deeper parts of the forest surrounding them, noting how much farther they had traveled than intended.

The trees had grown denser here. The road was barely visible anymore beneath the heavy brush and uneven roots. Fortunately, sunlight still filtered through the branches overhead in streaks of pale gold.

At least it was still afternoon.

"It appears we strayed farther into the woods than I intended," Sigrid murmured quietly to herself.

Her eyes returned to Lilith.

For several seconds she simply stared down at the unconscious maid before giving a low grunt of resignation. Then she bent down without ceremony and lifted Lilith into her arms.

The weight barely bothered her.

Years of surviving a life far crueler than this one had hardened her body long ago. Even after returning to the past, those instincts remained carved deeply into muscle and bone.

Without another pause, Sigrid began walking back toward the Beaufort estate.

The forest path stretched quietly before her as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The gift Judgment sight was not simply punishment. It was authority given form. The power itself responded to guilt, intent, betrayal. It acted almost like a living extension of her will.

Dangerous, useful and terrifying.

Sigrid found herself smiling faintly at the thought.

Then another memory surfaced.

Today was the day her father returned from the capital alongside Duchess Genevieve and Maria after purchasing gowns and decorations for the upcoming royal ball at the castle. They had left her behind without discussion, without invitation, assuming as always that Sigrid would remain quietly locked away inside her isolated corner of the estate.

Once, that realization might have hurt.

Once, she might have waited near the windows hoping someone would remember to ask her along.

Now the thought only amused her.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips as she continued down the forest path carrying Lilith effortlessly in her arms.

How small those wounds felt now compared to everything else.

By the time the manor finally came into view, the afternoon sun had already begun softening into evening gold. Long shadows stretched across the courtyard stones as Sigrid approached the estate from the front entrance rather than the servants’ quarters.

The reaction was immediate.

Servants froze mid-step the moment they saw her. Several maids stared openly in shock at the sight of the young lady covered lightly in dirt while carrying an unconscious servant through the main courtyard as though it were perfectly ordinary. Guards exchanged uncertain glances while others quickly lowered their heads out of instinctive discomfort.

And then there were the others.

The servants involved in her attempted kidnapping.

Sigrid noticed the fear on their faces instantly.

Good. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as their expressions paled beneath her gaze. She would deal with them later.

One of the guards hurried forward immediately and opened the manor doors for her without question. His movements were rigid, almost nervous.

Sigrid walked inside calmly.

The moment she entered the sitting room, conversation stopped entirely.

Her father rose first. Maria stood immediately after him, eyes widening in visible shock. Beside them, Duchess Genevieve lifted her fan toward her face almost instinctively, her expression twisting into thinly veiled disgust as though merely looking at Sigrid’s current state offended the air around her.

Sigrid ignored all of them.

Without slowing her pace, she approached two nearby maids and shifted Lilith carefully into their arms.

"Take her away and see that her injuries are properly treated," Sigrid instructed evenly. "Should her condition worsen through negligence, I shall hold the both of you accountable."

The maids stiffened instantly. "Y-Yes, Lady Sigrid."

Sigrid gave a small nod before turning away entirely.

She had no interest in speaking further.

Unfortunately, her father clearly disagreed.

"Sigrid Thea Beaufort, remain where you stand this instant."

The Duke’s voice rang sharply through the room with enough force to halt every servant nearby.

Sigrid clicked her tongue softly beneath her breath before finally stopping.

Then she turned.

For the first time since entering the manor, she looked directly at her father.

The Duke visibly flinched, only slightly though.

But enough for Sigrid to notice.

"What precisely is the meaning of this?" he demanded, irritation hardening his expression. "Your mother, your sister, and I have awaited your presence for quite some time."

"Step mother and step sister," Sigrid corrected immediately.

The room fell still.

Duchess Genevieve’s eyes twitched sharply behind her fan, though she restrained herself from speaking. The Duke’s jaw tightened visibly as annoyance flickered across his face.

"They are your family because I decree them to be so," he replied sternly. "And by what audacity do you keep this household waiting only to return in such a disgraceful state while carrying a servant through the front halls like some wandering commoner?"

Sigrid glanced briefly down at herself.

Mud lightly stained parts of her dress. Dust clung faintly to her sleeves and skirts from being dragged earlier across the manor floor.

Then her eyes returned to him.

"And what concern of yours is my appearance?" she asked evenly. "You left this estate without so much as informing me beforehand, yet somehow I remain the one subjected to reprimand."

The Duke’s sternness faltered for half a second.

Guilt crossed his face briefly before pride buried it again almost immediately.

Maria stepped forward gracefully, though beneath the softness on her face, irritation already flickered in her eyes. She had always worn kindness like jewelry, beautiful on the surface and carefully displayed whenever others were watching.

"Sigrid," she said gently, almost reproachfully, "surely you cannot blame Father and Mother for this misunderstanding. You have spent years refusing every invitation offered to you. After some time, people naturally stop asking."

Her voice remained sweet, delicate enough to sound reasonable, yet every word landed exactly where it was meant to.

"You make it seem as though everyone here neglects you intentionally," Maria continued with a small sigh. "But how were we meant to know you would suddenly care about joining us now?"

Sigrid did not even spare her a glance. That alone caused a faint crack in Maria’s composure.

"Oh, do not trouble yourself," Sigrid replied calmly. "I have long since understood my position within this household. What irritates me is not being excluded. It is the hypocrisy of leaving me behind, only to criticize me the moment you return."

Maria’s smile stiffened almost invisibly.

"I intend to bathe and change my attire now," Sigrid continued. "If you would excuse me."

She turned away again.

"Sigrid, you shall return here at once!" Duchess Genevieve snapped sharply.

Sigrid did not even bother looking back.

She simply kept walking.

Genevieve gasped softly in disbelief while Maria hurried after her, quickly reaching out to grab Sigrid’s wrist.

"How bold of you," Maria said sharply as she grabbed Sigrid’s wrist. The sweetness from earlier thinned slightly beneath the strain in her expression. "Have you truly forgotten how to behave before your parents? Or do you believe disappearing into your room for years suddenly excuses this disgraceful attitude?"

Sigrid slowly turned her head.

Her crimson eyes lowered first toward Maria’s hand gripping her wrist before rising calmly to meet Maria’s gaze.

The change in atmosphere was immediate.

Fear crossed Maria’s face suddenly. Not the fear of being harmed, but the uneasy feeling that came when someone you thought you understood no longer felt familiar at all.

A dangerous aura lingered behind Sigrid’s eyes now, cold and oppressive enough to make Maria’s chest tighten involuntarily.

"Remove your hand from me," Sigrid said quietly.

Maria slowly withdrew her hand, masking her unease quickly, though something unsettled lingered behind her eyes. She hated not understanding people, and at this moment, Sigrid felt dangerously unreadable.

Sigrid looked away from her again.

"Step mum," Sigrid corrected once more. "And should none of you have noticed already, I am covered in mud and would greatly prefer to change out of these clothes. Common courtesy alone ought to suggest that any further discussion can wait until afterward."

Then she walked away.

This time nobody stopped her.

The silence left behind felt unbearably heavy as the remaining members of the Beaufort household stood frozen where they were, each of them struggling to understand what exactly had changed.

Because Sigrid Beaufort had always been stubborn.

But never like this.