Chapter 177 The Adopted Younger Sister Waits for Her Biological Father to Appear, Punish Cressida?

Chapter 177 The Adopted Younger Sister Waits for Her Biological Father to Appear, Punish Cressida?

Cressida walked Bella to the palace gates. It was already late, so Bella couldn't go back inside with her.

Before leaving, Bella said, "I'll be at your Autumn Feast tomorrow too. I'll bring plenty of people along — since it's your first time hosting, I'll make sure the place is packed."

Cressida smiled. "Thank you, Princess."

When she got home, Cressida ran into Patrick in the corridor.

Patrick spoke first. "Do you know what time it is? Where have you been?"

Cressida replied calmly, "Princess Bella had me over for dinner. I got back late. Is something wrong?"

At the mention of Princess Bella, Patrick's expression immediately softened into a smile.

"Good. You shouldn't always be so cold — mix more with the royal aristocracy." Then he added, "Nothing urgent. I just wanted to remind you about the Autumn Feast tomorrow. Don't go out there on your own. Have your Aunt Brynn stay by your side. Understood?"

Cressida knew exactly what he meant.

He cared about appearances. He didn't want people thinking the family had a mistress of the house, yet it was his daughter running everything.

But given Clio's condition, Patrick didn't dare let her be seen in public either.

So Brynn, useless as she was, could at least be trotted out as a front.

Cressida nodded. "I've already arranged it."

Patrick relaxed. He turned to leave, hands clasped behind his back, walking with a self-satisfied swagger.

"Father." Cressida suddenly called out to him.

Patrick looked back, a little surprised. "What is it?"

These days, Cressida spoke to him when she had something to say and ignored him when she didn't. Her actually calling out to him like this was rare.

He almost felt flattered.

"I was just having dinner with Princess Bella at Lumina Retreat," Cressida said. "I heard something. Everett has been murdered."

Patrick jolted, then let out a scornful laugh. "Serves him right. I saw through the Howard family a long time ago — rotten to the core. Their son gets himself hooked on Elysian Dust and then shows up at our door demanding justice. Their family's already on its way down. Everett's death doesn't surprise me one bit."

Cressida watched him quietly.

"What I'm worried about is people connecting his death to Rose."

An autumn wind swept in behind her, sending the deep blue of her skirt rippling like the sea at night — vast and unfathomable.

Patrick went cold at her words. A chill ran down his spine.

"...Surely not? That little wretch wouldn't dare do something like that. Impossible."

"But there's bad blood between them. Rose pushed Everett into using Elysian Dust, which led to him making a scene in public. It's fine if she's suspected — what I'm worried about is people putting two and two together. The Howard family had a falling-out with ours, and now Everett turns up dead. Someone could easily pin the blame on us."

"This is outrageous!" Patrick snapped. "Getting tangled up with that family — what rotten luck. Bunch of bastards."

Cressida's voice stayed even. "Don't let yourself get worked up over it. Have someone keep an eye on Rose yourself, Father. As long as she stays quiet and out of trouble, that's what matters most."

Patrick looked at her. "Handle it for me."

Cressida shook her head. "The Autumn Feast is bringing in a lot of guests. I can't manage both."

When he thought about it that way, Patrick accepted it.

"Fine. I'll take care of it." He walked off, hands behind his back, still muttering curses at the Howard family under his breath.

Cressida glanced after him, then turned and went back to her room.

At that same moment, across the house, Rose sat at her vanity, running her fingers along her dark, coiled hair.

"Did I lose a hairpin?" she murmured, half to herself.

Her current maid was a girl named Molly, from the same group as the previous Kassy. But Molly was more loyal — Rose had given her more than the others — so when the rest of the maids left, Molly was the only one who stayed.

Molly searched everywhere, turning over the clothes Rose had changed out of earlier, checking every fold.

Rose had already pawned off most of her jewelry to pay off Michael's debts, so she only had one jewelry box left. It was easy enough to check at a glance.

"There is one gold hairpin missing," Molly said, her voice careful and nervous, bracing for punishment. "Please don't punish me, Miss. I don't know where it went... Could it have fallen in Mr. Howard's carriage?"

Rose had ridden back in Everett's carriage, which had dropped her off in the alley and left.

"Unlikely," Rose said.

She thought back carefully. She had dressed up specially to meet Everett and had worn three gold hairpins. They had some weight to them — if one had fallen in the carriage, she would have noticed.

Unless it had fallen somewhere inside Lumina Retreat.

The thought brought something else to mind. Right as she had stepped out of Lumina Retreat, a man had bumped into her. He was moving fast, head down, hadn't even looked at her — just muttered a quick apology and kept walking. She hadn't even caught a glimpse of his face.

Rose's heart gave a sudden lurch.

What if he had lifted it right then and there?

She wasn't afraid of it being some random pickpocket. What worried her was someone with a purpose.

And on top of that — Cressida had been at Lumina Retreat tonight. Knowing Cressida the way she did, Rose knew she was someone who always played the long game, always struck when least expected.

She couldn't afford to be careless.

Rose quickly opened her box and pulled out the remaining money her birth father, Mr. Smith, had given her. She pressed all of it into Molly's hands.

"Go to Golden Shop in the city right now and buy me a gold hairpin that looks exactly like the one I lost. The pattern is magpies on boughs — it has to be identical. Do you hear me?"

Molly blinked, a little dazed. "Miss, this is too much money."

"Take all of it! Tell them to rush it. I need it by tomorrow — no, tonight!"

Molly was hustled out the door before she could say another word.

Rose's heart was hammering. She wanted to go find out whether Cressida had made it home, but she didn't dare.

She would just have to wait. Maybe by morning, she'd hear that Cressida had been found with broken arms and legs — too hurt to put on the Autumn Feast at all.

Molly slipped out the door, unaware that one of the servants had quietly fallen into step behind her, keeping a careful distance.

Rose spent the whole night dreaming.

She dreamed of her father — the Deputy Minister of Personnel, Lord White — returning to Emerald City and coming to Hamilton Mansion to claim her, with all the fanfare such a reunion deserved.

She was dressed in the finest silks. She made Cressida and Patrick get down on their knees and beg her forgiveness. And when Mr. Smith saw what had been done to her face, he reported it to the King, who had Cressida flogged a hundred times to avenge her.

Rose was smiling when she woke up.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. She could hear noise coming from the courtyard outside.

"Molly, what's all that commotion out there?"

"Ms. Cressida Hamilton is hosting the Autumn Feast today. Guests will be arriving soon, so the servants have been up since early getting everything ready," Molly answered.

Rose sat bolt upright. Her eyes went wide with alarm, the ugly scars on her face twisting as her expression darkened.

"Cressida is still hosting the feast? She's fine?"

Molly shook her head, looking puzzled. "Ms. Cressida Hamilton has been up managing things for a while now. Is something wrong, Miss?"

Rose's stomach dropped.

Had Everett failed? Had the knockout incense not been enough to take Cressida down? Or had Cressida turned it back on him?

Rose wanted to go to the Howard family and find out what had happened, but she was afraid Aurora would hear about it. She forced herself to hold back — because today, she had something important of her own to do. Something that would put a thorn right in Cressida's side.

By full daylight, the gates of Hamilton Mansion were thrown open. The cobblestones, freshly scrubbed and still damp, gleamed in the morning light.

Everything was ready. All that remained was for the guests to arrive.