Chapter 169 A Mother's Forced Hand; A Ward's Ruined Face

Chapter 169 A Mother's Forced Hand; A Ward's Ruined Face

A violent sob tore from Rose's throat.

She had known all along: once she fell into Cressida's hands, there was only one end—death. She would rather finish it herself right now.

Then a panicked voice came from the doorway, "Stop!"

Everyone saw Clio stumble in, wild-eyed. The moment Rose saw her, she shrieked through her sobs, "Mother, save me! Mother!"

Clio wrapped her arms tightly around Rose and turned to Patrick. "You can't be so heartless. Rose is our adopted daughter. If we let them treat her like this, the whole family's reputation will be ruined."

Patrick slammed his hand on the table. "Go and ask around—find out what disgusting things she's done!"

Rose curled into Clio's arms, weeping. "I didn't trick Everett into taking Elysian Dust. He was already curious about it. I only kept his secret. I'm innocent . . ."

"Stop lying!"

Aurora's voice rang with fury. "My son said you were the one who got him to take it in the carriage, sneaking around behind everyone's back. Then you used the drug in the house you made him buy, and you kept pushing him to marry you quickly. How could you be so evil?"

Rose looked up at Clio. "Mother, I didn't. Please believe me."

"Of course I believe you!"

Clio whipped her head around to scold Aurora. "Isn't your son at fault too? Taking that stuff—that's his own lack of morals. What would a young girl like Rose know?"

The Howard family had just been put in their place by Cressida, and now Clio's words stoked their anger again.

Ernest stood up roughly. "So this is your family's attitude? Fine. Don't blame me if this gets out. When it ruins the reputation of every young lady in your house, don't come crying to me."

He pulled Aurora toward the door, but Reid quickly stepped in front of them.

"Let's talk this through. The other young ladies in our house are well-behaved. They've never done anything wrong. Please be reasonable."

Ernest said, "My son's reputation is already destroyed. Why would I care about yours? Whether he makes a good match or takes a post at court, both paths are closed to him now."

Reid looked anxiously at Patrick. "Say something. We can't let one adopted daughter ruin the name of every girl in this family."

Patrick was worried too. Cressida was about to become a princess—if this scandal broke and spoiled her chances, his dream of being the prince's father-in-law would go up in smoke.

He shouted at the servants, "Drag Aurora away! From now on, Rose has nothing to do with this family."

"Absolutely not!" Clio was frantic. "I'll die right here in front of you if you do that."

Aurora sneered. "What a fine family this is. The adopted daughter does the harm, and the lady of the house covers for her. You've certainly opened my eyes."

"Father, I have a solution that will work for everyone." Cressida's voice was calm, her expression cool. "Since Mother can't bear to part with her, why not let her give the Howard family an answer herself?"

Clio hugged Rose even tighter, wary. "What are you trying to do?"

Cressida walked toward them and pulled a golden hairpin from her hair. Its tip gleamed coldly. She placed it into Clio's trembling hand.

"Mother, why don't you scar that troublemaking face yourself? It will satisfy the Howards' anger and teach Rose a lesson."

The hall went silent.

Aurora recovered first, stunned. "Are you joking? There's no way she'll do that."

Rose stared in terror. "No! Don't!"

Clio shook violently, and the golden hairpin clattered to the floor.

"You . . . you're so cruel!"

"Cruel?" Cressida looked down at them both. "Rose tricked Everett into taking Elysian Dust and ruined his future. My suggestion is only a small punishment."

Clio couldn't stop trembling. She looked at Rose's tear-streaked face—this was the child she had cherished for ten years.

"Mother, you can't do this to me!" Rose sobbed, barely able to breathe. "I know I was wrong. I really know!"

Cressida bent down, staring at Clio, her voice ice-cold. "Think carefully, Mother. Would you rather keep her here as a disfigured servant, or let everyone condemn her and have Father throw her out? You can't have it both ways."

A drop of cold sweat slid slowly down Clio's temple. She looked at Patrick and saw his face was dark as thunder. She knew he had never liked Rose and had wanted to get rid of her for a long time. But Rose couldn't leave now—if she did, she would have nowhere to go.

Before everyone's eyes, Clio's fingers trembled as she bent down and picked up the hairpin. Rose tried to dodge in terror, but two strong maids held her fast.

"Hold her!" Patrick barked.

"Mother! Please!" Rose struggled wildly, her hair falling across her face. "I'm your most beloved daughter! If you ruin my face, my whole life is over!"

Tears streamed down Clio's face as the point of the hairpin hovered over Rose's cheek, shaking. Cressida watched at her leisure, her tone light. "Rose, Mother is doing this for your own good. Otherwise, Father will throw you out, and you'll become someone even the beggars on the street can use as they please. Is that really the life you want?"

Hearing that, Clio hardened her heart, gritted her teeth, and struck down. Rose's piercing scream filled the room as the hairpin cut from her left cheekbone all the way to the corner of her mouth. Blood poured out instantly.

Reid and Brynn quickly turned away, unable to look. The Hamilton couple stood frozen—they had never expected Clio to actually go through with it.

Cressida saw this and her lips curved slightly. "Mother, you did well."

Clio opened her eyes and saw Rose curled on the ground, her whole body convulsing with pain. Clio looked down at her own hands—they were covered in bright red blood. She had done this to Rose, the daughter she treasured like a jewel. She had destroyed that face with her own hands.

Then Clio let out a terrible wail, went deathly pale, and fainted.

Cressida pressed her lips together. When the Howards had come to make trouble, she had deliberately let the news leak to Clio. She wanted Clio to come forward and do it herself. In this world, there was no crueler punishment than making them hurt each other.

And yet, compared to all the suffering Cressida had endured in her past life, this was still less than one ten-thousandth of it.

Patrick looked at Ernest, his voice grim. "You saw everything. Our family isn't covering for her—we just failed to discipline our adopted daughter properly. Now that it's come to this, what more do you have to complain about?"

Ernest opened his mouth, then stopped. He exchanged a glance with Aurora. They had driven the lady of the house to faint and left the adopted daughter disfigured. If they pushed further and truly angered Cressida, and word of this reached the king, it would only backfire on them.

"Your Grace, our two families should have nothing more to do with each other. Keep your adopted daughter under control and make sure she never bothers my son again."

With that, Ernest and Aurora left in a huff.

As soon as they were gone, Patrick shouted at Noah, "Throw that little wretch out right now. I won't have her staining this family's name any longer."

But Cressida stopped him. "Father, I think after this, Rose has learned her lesson. Let's wait until the storm blows over before we decide what to do with her."

Patrick frowned. "What a disaster. If I had known this would happen, I never would have agreed to let her through the door."

He stormed off in anger as well.

Cressida passed by Rose, who was still wailing on the ground, blood flowing from her face. Not a single servant dared to bandage her. Cressida remembered what Rose had said to her in her past life, and she repeated the same words in the same cold voice.

"Rose, right now you look just like a stray dog on the street."

Those were the exact words Rose had used to mock her in that other life. Hearing them now from Cressida's mouth, Rose's whole body shuddered, and she wept even more desperately, her cries full of hatred and venom—as if she were the one who had been terribly wronged.

Cressida said coldly, "Take her back to her room. She is not to set foot outside unless absolutely necessary."

From that day on, no one cared what became of the young lady who had been raised in that house. The number of servants attending her dropped from six or seven to just one. And that one maid would not even stay with her at night, going off to sleep on her own.

In the dead of that silent night, a strip of white cloth was thrown over a beam.

Rose stepped onto a chair and gripped the cloth tightly. Her tears had long dried, leaving only her eyes swollen like walnuts. She had not forgotten what the surgeon said that afternoon when he treated her wound. The cut was too deep and too long—even when it healed, it would certainly leave a hideous scar.

A scar across half her face?

She would rather die.