Chapter 250
Esme walked into the hospital room, her expression devoid of any concern for Victoria. Instead, her attention settled almost entirely on Anne, who stood nearby looking perfectly fine.
“Anne, did you stay here overnight? You look exhausted. You’re the most treasured member of the Windsor family. You shouldn't be spending the whole night in a place reeking of hospital disinfectant."
Taking Anne’s hand, Esme spoke in a tone laced with both concern and quiet reproach.
From beginning to end, she barely spared Victoria a glance. Victoria lay propped against the headboard, her arm wrapped in thick bandages.
She sat silently, her gaze lowered, her eyes carrying nothing but a dull, lingering disappointment.
She didn’t even have the strength to ridicule herself. She simply watched as Esme placed a carefully wrapped fruit basket on the bedside table.
“I had someone prepare some fruit. Anne, these are all your favorites. You need to eat well and keep your strength up,” Esme said lightly.
Only then did she turn to Victoria, as though granting her a courtesy.
“Oh, of course, Victoria—you can have some too. We can’t have outsiders thinking the Windsor family treats you poorly.”
Victoria’s eyes fell on the basket. Inside were strawberries, peaches, and a whole box of fresh blueberries.
Blueberries—the one thing that could trigger a severe allergic reaction in her, even a potentially fatal shock if she so much as touched them.
Yet Esme, her own mother, had completely forgotten. She hadn’t even considered the danger of placing them within Victoria’s reach.
The hospital room fell silent.
Esme frowned, displeased by Victoria’s hollow quiet. She wanted to scold her—for being difficult, immature, always an embarrassment to the family.
But Anne was present. To preserve her image as a “good mother,” Esme forced those words down. She would restrain herself—for Anne’s sake alone.
As for Victoria, Esme didn't care.
“Since you’re not dying, you should leave the hospital soon. Don’t waste money and resources here.” With that curt remark, Esme turned and walked out, not lingering a moment longer.
After the door closed, only breathing and the low hum of machines remained.
Victoria stared at the box of blueberries, her bloodless lips forming a bitter curve. She reached out with her uninjured left hand, numbly going for the fruit in the basket.
A sharp slapping sound cut through her movement.
Anne immediately grabbed her wrist and pushed the blueberries far away.
"Don't touch them!" Her eyes instantly reddened, her voice tight. "Victoria, I'm sorry... Mother was just careless. Wait here, I'll go downstairs right now and buy you your favorite cherries."
Victoria watched Anne's hurried figure leave. She slowly pulled her hand back under the blanket, tears finally falling silently onto the back of her hand.
In the real world, in the study at the Russell Manor.
"Blueberries... she's allergic to blueberries..."
Edward collapsed to his knees on the cold floor, as if all strength had been drained from him. He clutched his hair tightly, a suppressed sob forcing its way from his throat.
These memories hurt him even more. He finally understood why Victoria had looked so desperate when she saw that box of blueberries.
Even the woman who gave birth to her didn't care whether she lived or died. Even the Windsor family didn't know about her blueberry allergy. How could she dare hope that anyone else would care?
But after they got married, what had he done?!
He'd pinned Victoria to the dining table, ignoring her desperate crying and struggling, and forcibly shoved a large piece of blueberry pie into her mouth.
He'd watched as red welts broke out all over her neck, watched as she clawed at her throat in pain from difficulty breathing, watched as she rolled on the floor.
Back then he'd even sneered, mocking her for playing the victim, cursing that she deserved it.
"Ah!"
Edward suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face. The crisp sound echoed through the empty study. His lip immediately split and bled, but as if he couldn't feel the pain, he slapped himself several more times.
"I'm an animal... no, I'm worse than an animal!"
She had been paying with her life. For Anne's dying wish, she'd put her life in his hands, letting him trample all over it.
The painful memories didn't let him go, dragging him back to that cold winter.
That night, Victoria's father, Anthony, the head of the Windsor family, returned to Asteria City from a business trip. He didn't even go home first, heading straight to Silvercrest Medical Center reeking of alcohol.
At the time, Victoria was handling discharge paperwork with Anne by her side.
"Since you're being discharged, you're both coming home with me." Anthony's face was cold, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Esme stood nearby agreeing, her words proper but transparently fake.
"Yes, you sisters should both move back to the Windsor Mansion. We have servants there, it'll be easier to take care of you. Victoria, you're injured and still living outside—if outsiders found out, what would they say about the Windsor family?"
They only ever cared about reputation.
Victoria kept her head down. Her body was thin, trembling slightly, without even the courage to refuse.
But then Anne pulled Victoria behind her, meeting her parents' cold, calculating gazes directly.
"That won't be necessary, Father, Mother." Anne's attitude was unusually firm. "Victoria needs quiet rest. I'll take her back to our rental apartment. I'll take care of her myself."
Anne knew all too well what it would mean for Victoria to return to the Windsor Mansion. There would be no real care there, only favoritism and long-term emotional neglect. She couldn't let Victoria go back.
Anthony frowned. He didn't like being contradicted, but Anne had always been steady and was the family's pride. In the end, he just gave a cold snort and didn't push further.
Seeing this, Esme could only nod reluctantly in agreement.