Chapter 5 : Existence

The main Habsburg mansion.

Lance smiled warmly. "It's been a long time... How are you, Anne? Are there any problems filming your current project?" he asked gently, his tone full of the concern typical of a wise grandfather.

Anne placed the teacup gently on the table. "I'm fine, Grandpa. And everything's going well," Anne replied meekly, her voice calm and unwavering.

Lance nodded slightly, then his thoughts drifted to his grandson's wedding—like walking barefoot on ice. Cold, painful, and liable to shatter at any moment.

Honestly, Lance never wanted to cause Anne any more pain because of his own grandson's actions. He had advised her repeatedly not to go through with the marriage. But Anne insisted, especially since she herself loved his bastard grandson, Leonidas.

Lance took a deep breath. He didn't know how much longer his aging body could hold out. His health had been declining, especially since that day—three years ago.

The day when her much-awaited great-grandchild was declared dead, shortly after birth.

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Carmila came down from the top floor. She smiled when she heard her father-in-law's laughter. It had been a long time since the old man had looked this happy, laughing freely without any burden.

But her smile slowly faded when her eyes caught Anne Beilynn's figure in the living room.

"Dad, have you taken your medicine?" Carmila asked softly, approaching and placing her hand on the arm of her father-in-law's chair.

Lance returned the smile with a small smile, then nodded slowly. "I'm not a child you have to constantly supervise. I know when it's time to take my medicine," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed, but his old face remained smiling.

Carmila laughed softly. "Father is the most important in the Habsburg household." But as her gaze shifted to Anne, the smile on her lips slowly faded.

"You're here," she said, flatly without any warmth.

Anne just nodded. "Mom." Anne greeted calmly.

Carmila snorted softly, her eyes scanning Anne from head to toe—as if Anne's presence had tainted the air in the Habsburg family's living room.

"You still have the face to come here?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her voice remained calm, yet cold and biting like the winter air that pierced her bones.

Anne held her breath, but remained seated. Her gaze was flat, showing no emotion. But that didn't stop Carmila.

"A daughter-in-law who can't even bear children, let alone take care of her own husband... really, what's the point of your existence in this family?" she said, with a faint smile that was more hurtful than the insults.

"Carmila!" Lance gave his daughter-in-law a warning look to be quiet.

Anne fell silent. Her eyes were fixed on the polished marble floor, but her gaze was blank. A suffocating pain gnawed at her heart.

Those hurtful words again. The same sentence, in the same tone, from the same judgmental face.

"Not every woman is born fit to be a wife—especially a Habsburg wife."

"You are just a shadow in this house. Even your existence is questionable."

"You can't even carry out the simple duties of a wife. What's the point of your existence?"

"What kind of mother can't even save her own child?"

Anne should be used to it, right? She'd been through this.. But the truth was, her chest still felt tight. The pain lingered, like a wound that never truly healed even as time passed.

Anne took a deep breath, trying to swallow the emotions building in her throat. Not because she was weak. But because she knew that retaliating wouldn't change anything in front of her mother-in-law.

"Carmila, don't just blame one party." Lance's voice sounded heavy, but firm. His eyes that were starting to turn red looked at his daughter-in-law with disappointment that he couldn't hide. "Here, Leonidas is also at fault. If he were to compromise even a little with the situation... my great-grandson wouldn't leave." His voice rose an octave, looking at his daughter-in-law with red eyes.

The room froze. The words echoed like a sledgehammer hitting the walls of their family's pride.

Carmila froze, her lips parted but no words came out. "Father..." she whispered, barely audible. Her voice cracked, as if thousands of ants were crawling inside her chest, biting with guilt.

But before she could say anything, Lance stopped him.

"Shut up!" he snapped sharply.

A tense silence hung over the room. No one moved. No one spoke. Only regret hung in the air of the Habsburg residence.

Tension still hung in the air as footsteps sounded in the doorway.

Leather shoes stepped unhurriedly on the marble, but each step bounced loudly off the walls of the silent room.

Leonidas has come.

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it's not about ego, but once I feel ignored or unwanted I distance myself, silently - Anne Beilynn

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