The Stepmother Sister Should Have a Happy Ending with Cinderella - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The door was pushed open, and cold wind mixed with snow blew into the hall.

My mother, Lady Anna, by the fireplace, had waited a long time. Her gaze paused on the cloak on Evelyn, then softened when she saw me behind him. She brushed the snow from me and said gently but sternly:

“My dear daughter, perhaps you should take a hot bath. The forest at night is too dangerous. I hope next time you won’t run off like a wild child.”

“Alright, Mother.”

I kept my eyes down and replied quietly.

“Evelyn.”

Lady Anna frowned displeased. Her sudden voice made Evelyn, who was going upstairs, stop in his tracks.

Although he knew he was about to be ordered around again, he still lowered his eyes, turned around quietly, and called, “Lady Anna.”

“Boil water for your sister to bathe.”

“Yes.”

“No need.”

I looked up, stood protectively in front of the youth, held his hand to stop him from going to the woodshed, and said with pity and coquetry:

“Mother, Evelyn looks tired and is injured. Let him rest! As for boiling water, why not give it to John? He has nothing to do anyway, right?”

John was a servant who had followed Mother here, lazy and gluttonous, always ordering Evelyn around and coveting him.

Lady Anna gave me a deep look. Although she didn’t understand my favoritism toward Evelyn, she still kissed me on the forehead indulgently.

“Then goodnight, Lucia.”

“Goodnight, Mother.”

I watched Mother turn and walk gracefully back to her room.

I sighed in relief and turned to look at Evelyn. His light purple eyes were watching me, uncomprehending.

Very beautiful eyes.

Like mysterious and dreamy violets under the moon.

“Sister Lucia, may I return to my room?”

His voice sounded like a question, but it was unusually calm.

I knew what he was thinking.

“I’m afraid not, dear Brother Evelyn.”

Sure enough, the next moment, a mocking curve tugged at the youth’s lips. Just as he thought I might be thinking of another way to humiliate him-

I pushed him into a chair, then walked into the servants’ quarters and called angrily, “John!”

“Yes, yes, what is your bidding?”

John, startled awake, was about to start cursing, but when he heard my voice, he hurriedly got up, threw on some clothes, and with his bloated body bent over, asked me what I wanted.

“Go boil water. I want to bathe.”

“Oh, good heavens, so Miss Lucia, you woke me in the middle of the night for this?”

John’s eyes were filled with disbelief.

Although Count Henry was an impoverished noble, the household still had some servants; it wasn’t necessary for a butler like him to do such work.

Besides, in this household, he always considered himself half a master. Apart from errands that could earn him some illicit money, he would only exploit some other frail old servants and never did any physically laborious work.

Later in the novel, he even sold the news of my sister and me hiding to the Prince who planned to burn us to death.

A lazy and cunning bad servant.

“What? You’re not willing?”

I looked up, saw his unwilling expression, and sneered: “Then you’re fired.”

“Bazar, Andrew!”

Ignoring his pleas, I called out two other slightly sturdier servants and ordered:

“Throw this insolent John out of the estate.”

“No, you can’t do this to me!”

John, held up by the two men, turned back reluctantly, his face red as a pig’s liver out of rage, and shouted furiously:

“I’ll tell Lady Anna!”

“Is that so?”

I curled my lips in a cold smile:

“Then shall I sue you in court for stealing the master’s property? Send you to prison?”

John’s face went pale. With a creak, the estate’s iron gate closed, and he was thrown out into the snowdrift.

“Good heavens! God bless! That black-hearted John is finally gone.”

“I swear, I’ll have a good sleep tonight. May I wake up tomorrow and find this is not a dream.”

“But he still owes me a gold coin from last month.”

“Shh, be quiet! Miss Lucia is looking this way. Do you want to be kicked out too?”

My gaze fell on the three or four servants who, having heard the commotion, had risen from their rooms and were watching the scene from under the corridor eaves.

They bowed respectfully, said some flattering words, and then, fearing they might be the next to be kicked out, vied to show their worth.

“We’ll go boil water for you, Miss Lucia.”

I nodded in thanks, turned and walked back inside. There, quietly sitting in a chair with a fluffy white Ragdoll cat in his arms, was Evelyn.

“Sister.”

He whispered, looking obedient.

Sensing my arrival, the Ragdoll cat jumped onto the carpet, arched its back, bared its teeth in a defensive posture, and glared at me with blue eyes.

“Don’t worry, Ricky, I’m not going to bully him.”

I walked around the cat, went up to Evelyn, untied his red cloak soaked with snow, and dragged him over to the fireplace.

My fingertips touched his forehead, which was still burning hot.

I also sent someone to brew some herbal medicine.

The fireplace illuminated the youth’s delicate and handsome face. His purple pupils, cold and calm, watched my back as if trying to see through something.

But when I turned around.

The youth had resumed his obedient demeanor.

“After you bathe later, remember to drink the medicine.”

I sat down in front of him, leafing through a book.

“No need, Sister Lucia, I’m fine.”

I looked up. The youth before me was so thin and frail, his fair cheeks flushed red from fever.

“Ok.”

I threatened indifferently: “Suit yourself. But that is, unless you want to lie weak and dying in bed from illness, to be bled by the church’s priests or forced to drink their holy water.”

Evelyn’s long lashes trembled slightly, but he did not reply.