Chapter 250: The Failed Product’s Story
I could feel something shifting - my aura was being drained rapidly, faster than I’d ever experienced. Even the Infinite Loop couldn’t keep up with the demand; the energy was being pulled away at an alarming rate.
That’s when I noticed them, the faint, ghostly scenes gradually flickering into life just behind Cassandra.
I was entranced by what I saw.
Images of a small girl, maybe six or seven, kneeling on cold stone floors, carefully collecting the crumbs from beneath the grand dining table after the family finished their feast. Her tiny hands trembled as she ate those precious scraps, savoring every morsel as if it were a banquet.
I clenched my fists, my emotions intensifying at the sight.
And more scenes started playing as Cassandra continued her tragic tale.
That same child curled up on the hard and cold ground of what looked like a storage room, shivering without blankets, with only her thin, worn clothes for warmth.
She even got beaten a few times by the servants and her family for ’stealing’ things from the storage. But it was obviously the servants who did it; they were clearly framing a young child who didn’t even know what stealing meant yet.
But as she said herself... What could a small girl like her do?
My heart ached, I even wanted to jump in there and give a slap to everyone who was tormenting her.
But... It was all in the past.
I could also do nothing and just watch.
Imprint those memories in my mind so that I could help Cassandra when the time comes, to show care and love she never received...
Meanwhile, the scenes continued to unfold, showing her growth through the years.
I watched as the lonely, frightened girl slowly learned to navigate the treacherous waters of her household. Her eyes grew sharper, more observant, learning to read micro expressions that could spell the difference between a beating and being ignored.
She developed an almost uncanny ability to anticipate what people wanted before they even spoke, becoming invisible when anger filled the atmosphere, appearing only when her presence was required.
She almost became like a living robot that only knew how to serve and obey, her own desires and personality buried so deep beneath layers of survival instinct that I wondered if she even remembered what it felt like to want something for herself.
And... Despite the cruelty that surrounded her daily life, despite the hunger and cold and constant humiliation, bullying, her natural beauty began to bloom as she grew older.
Her features became more refined, her frame developing graceful lines even as malnutrition kept her painfully thin...
Yet...
Even this became another burden, another curse to bear.
The way the others’ eyes would linger on her with a mixture of resentment and something darker, as if her growing beauty was an insult to their fragile sense of superiority, inviting unwanted attention and hunger of a different kind.
But, something changed as her father noticed these changes in her. Especially her beauty...
"...It was when I started to foolishly believe that I might be finally seen, that icy indifference had melted, that I might actually have a place in that grand household. It started when ’he’, my so-called father, suddenly started giving attention to me, his ’failed product’."
I had to drink a high-grade aura recovery potion to maintain the movie playing behind her.
The scenes then shifted, showing a 13 or 14-year-old Cassandra being called into lavish rooms she’d never been allowed to enter before. I watched as the shadowy figure of Duke Virellia began arranging private tutors for her. They gave lessons in etiquette, language, music, dance, and other important basic subjects.
"He started investing in me, a person whom he never acknowledged," Cassandra’s voice carried a bitter edge. "Suddenly, I was eating proper meals, wearing silk instead of rags, learning to speak and walk like a true ’noble’ lady."
"...For the first time in my life, I thought... I thought maybe I had finally proven my worth. Maybe I could earn the love I’ve always craved for secretly."
The phantom images showed her practicing writing, math, and reading with trembling fingers, not from cold this time, but from desperate hope of a lonely child.
Her posture straightened as she learned proper deportment, her speech becoming refined under the tutors’ guidance.
Her beauty flourished, growing more enchanting and breathtaking with each passing year.
"But... I was so naive," she whispered, her eyes still distant. "I didn’t know it would be my biggest mistake to trust those who had shown me nothing but cruelty for sixteen years. I didn’t fully understand that their sudden kindness wasn’t love - it was all a facade."
"..."
"Now I understand everything - they were just grooming their product, preparing their commodity for market."
The illusions ended.
My aura stopped being drained.
The incomprehensible emotional resonance, this weird phenomenon that I couldn’t understand, faded from my senses, leaving only the profound echoes of her suffering.
And this time, I truly felt everything she did.
"?"
Cassandra herself blinked, her eyes clearing as if waking up from a trance. And for a moment, confusion flickered across her face as she took in my expression, the way I was looking at her...
"!"
The realization dawned.
Her eyes widened as she understood what had just happened - that I had heard everything, experienced the depths of her pain in a way that words alone could never convey.
"You... you heard it all, didn’t you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I didn’t need to, no, I couldn’t answer with words. This was different from what happened with Aeron... She... She was...
...
"Mmm..."
I gave her a gentle smile - one that spoke volumes, that expressed my emotions.
A smile that said I believed every word, every memory, every moment of suffering she had endured...
That I wouldn’t betray her trust she had shown me by revealing her deepest wounds.
That I understood her completely, not just her words, but the very essence of who she was and had become and why.
Cassandra’s expression softened, and for the first time since I’d known her, she smiled back, not the practiced, careful smile she usually wore like armor, but something genuine and delicate.
A few teardrops slipped down her cheeks as she whispered.
"Thank you..."
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