Lucas Wingston didn't respond to his son. Instead, he simply met his gaze in silence.
Knock, knock...
The butler, George, entered the room. Unlike the excitement he felt at the thought of seeing the young princess, there was no trace of emotion on the faces of the two Wingstons. It was as if this wasn't a significant occasion at all-as if meeting the young princess was nothing out of the ordinary.
"What?" the Duke asked coldly, his brows furrowing.
"Sorry to interrupt you, but... Duke, the young princess has arrived." George informed him.
"She's late. Let her in." Lucas said icily, not even bothering to look up.
Without hesitation, George bowed and quickly exited the room.
"Sir Henry, the Duke is waiting for the princess." he relayed before turning his gaze to the innocent young girl standing nearby.
For a moment, George hesitated.
He couldn't help but take in her appearance. Her clothing was nothing like what a noble young lady should wear. In fact, even the children of the head maid-and his own child-were dressed far better than she was.
"Hi, Mister!"
George's serious expression softened at the cheerful greeting.
Her bright, innocent smile was so pure that he found himself unable to suppress a small smile in return.
What was he thinking?...The young princess was innocent. He shouldn't let his sadness show in front of her.
"Good day, young princess," he said, bowing respectfully. "The Duke, your father, is waiting for you inside. Please, go in."
Anastasia couldn't wipe the smile off her face upon hearing those words.
The mansion was clean and spacious-vastly different from the place she had lived in, where no one cleaned or tended to the household. Unlike here, where, the moment they stepped inside, maids were already lined up in an orderly fashion, ready to serve.
However, there was still so much she didn't understand. All she knew at that moment was that she was finally going to meet her family. That thought alone was enough to keep the bright smile on her lips.
As they entered the room, she eagerly looked around, taking in her surroundings. Her eyes quickly darted toward the darker part of the room, where the sunlight barely reached.
There, standing in the shadows, were two figures.
Lucy gently lowered her from her arms, allowing her to stand on her own. Remembering what Lucy had taught her, she took a deep breath and performed the proper greeting.
Her smile grew even wider.
She was standing before her family-at least, that was what she believed.
"Greetings to the Duke and the young master of the Winston family. My name is Anastasia--"
"She looks like a rag." the Duke coldly interrupted.
Anastasia's smile instantly faded. She tilted her head, glancing down at her dress-the very best one she owned, carefully stitched by Lucy's hands. Her small fingers brushed over the fabric, as if searching for the flaw that had made the Duke speak so cruelly.
"But... this is my best dress... Lucy made it for me." she murmured.
The Duke's sharp gaze shifted from Anastasia to Lucy, his cold expression making the maid stiffen in place. Then, his eyes swept over the others in the room-Henry, as well as the butler, George.
"All of you, except my son, get out. I need to speak with her."
Lucy hesitated, her hands clenching into fists as she looked at Anastasia, concern evident in her eyes. But she had no choice. Lowering her head in obedience, she reluctantly turned and followed the others out of the room, casting one last worried glance over her shoulder.
The heavy doors closed behind them.
Now, only the Duke, his son, and Anastasia remained.
"You. Do you know who I am?"
Anastasia lifted her gaze to him, her bright emerald eyes reflecting curiosity rather than fear.
Then, as if something clicked in her mind, a wide, radiant smile spread across her face.
"Y-you're the Duke... my father!"
For a brief second, the Duke's eyes darkened, and a flicker of surprise crossed his face. However, it disappeared just as quickly.
"Then do you have any idea why I summoned you?"
Anastasia pursed her lips, deep in thought. After a few seconds, she shook her head.
The Duke crossed his arms.
"From now on, you will live here in the manor." Lucas said coldly.
A gasp broke the silence.
Standing off to the side, the Duke's eldest son stiffened, disbelief evident in his eyes.
He turned to his father, his hands clenched at his sides.
"A-are you serious about that, F-father?"
Anastasia's gaze drifted toward him, unable to hide her amazement at his striking appearance.
The Duke and the young man-who looked to be around fifteen years old-were almost identical.
The only difference between them was their eye color; the Duke's eyes were a piercing shade, while the young man's were a deep emerald hue-just like hers.
And, just like her, he had platinum-white hair.
"What are you looking at?" the boy snapped.
"B-brother..." she murmured hesitantly, her small hands clutching the fabric of her dress. "Can I call you brother?"
The young man stiffened, his expression darkening.
"W-what the- Are you even aware of your situation?" Stevan scoffed. "You have no right to call me your brother, nor the Duke your father!"
"Dion. Stevan." the Duke's cold voice cut through the tension, his gaze never leaving Anastasia.
"Don't mind him. He is your brother, so you have the right to call him whatever you want. But... there is one thing you must remember."
His voice was firm and devoid of warmth.
"As a member of the Winston family, I will ensure that you learn everything necessary to conduct yourself as a young noble lady. But don't expect anything more. Do not disrupt our lives-just live quietly, as you have until now."
-------+++
"Lucy, what does Father mean when he says 'just live quietly'?"
It was a question Anastasia couldn't quite understand. Ever since the Duke had spoken those words, they had replayed in her mind, carrying a sting she couldn't shake off.
Lucy froze for a moment, her fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of Anastasia's dress as she adjusted it. Though surprised by the question, she wasn't entirely caught off guard.
She had known this day would come.
She had known that, sooner or later, Anastasia would begin to question her place in the manor.
Lucy knew all too well how heartless and cold the Duke of Winston could be, as well as his two sons, when it came to Anastasia. However, they hadn't always been this way-at least, not when the Duchess was still alive.
The Duchess had been the only source of warmth and happiness in the manor. But ever since she passed away while giving birth to Lady Anastasia, that warmth had vanished, leaving behind only a suffocating coldness.
The Duke had never been able to look at Anastasia-almost as if he blamed her for the Duchess's death.
The Duchess had already been in poor health, and the doctors had warned her that another pregnancy could put her life in danger. But she hadn't cared.
She had cared more about her unborn child.
Despite her frail condition, she had carried Lady Anastasia to term, determined to bring her into the world no matter the cost.
The Duke, however, saw it differently. He believed that the young girl had stolen the Duchess's strength, that she was the reason his wife had passed away.
And so, without hesitation, he abandoned the infant in an old castle, leaving her to grow up in isolation for nearly five years-hidden away as if she were nothing more than an unwanted burden.
Like a kitten discarded in the cold.
Lucy had hoped-just for a moment-that the Duke might finally care about his young daughter. That perhaps, after all these years, he had finally decided to take responsibility for her. But it seemed nothing had changed.
He wasn't bringing Lady Anastasia into the manor out of affection.
No, he merely wanted her to live as a noble should, to ensure she wouldn't embarrass the Winston name. But beyond that, he still didn't care about her.
"A-about that..." Lucy hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "The Duke wants you to live with him and your brothers at the manor. However, he expects you to behave while you're there, to-"
"Pffttttt---"
A sudden, amused laugh cut through the room.
It came from one of the maids assisting with Anastasia's packing. Heide, a maid with a sharp tongue and little patience for pleasantries, smirked as she folded Anastasia's dress.
"Lucy, stop sugarcoating things," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We all know that's not what the Duke really meant."
Anastasia blinked in confusion as Heide continued.
"He probably just wants Lady Anastasia to live in the attic-somewhere he won't have to see her. Out of sight, out of mind." She let out a mock gasp before smirking again.
"So, congratulations, Lady Anastasia! You've been promoted-from 'the abandoned daughter' to 'the invisible mouse of the manor.' You'll be under the same roof, but you still won't be allowed to interact with them. What an honor."
Lucy shot Heide a sharp glare, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Heide, that's enough."
But the other maid only shrugged, completely unfazed by Lucy's warning.
Lucy turned back to Anastasia, forcing a reassuring smile despite the uncertainty creeping into her own heart. "Don't listen to her, young lady. She's just being cruel for no reason. I assure you, the Duke won't treat you like that. He will... surely treat you better this time."
Her voice was steady, but deep down, even she wasn't convinced by her own words.
Because she knew Duke Winston far too well.
He was the coldest man she had ever met-a man who cared more for his dukedom than his own daughter. And no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn't ignore the gnawing fear that Heide's words weren't entirely wrong.