Chapter 473

That evening, Calliope made her way straight to the Jewell household. As she arrived, she found Zelda bustling around the kitchen with the servants.

Zelda lit up when she saw Ulysses come home, but her expression cooled upon noticing Calliope. Instead of the usual scolding, Zelda simply chose to ignore her, which was a small mercy in itself.

Calliope, unfazed, just gave her a quick glance and let her eyes wander around the house. It had been a while since she’d last been there, and she took a moment to take in her surroundings.

Zelda, sensing Calliope’s indifference, huffed impatiently. “Is it too much to expect a little courtesy? Not even a “hello“?”

Despite being convinced of the need for Calliope’s presence, Zelda still couldn’t quite mask her irritation.

Calliope met Zelda’s gaze calmly. “Well, you didn’t exactly greet me either, did you?”

“I’m your elder, and you’re the younger one. Isn’t it your duty to greet me first?” Zelda snapped, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Oh, in that case, good evening, Zelda,” Calliope replied, her tone mockingly formal.

Zelda rolled her eyes and stormed back into the kitchen. “What an attitude!” she fumed to the servants, chopping carrots with more force than necessary. “That’s why she’s so hard to like!”

A servant, brushing flour from her apron, tried to pacify her. “Come now. There’s no grudge too big between mother and daughter. She’s not so bad, really.”

Zelda snorted. “I’d like to know what’s so great about her. She’s been a thorn in my side since day one.” “Well, ma’am, it’s been years. She was just a baby; she didn’t know anything back then. You can’t blame a child for that,” the servant reasoned.

“I nearly died, and you think I shouldn’t blame her?” Zelda retorted, her voice rising.

The servant sighed. She knew how unyielding Zelda could be. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then.”

Meanwhile, Calliope was strolling through the rooms, a quiet calm about her. Monty and the others hovered nearby, eager to rekindle memories of happier times when they were all close.

“Callie, remember this vase?” Monty chimed in, gesturing toward a ceramic piece on the mantle. “You loved it so much as a kid. I bought it just for you!”

“Yeah, I remember,” Calliope nodded. “Though, if I recall, Lisette liked it too, so I gave it to her.”

Monty hesitated, slightly taken aback.

Valerian gave Monty a sidelong glare, as if to say, “Way to go, bring up the wrong memory.”

Valerian racked his brain, searching for a more pleasant recollection. After a pause, he brightened. “Callie, remember how you wanted to learn the piano? I offered to teach you once.”

Calliope’s eyes drifted to the grand piano in the corner. She had loved it, and Valerian had indeed promised lessons. Yet, like many promises, it had faded away.

Eventually, it was Lisette who received the lessons. She recalled sitting by, watching as Lisette played, only to be told she was a distraction. Valerian had scolded her, saying she’d never have the talent for it.

“Yeah, that sticks with me,” Calliope said, her voice steady. “Except you taught Lisette, not me. You said I’d never be good enough to even touch a piano.”

Valerian winced at the memory, wishing he’d chosen his words more wisely back then.