Amorous Sycophancy

2. Sapphire Onset

In the somber room, instead of embracing the gravity of our loss, a hushed symphony of gossip unfolded like a clandestine ballet. Whispers circled, weaving a narrative of speculation and judgment surrounding the circumstances of Mom's passing. The undertone, though muted, carried the weight of judgment, painting her as someone who lacked the strength to face life.

The words did not speak too loudly since who would dare challenge the Callistos, one of the formidable powers in the country? Still, the secret talks continued, moving quietly from one person to another, creating a different story that didn't match what the Callistos were saying. 

In the concealed scene where malicious gossip flowed, tarnishing a Callisto member, the Callistos played their part in the orchestrated charade. They, too, engaged in the dance of deception, portraying Mom's demise not as a result of her own struggles but as an unfortunate accident—a tragedy that befell a woman of stature.

However, beneath the facade of mourning, the Callistos were astute players in the intricate game of societal hierarchy. Their presence wasn't motivated by genuine grief but by a calculated strategy to safeguard their standing. Mom's death, to them, was not a blow to be mourned but a potential threat to their status, dignity, and rank in the country's societal structure.

It became evident as my uncles, both players in this nuanced game, engaged selectively with individuals in discussions that weren't about condolences but rather business matters. Their conversations weren't with everyone, only with those deemed essential in preserving their intricate web of influence. In their actions, the Callistos demonstrated an acute awareness of the fragility of the castle society they inhabited—a society built on the precarious balance of perceived strength and concealed vulnerabilities.

Here I stood, casting a hush over the room with my statement.

Anticipation hung thick in the air; everyone yearned for the impending drama to unfold. The tension, like a taut string between Callisto and Anderson, begged to snap, unleashing a war of tears and losses. They craved the spectacle, yearning to witness who would emerge as the fallen king and who would stand tall.

Uncle, sensing the impending chaos, desperately wished to keep my mouth sealed.

"Angel," Sally approached me, her feigned concern poorly concealing her ulterior motives, "what are you saying? You want to leave Daddy?"

Make no mistake; Sally wasn't Dad's secret lover. She was just someone harboring ill wishes for my downfall.

"What are you saying?" Mustering an innocent act to rival hers. "I'm worried about Dad too. After all, where will his other dad and woman live if I stay?"

Was it a clever move? Definitely not.

It laid bare the reason for Mom's tragic end. Worse, Dad could manipulate medical statements, showing my psychological instability due to witnessing Mom's suicide, not that I have any medical conditions but still circumstances given, he can. He could argue that I fabricated memories in the shock's aftermath.

"What are you—"

"I have evidence." Now, the game truly commenced. My mom, despite her emotional instability and stress, persisted in collecting evidence. Strong proof of his infidelity.

In my previous life at the age of 23, I stumbled upon files revealing his calls, videos capturing his unholy deeds with the other woman—interestingly, the same woman who would become his second wife in a few months after moms death. However, such evidence held no value at that time.

I wondered why Mom chose to end her life despite diligently tracking his actions. Was there something I overlooked?

"What did you say?" Dad abandoned his spot, advancing towards me.

"Jonathan, please. How long will you keep pretending?" Some widened their eyes, registering the cultural breach as I addressed Dad by his name—an anomaly in Eastern customs.

"I also have evidence that you have another daughter of my age." No more playing the child act.

"This is interesting."

Finally! I turned to face Old Man Callisto, his imposing figure approaching with a cane.

Uncle made a side, making Old Man Callisto stand perfectly in front of me.

"Repeat."

"I have evidence," causing a stir among onlookers, some eager for more drama, others apprehensive about the impending turmoil. "Of everything. His infidelity. His other woman. His other daughter. Everything."

"Now, let the party begin." Old Man Callisto smirked, oblivious to Jonathan's expression, I walked and stood beside him. For some reason, excitement bubbled within me.

"I didn't know the mourning room was a party," a boy's voice interrupted. I turned to spot a boy with dark black eyes and hair, nonchalantly observing me. 

He seems familiar

He held a glass of juice, raising it in a gesture of cheers.

A prayer and condolences for mom finally began, making the room waiting for holy speech to send and rest her soul in peace and to heaven. In Old mans terms, the party has just begun.