The way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother - Chapter 22

Lant Agriche took considerable thought before marrying a woman. He rarely chose his wives simply for their beauty.

In fact, my mothers hardly had a single common denominator between them.

They ranged from fair-skinned blonds and brunettes local to our land to the distinct hazel eyes and copper skin from the nomadic tribes in the east. If my mother was as sweet and frail as a sheltered flower in a greenhouse, some of her other counterparts were more bloodthirsty than lions.

My father had a methodical way of torturing his enemies and did not mind the occasional blood splatter on his suit, but he never resulted to cannibalism.

Some of his wives were different. Over time, I developed a habit of asking Emily what the menu was prior to attending afternoon tea.

Initially, I thought my father was a bastard and wanted a taste of every different type of woman available to him.

At nine years old, when I had a disturbing overview of the reproductive system, I changed my mind.

Lant Agriche seemed to choose his women as if he were conducting genetic experiments. In a way, while choosing a wife, he was quite democratic. He disregarded the woman’s noble status, riches, or connections. If he found a woman with an interesting ability that could be imbibed into his future children, he took the woman back to his estate.

Opposition was entertainment. It was random as to which in-laws he kept alive.

My mother was one of his simple choices. She had no leadership skills or a mind for business. Father had met her at a party. With a mere smile, she had enraptured every man in the room. He saw her beauty as a tool. If he lusted for her as well, it was only a bonus. After they married, he sometimes took her as an ornament during his meetings. They made a dynamic impact together; my mother’s ethereal beauty distracting the heads of noble families, while my father clinched deals or spoke rapidly to win an argument.

Of course, it was sometimes refreshing to see my sweet and sheltered mother when I was surrounded by cannibals and maniacs, but her personality would never give her an advantage in this house.

She was a crutch. I had a filial obligation to her and realized since Asil’s death that she couldn’t take care of herself.

Perhaps it couldn’t be helped if Jeremy’s mother had feared her son. Jeremy’s dark, thick hair was the spitting image of Lant Agriche.

Asil and I were fortunate in that aspect. Our faces for the most part were undoubtedly inherited from our mother’s side. Asil’s genteel demeanor and light hair even reminded my mother affectionately of our maternal grandfather.

Would my mother hate us too, if we had inherited more of our father’s looks?

I was glad I couldn’t see my reflection now.

Lant Agriche had allowed me to live only because he saw my potential to lure shallow men with my looks.

My beauty kept me alive. Even so, today I didn’t want to see any trace of his red eyes or my mother’s bright complexion on me.

I wanted to forget my parents existed.

I bade goodbye to Jeremy at his door.

In earlier times, I would have entered his room and held his hand until he fell asleep. He was older now. It was enough that I had chosen him over my mother.

I bit my lip as I hurried to Cassis. I was developing some affection for my brother and it had to be stopped. He would never be my ally. I had seen him grow for the past fifteen years; I didn’t know if I had the capability to untwist his mind.

A darker fear flitted through my mind briefly.

Jeremy and I may have been born evil. We were tainted from the bloodline of Lant Agriche. Perhaps we shouldn’t be saved.

Unfortunately for everyone else, I could care less about the greater good. Self-preservation was all that mattered to me.