Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 352

Daph clung to Selene’s hand with both of her tiny fists, her cheeks puffed out with indignation. “I want you to write an apology letter to my mom!” she demanded.

“In your dreams,” Clarissa shot back, her glare sharp as a knife.

But Daph didn’t back down; if anything, her resolve only intensified. “And I want you to read that apology out loud to everyone at the school festival—right on stage!”

Clarissa let out a low, bitter laugh that rattled in her chest.

Drawing a deep breath to tamp down the anger threatening to burst free, she crouched down, adopting a patronizing tone as if teasing a child. “Sure, sure. If you want me to stand on stage in front of everyone and read your mom an apology, you’ll have to win first prize at the festival, won’t you? Only if you’re up there accepting the top award do you get to invite me up. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Rage and mockery warred inside Clarissa, leaving her hot and cold all at once.

Gwyneth had slapped her across the face just moments earlier, and to Clarissa, that was a humiliation she could swallow—barely. But being forced to write some groveling apology letter? That was a humiliation she would never accept, especially coming from a five-year-old. She’d rather eat glass.

She sneered at Selene. “If little Dafina Thompson manages to take first place at the festival, I’ll be so impressed by the two of you I’ll fall at your feet. I’ll write the best apology you’ve ever seen! But whether I do it on stage for everyone to hear, well, that’s up to your performance, isn’t it?”

The only reason she could make such a boast was because, in her mind, there was no chance in hell Daph could pull it off. One little girl against the whole school—there was no way she’d even make it onto the program, let alone win.

Clarissa ran her mouth like there was no tomorrow, confident her promise would never have to be fulfilled.

Selene saw right through her. She knew Clarissa’s game: not only was a handwritten apology out of the question, but the idea of Clarissa ever bowing her head and sincerely apologizing—even verbally—was laughable.

But Daph beat her to it. “I’m going to be in the festival! I’m going to perform on stage!” she declared, clutching her determination close, vowing silently that this time, she would win—she had to, for her mom.

Selene rested her hands gently on Daph’s shoulders and addressed Clarissa calmly. “You should start drafting that apology letter. As for Daph’s performance, you don’t need to worry about it.”

She tilted her head, her voice warm but edged with steel. “I’m looking forward to reading your apology, Clarissa.”

Clarissa’s breath hitched. In the Vaughn family, Selene always acted above her station. Even now, after clawing her way up from nothing, she dared to look Clarissa in the eye, as if they were equals.

But with Gwyneth watching, Clarissa dared not show her true colors. She forced a brittle smile and turned to Gwyneth. “Ms. Lockridge, it’s not that I don’t want to apologize to Selene—it’s just that she refused my verbal apology…”

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