After her conversation with Katelyn, Amelie entered the living room, where Mabel had just settled gracefully onto the couch.
"I was about to send a servant to your room," Mabel remarked as one of the maids stepped forward, lowering a tray onto the low table. With practiced care, the servant placed a delicate porcelain cup of herbal tea in front of Amelie.
"Drink it. You’ll feel refreshed," Mabel encouraged with a gentle smile. Her eyes lingered on Amelie’s dress, silently pleased with how beautifully it complemented her. No wonder Gabriel had expressed his gratitude.
"Thank you, Mother," Amelie said softly. She lifted the cup, exhaling a faint breath across its steaming surface before taking a careful sip.
Mabel raised her own teacup and took a measured drink. Then, setting it down with a soft clink, she studied Amelie’s expression. "You seem troubled," she observed, her voice calm yet probing. "What weighs on your mind?"
Amelie’s gaze dropped to the rippling surface of her tea. "It’s about my sister," she confessed. "She’s being treated harshly in her workplace. I understand it’s because of her past actions, but it feels wrong. At the end of the day, she’s still human... she also wants to live."
Mabel listened in silence, then allowed a faint smile to curve her lips. She took another sip before placing her cup neatly back onto its saucer.
"She must carry the burden of the sin she committed against you," Mabel replied. "That is the price she has to pay. Besides..." Her eyes softened. "Was this not what you wanted? She never once stood by your side. After the way your family doubted your character, I had no great expectations of them. They changed because Alex tried to kill them too."
That was the harsh truth. Yet Amelie knew there was more buried beneath Mabel’s words.
"Mother," she began carefully, her voice tinged with unease, "they confronted Alex about it when my father realized what the truth was. I know I shouldn’t defend them. I cut every tie with them for my own peace. But..." She hesitated, her eyes softening with conflicting emotions. "You once advised me to make amends. And they did try, tried to reach me, to win back my heart."
She sighed, lowering her cup back onto the table with a faint clink. Her shoulders slumped as if carrying a weight too heavy for her to bear alone.
"But that’s not the point, Mother. What I’m trying to say is that people are always cruel. They were cruel to me when I had done nothing wrong. And now Flora—" her voice broke, trembling as though the name itself carried a wound. "She only wants to live, so why can’t they just let her? What if she... what if she takes a step she can’t return from? What if..."
The words trailed off, unfinished, swallowed by the heaviness in her throat.
Mabel’s gaze softened, though her composure never wavered. She reached for her cup again, sipping slowly before answering.
"I do not believe Flora is so fragile," she said. "If she has endured this treatment for so many months, then she will endure until others tire of their cruelty and finally see her as she is, a woman who simply wants to survive. You cannot live her life for her, Amelie. Nor can you shield her from every shadow. Let her bear it, and let her prove herself. Sometimes," she added gently, "the greatest kindness is to step aside and allow someone to grow stronger on their own."
Unnoticed until now, Gabriel quietly walked in, having caught the final exchange. His eyes moved to his mother’s calm face.
He had always known his mother to be sharp, even stern, but the wisdom in her words in the morning made him happy. Silently, he appreciated the restraint she had shown, guiding Amelie without encouraging her to interfere with Flora’s fate.
Amelie turned her head upon sensing Gabriel’s presence.
"Your coffee got cold," Mabel said. "Should I ask the maid to prepare another cup for you?"
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