Chapter 2
Cordelia's POV
The moment the bell rang, I stood up.
Time to begin my performance.
"Ophelia." I walked toward her, my voice gentle as a spring breeze. "I'd like to properly introduce myself. I'm Cordelia Ashworth."
She looked up at me, surprise flickering in her eyes. Then came that cautious, probing expression—exactly like in my past life.
"Sis...sister?" Her voice trembled, as if she couldn't believe someone would actually approach her. "I thought... I thought you'd hate me..."
What perfect acting.
I reached out and gently took her hand. It was cold and soft, with a fragile quality to it.
"Why would I hate you?" I smiled warmly. "We're family, aren't we?"
Inside, I was sneering. Want to play games? I'll play along.
The students around us smiled with genuine warmth. This touching scene of sisterly reunion was so heartwarming.
"Really?" Tears shimmered in Ophelia's eyes. "I've been so worried... worried that you'd be unhappy about my existence..."
"Of course not." I gently stroked her hair. "I'll take good care of you."
The words nearly made me sick, but I had to keep up the act.
Lunchtime arrived.
I led Ophelia to the school dining hall. St. Catherine's Academy dining room resembled an upscale club more than a cafeteria—crystal chandeliers hung over white-clothed tables where uniformed students enjoyed refined afternoon tea.
"Wow..." Ophelia's eyes widened. "It's so beautiful..."
"You'll get used to it." I pulled out a chair for her. "What would you like to drink? The Earl Grey here is excellent."
"Earl Grey?" She looked nervous. "I... I've never had that kind of tea before..."
Such a perfect poverty backstory.
"No problem, I'll order for you." I signaled the server. "Two Earl Grey teas, please."
When the tea arrived, I knew the show was about to begin.
In my past life, this was when she would "accidentally" knock over my teacup. Then she'd apologize frantically, letting everyone see her nervousness and distress. If I showed any impatience, I'd be seen as an arrogant aristocrat bullying a poor illegitimate daughter.
Sure enough, as she reached for her teacup, she "accidentally" bumped mine.
Hot tea splashed toward my uniform.
But this time I was ready.
The instant the tea hit my clothes, I immediately grabbed a napkin from the table, elegantly dabbing at the stain while laughing lightly:
"Oops, no worries. I'm always this clumsy too."
I turned to Emma beside me: "Emma, could you grab me a spare uniform from my locker?"
"Of course!" Emma immediately stood up.
"I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to!" Ophelia jumped up frantically, tears in her eyes. "I... I was just so nervous..."
"It's really fine." I gently pressed her shoulder, making her sit back down. "Being nervous on your first day at a new school is completely normal. I spilled things on my first day too."
Students around us praised my tolerance and kindness.
I saw confusion flash in Ophelia's eyes.
Her little scheme hadn't achieved the desired effect. What should have made me appear cold and haughty instead became an opportunity to showcase my kindness.
"Cordelia is really so gentle..."
"Being so nice to her illegitimate sister, what a kind person..."
"Truly befitting the Duke's eldest daughter, such refined character..."
Hearing these compliments lifted my spirits considerably.
In my past life, you won the first round. But this time, victory was mine.
At ten PM, I returned home.
The Ashworth family estate sat on the outskirts of London, its ancient Victorian architecture appearing solemn and dignified in the moonlight. I pushed open the heavy oak doors to find the living room still lit.
Father sat on the sofa with Ophelia across from him.
She'd changed out of her uniform into a simple white dress. Her hair fell over her shoulders, making her look pitiful and vulnerable.
"Father." I approached and curtsied.
"Cordelia, you're home." Father's voice sounded warm. "Come sit down. I want to talk to you about Ophelia."
I sat beside Father, sensing a subtle shift.
Before, this seat was always reserved for me. Father would ask about my studies, listen to my stories about school.
But now, his attention was entirely focused on Ophelia.
"Ophelia told me you took good care of her at school today." Father nodded approvingly. "I'm pleased your are getting along so well."
"It's only natural." I maintained my smile. "We're family."
"Yes, family." Father repeated the word, then turned to Ophelia. "Child, don't feel any burden. This is your home, and Cordelia is your sister."
"Thank you, Father..." Ophelia said softly, tears in her eyes. "I never imagined... I'd have a family like this..."
Guilt flickered in Father's eyes.
"It's all my fault." He gently stroked Ophelia's hair. "I let you suffer all these years. From now on, I'll make it up to you."
Make it up to her?
I felt something breaking inside my chest.
"Cordelia." Father turned to me, his voice becoming serious. "Ophelia is new to the school and doesn't know anyone. I want you to look after her and help her adjust to the new environment."
"I will, Father."
"Also," Father continued, "if any classmates treat Ophelia unkindly, you must protect her. She's a member of the Ashworth family and shouldn't suffer any grievances."
I nodded, but my heart was bleeding.
In my past life, Father never spoke to me in such gentle tones. Even when I was wronged at school, he would only say coldly:
"The Ashworth heir shouldn't be so weak."
But now, he showed such tender care for Ophelia.
"Thank you for helping me at school today." Ophelia suddenly stood and bowed deeply to me. "I know my existence makes things difficult for you... but I'll try not to cause any trouble..."
Tears fell down her cheeks, making her look so helpless and heartbreaking.
Father immediately stood up with concern.
"Ophelia, don't say such things. You're my daughter, and you have every right to live here. No one has the right to make you feel unwelcome."
As he said this, his gaze briefly, meaningfully glanced at me.
I understood.
He was warning me not to bully Ophelia.
In my past life, I understood nothing and simply loved her as a sister. But now I realized that from the moment she stepped through our door, my position in Father's heart had already begun to waver.
Guilt is a powerful weapon.
And she wielded Father's guilt over his illegitimate daughter perfectly.
"It's getting late. You should both get some rest." Father stood up. "Ophelia, if you need anything, just tell the butler."
"Thank you, Father."
After Father went upstairs, only Ophelia and I remained in the living room.
She wiped away her tears and suddenly looked up at me.
In that instant, I saw her true expression.
No longer pitiful and vulnerable, but the smugness of a victor.
Then she turned and went upstairs, leaving me alone in the empty living room.
I clenched my fists.
In my past life, this was how you gradually stole Father's affection. You made him believe I was jealous of you, that I bullied you, until he finally abandoned me completely.
But this time was different.
I would make you watch as everything you carefully constructed crumbled before your eyes.
Just like you did to me.
