Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others

After getting ready for the day, Hermia descended the grand staircase, her simple crop top and shorts a sharp contrast to the ornate surroundings of the Blackwood estate. 

The floor gleamed under the early sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the grandeur did little to lighten her mood. 

'Beautiful morning!' she mused.

Then she took a deep breath, willing her spine to remain straight and her composure intact as she entered the dining room.

The table was already set, laden with silver platters and an assortment of breakfast options that looked more suited for a royal banquet than a family of four. 

Despite the tension she felt, the effects of her morning bath still lingered, leaving her a bit more at ease.

She forced a small smile as she approached the table. "Good morning, Dad. Good morning," she greeted, her voice soft but steady.

The silence that followed wasn't unexpected. Her father, Godfrey Blackwood, didn't even glance at her, his attention fixed on his newspaper. 

Her stepmother, Mariela, idly stirred her tea, her expression unreadable as always.

"I see you joined the table quite early today," Mariela finally said, her tone smooth but laced with mockery. "You must be hungry."

Hermia felt her stomach twist. She sighed inwardly, knowing the script by heart. 

If she arrived late, she'd be branded disrespectful and arrogant. If she was early, it was apparently a sign of desperation.

You can't win with them, can you? she thought bitterly, biting back a retort.

Unfortunately, Mariela wasn't wrong. She was hungry. She hadn't eaten since the cold fries she'd scavenged for lunch the day before. 

She opened her mouth to reply but was saved by Selena's dramatic entrance.

"Hey, Mom, I'm starving! I couldn't even sleep," Selena's voice rang out as she breezed into the room, her honey-blonde curls bouncing with each step.

Mariela's face immediately softened into a loving smile. "Come, my sweet," she cooed. "Bring the food!" she barked sharply at the waiting staff, her voice snapping like a whip.

The butler and maids appeared instantly, moving with practiced precision to set the table. 

Platters of scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and warm pastries were laid out, along with a steaming pot of coffee.

As they began to eat, the silence was broken only by Selena's occasional remarks, each one dripping with entitlement.

"God, this toast is too hard," Selena whined, inspecting it like it was an offense to her existence.

"You shouldn't complain to me, darling," Mariela said sweetly, though her indulgent smile undermined the reprimand.

Selena smirked and turned her attention to their father. She leaned slightly toward him, her voice softening. "Dad, are you sure you don't want me to go over to the office with you and have a few drinks with Mr Antione? I could help."

"No, thank you, I'd always call you if I needed you," Godgrey said.

Hermia kept her head down, chewing methodically. 

She knew what Selena was doing—trying to highlight her closeness to their father while simultaneously reminding Hermia of her position as an afterthought.

Let her have it, Hermia thought, focusing on her food. It's not like he cares about me anyway.

But then something unexpected happened. Godfrey cleared his throat, the sound sharp and commanding. 

The room fell silent as he folded his newspaper and addressed them.

"Tonight," he began, his deep voice echoing in the spacious dining room, "I'll be flying out for a business proposal. In my absence, I want Selena and Hermia to represent me at a function."

The clink of Mariela's teaspoon hitting her saucer was loud in the stillness that followed.

"What?" Mariela said sharply, her usual composure cracking. "Why can't you attend yourself?"

Godfrey didn't flinch at her tone. "I won't be here. That is why," he replied.

Mariella pressed her lips together, "Your assistant or someone else could go, no?"

Godfrey sighed, "This is non-negotiable. Both of them will go."

Hermia blinked, her mind racing. 

Both of us? 

Was she hearing correctly? 

Her father had never included her in anything—not a conversation, not a decision, and certainly not a family responsibility.

Selena's expression darkened. "Dad, I don't think I want to be seen with Hermia again, dad, she's always so—"

"You don't need to think or want," Godfrey interrupted, his voice cold and final. "This isn't up for discussion."

"But, darling—" Mariela started, her voice a mix of coaxing and irritation.

"Enough, Mariela," Godfrey said firmly. "The matter is settled."

Hermia glanced up, stunned. 

Was this real? 

Was she finally being acknowledged, even in a small way? 

A tentative smile began to form on her lips, a tiny spark of hope igniting in her chest.

Selena, however, wasn't as gracious. She glared at Hermia as if this was somehow her fault.

"This is ridiculous," Selena muttered under her breath, stabbing at her eggs with unnecessary force.

"Watch your tone," Godfrey said, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel.

Mariela, ever the actress, smoothed her expression into a placid smile, though her eyes glinted with displeasure. "Of course, dear. If that's what you want."

Hermia barely heard the rest of the conversation. Her thoughts were swirling. 

He wants me to go. He wants me to represent him. The idea was foreign and exhilarating.

Her heart swelled with cautious optimism as she resolved to do her best tonight.

Godfrey finished his meal in silence, dabbing his lips with a linen napkin before standing. His tall frame exuded authority as he adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit. 

Without a word, he turned and strode out of the dining room.

Mariela rose immediately, her chair scraping softly against the polished marble floor. She cast a quick glance at Hermia and Selena, her expression unreadable, before following her husband. 

The sound of her heels echoed as she disappeared into the hall.

The tension left behind was suffocating.

Selena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table in a way that would have earned her a scolding if her mother had still been present. 

Her narrowed eyes fixed on Hermia like a hawk sizing up its prey.

"You're not going tonight," Selena said bluntly, her voice laced with disdain.