Silence was as loud as the tension that was bulging. Aemir was hunched over the dining table, his eyes ferocious as he stared down at his plate. A fork in one hand, a knife in the other. The sausage embodied his foe, the behemoth, but now he was the intimidating one. Then the battle began.
Gina Tyr was silent, her eyes sneaking towards her father, wondering what made him so broody this early. But she was already used to his tantrums. It was as if his anger was stuck in his throat, burning and searing it like vomit did to a bad drinker rushing to vomit far away to save their face.
The onslaught continued. Aemir's knife was surgical and precise as it diced up the meat into small bite-sized pieces. There was some elegance in the way he cut it—a technique he believed only he had mastered. Once done, he began stuffing them into his mouth. This part lacked the elegance he had displayed before. It was a form of savagery meant for beasts of the wild.
Then it happened. Just like his anger, the sausage he was shoving down his throat got stuck, probably right above his anger. He was starting to choke, and unlike his anger, the sausage sought to take his life, not drain that of those around him as his anger did.
Gina's facial veil saved her. She was struggling to hold back her laughter. The guards posted in the room jumped to his rescue on cue from the yelling baroness—her mother. She trapped the laughter within herself with a manageable piece of bread.
Aemir almost died twice in one morning, but the sausage was looking far more ruthless than the behemoth. In his opinion, it was quickly sniffing out his life faster than the behemoth ever could. The guard wrapped his hands around the giant belly, trying as hard as he could to pump the sausage out of his master's chest. It was not working, so he braced his hands. Ether snaked into his hand, reinvigorating them. His strength doubled. The guard let out a low growl, giving his all to save his baron—and he finally did.
Gina watched as the pieces of sausage shot out with strands of saliva trailing behind them. They splattered onto the table grossly. Her father found his footing, his face red, with blobs of saliva clinging for dear life to the edge of his mouth. The baroness rushed to her husband, a tablecloth in hand. As she wiped the drool off him, Aemir flushed with embarrassment. Soon after, his nose flared, and the repressed anger erupted.
"Unhand me, woman!" he bellowed, but his wife continued.
"I said unhand me!" Aemir shoved her away from him, turning to the staff who were watching before quickly averting their eyes to admire the tasteful wall decorations of the castle. Gina was ahead of them, eyes down on her food. But she could not hold it in any longer, and a muffled gag escaped.
Oh, fuck, she thought to herself.
Aemir traced the sound to her and stared at her with predatory eyes. Even she dares mock me? My own blood? He quickly paced toward her. He could handle embarrassment from The Moraigh or even the sausage but never someone who came from his balls not now not ever.
Gina was ready to bear the consequences. She knew her father hated being looked down upon. There were some hanging skeletons on the city walls to match this. She presumed he would not kill her but he knew he would not be kind with words.
She stood before her father. She had inherited her mother's height and only that. She lacked her mother's figure and bosom, which gave her mother an uncanny charm borne by noblewomen of her family.
Aemir's hand landed resoundingly on his daughter's face, his fat fingers plastering red marks on her skin.
Luckily, the marks were hidden from plain sight by her veil. She was used to harsh remarks, not physical attacks. From her father, she had inherited his temper but had the temperament to control it. She was shuddering in anger.
Aemir could not see beneath the veil, mistaking her anger for crying.
"You think your father dying is funny?" Gina remained silent. It happened again, another smack, this time just above her left cheek.
"I asked you a question!" His voice was firmer and more authoritative.
"No, Father."
"Then why did you do it?" Gina could only answer with deafening silence. She slightly winced, waiting for her punishment, but it never came.
"Or is it because, finally, I was as disgusting as you are?" Aemir watched his daughter's slight shuddering evolve into a full-blown tremble. He reached for her veil, lifting it for everyone to see her face.
It was not as bad as Aemir said, but her face had a stark difference compared to before. She had been tempted by power—the sweet whispers of promise. Promises to stand over all those who looked down on her. She had listened to them, indulging further into their depictions. It left scars that robbed her of her future—or so her family thought.
Aemir was smiling sadistically as he took apart his daughter before his subjects. He never loved her and probably never would. He grabbed her by the mouth, his fingers pressing into her pulsing cheek. He stared up at her red eyes burning with anger, tears balancing on her eyelids—and then he nudged her.
"If it were not for me, you would be out there, in the streets. With this face of yours that even your mother does not love, you would die because nobody would want you. So now, be a good girl and go up to your room. And when you are ready, come and apologize for this indiscretion."
After Aemir released her, Gina wore her veil and left. Her brain felt numb. Unable to think. Unable to process the pain. Her father had never wanted daughters, but he was okay with her existence when her brothers were alive. After their deaths, it began—the constant snide comments. Today, he outdid himself.
The servants paved the way as she passed. Each had a different expression plastered on their faces. Some were sad; most were pitiful. Gina could feel their stares as they escorted her until she reached her room. She was never used to the stares, and their pity disgusted her. The swell of pitiful gazes that accompanied her everywhere had driven her to seek power in the first place. Despite everyone thinking she had failed, her body brimming with mana said otherwise. She wafted her hand dismissively, but the action invoked the chaotic magic within the world of Orion, and with it, the door closed itself