"Violet!"
I continued to read my book as I heard a familiar voice call my name.
"What is it? I'm busy."
I replied languidly. It will probably be something unimportant again. However, the footsteps got loud enough for me to realize she was actually running. I got up from my seat with knitted brows and a frown on my face. I was about to walk to the door with the book still in my hand, when my personal attendant came bursting the door open making a loud and annoying bang noise. My attendant almost stumbled to the floor, thank goodness she gained balance again. She placed her hands on her knees, bending her body slightly while trying to catch her breath.
"Violet!"
She yelled again, but this time I was right in front of her. There was no need to shout anymore, I'm right in front of her now! Why on Earth was she running to my bedroom like a galloping horse anyway?
"Yes. I'm in front of you now Olivia." I answered her.
"Violet! You need to come downstairs quickly!"
Her head jolted upright again after she regained her breath. A bead of sweat was running down her forehead and her brown hair that was tied up in a bun was messy.
"Why would I?"
I answered in a cocky manner with a smirk plastered on my face. It was always fun trying to annoy Olivia, well… I wouldn't take it too far. I don't want her to quit her job as my attendant.
"Violet! It's very important! Go to the living room now!"
"Fine, fine."
I raised both my hands up in the air as if I was a criminal caught red handed and was about to surrender herself to the police. I walked past Olivia and out my room slowly, like a lazy sloth.
Truth to be told, I don't want to go to the living room. All of the eyesores of this damn house are gathered there. My dad and his business associates sometimes gather there. My mom and her friends, who are sophisticated and graceful, usually hold their little tea parties there. Too bad all they can do is talk sh*t about someone. And lastly, that ugly statue of… Actually I don't know who that statue was built for…it's probably my great, great, great, great Grandfather. Anyway, I don't like that statue. It always looked gloomy, like it was looking down on me.
I descended the stairs slowly with one of my hands gliding the golden colored railing. The sounds of my footsteps against the steps of the staircase echoed through the entire space. The servants and maids were aligned neatly in a row on either side of the hallway leading to the living room. Something big is going on I suppose. They bowed their heads down slightly as a sign of respect as I walked past them with Olivia walking behind me. Some of the servants were looking at me with pitiful gazes while some did not even give an ounce of concern. It's not like I want them to look at me with kindness flowing out from their eyes. I actually prefer them this way, always professional and knows how to mind their own business.
The two servants who were guarding the door opened the entrance to the living room as soon as they noticed me. I proceeded to walk inside with an unamused face. The lush green leaves of the flowers were the ones to first welcome me. I walked past the fountain and went straight to the statue. Yes, the statue that I hated.
My parents and some other people were already gathered there, they did not even bother to sit on the couch. They remained standing, just like the statue behind them. Olivia continued to stand behind me with a serious expression.
"Violet." My dad started to talk.
I crossed my arms still with an unamused expression.
"What?" I answered.
"Did you have breakfast already sweetie?" My mom butted in the conversation.
Something's wrong here. She's acting too nice. She wouldn't normally ask if I had breakfast… Heck! She barely even talks to me! She's too busy for small talk between us!
"Yes. I already did." My eyes narrowed showing my suspicions of their actions.
"Sweetie, I heard you rejected the engagement offer form the eldest son of Eiran-"
"You have a problem with that?"
I cut her from speaking. Olivia's eyes widened but regained composure again. She was already used to me answering my parents like this, but knowing how good natured she is, she might scold me or give me a two hour lecture about adjusting my attitude towards my parents. It might sound rude for a daughter to cut her mother's statement, but believe me, it was just reflex. I don't want them to talk about engagement or marriage with them. It will always end up the same way. 'Why don't you accept his offer for engagement?'. That's the same question they ask me over and over and over again. I just don't want to be engaged with anybody. That's it. And wow are they eager to get me into an engagement with someone!
"Violet. You are about to turn nineteen. With that attitude of yours, I'm afraid you won't be engaged with anyone sooner or later. That is why… I will make the decisions from here on out. Your mother and I will decide on who you are going to be engaged with." The sternness of my father's voice rang through my head.