CHAPTER 32: VEYRA SAID...

Rakan looked at me, speechless but more hurt than shocked, as if my words had stabbed him.

Then, he slowly lowered his head and said,

"I have once again wronged my daughter."

Sure, you can’t change a man completely in just one day. The scale of my image might’ve tilted to the right side for once, but it doesn’t mean that it can’t tilt back to the bad side with a little bit of pressure and influence from the fakest of the fake.

Just one word from that cunning and manipulative bitch is enough to tilt the scale and make them see me in the wrong once more.

That’s all it takes.

So I don’t know who to blame right now. If it’s me for not having the thought of uprooting Veyra and her schemes so I can live a peaceful life with my handsome beastmen earlier, or my father, who falls for the same trick ten times.

"Yes," I responded to him. "You have hurt this daughter, not once, not twice, and not thrice, and I don’t see the end. So I’m wondering if I should just give up trying to convince my father that everything that comes with an accusation needs evidence, a proof of guilt, or if I should just leave the tribe that looks at me as a burden and a criminal." I looked deep into his eyes the sharp resentment lingering in my soul piercing right through his pupils.

Will he know? Of course, he won’t.

How exactly will he know that the way he treated his daughter, his innocent daughter, led her to her death in a quiet and beautiful meadow?

Who’s gonna tell him? Not me, that’s for sure.

As if Fenric had been waiting for my words he suddenly wrapped his arm around my neck, roughly pulling me close and claimed,

"The Crysthorn tribe will be more than happy to accept Arinya."

I looked at him. He really wanted to take me in, huh?

Well, it’s not a bad idea.

Although, I don’t know how well this body can survive in a continuous season of winter.

So I’ll leave that idea aside until I’ve gotten good at making clothes and make myself a winter outfit.

"You heard that, chief?" I asked. "You’re about to lose one of your tribe members because you don’t fight fair."

"That’s not true, Arinya." He said, desperation flooding his face. "You can’t leave." He said.

"Why can’t I?" I asked. "So you can keep hurting me?"

"It’s not..." He paused, as if unable to say more, and clenched his fists. "It’s just everything seems clear." He said. "There’s no way to doubt it when Veyra says it happens because it’s clear."

I frowned even deeper, my eyebrows knitting together.

Yeah, it’s clear to simple brains since they can’t think intricately with their uncivilized brains.

Just because you find a peach growing on an apple tree, you immediately take it as it is because it’s a fruit tree, not bothering to know what caused it, why such a thing happened, or who might be responsible.

That’s the kind of thinking they employ. And it’s the kind that Veyra always manipulates on her whim.

She’s smart. Too smart.

To the point that I wonder if she’s a transmigrator like me, because the Veyra in my book only cared about food, and men, confident in her body and face, so no one could steal any of her men.

But this Veyra cares about making her sister hated, plays tricks, acts gentle all while scheming against anyone who seems to be getting even a little bit more attention than her.

I hate her.

I hate her so much that I want to rip her to shreds but let’s put that off for now.

There’s always a way to deal with the fakers. For now, I’ll just do what I want.

"I won’t try to convince you anymore, Chief. If you always believe Veyra, then there’s nothing I can do. But think of this," I turned, glancing over my shoulder at him. "...I always get in trouble because Veyra says something about me."

I turned my face away from him.

"Let’s go, Fenric."

I don’t care if he can figure it out or not. I’ve said my piece. If he wants to keep being a fool to his smart daughter then that was on him.

He might push his own tribe to the maids just because ’Veyra said...’

Fenric looked at me. I wanted to ignore it, but he was staring for way longer than he should have.

"What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?" I asked but he shook his head.

"No, you’re just really smart." He said.

"Obviously."

"And strong too." He added but that made me halt on my steps.

He noticed I had stopped and stopped as well, looking at me from ahead.

"What?" He asked, wondering why I had stopped but I lowered my head.

"Yeah, I am strong." Strong at heart, that is.

I’ve always been strong at heart, knowing I can’t dominate the role of a side character, so nothing they say gets to me and melts me away.

But not Arinya.

She might’ve been strong on the outside, but her heart was weak... Craving for what every other person had... A person on her side at all times.

That weak heart died very quickly.

I pressed my hand on my chest and then scoffed.

"Let’s just leave it at that." I picked up my steps again and walked past him. "But I’m not just strong, I’m wise and incredible."

"Yes, yes, you’re wise and incredible." He said, clapping his hand and I flipped my hair, taking in his praise. "By the way, my father brought something like a gift."

"Hm? What gift?" I asked but he shrugged his shoulders.

"We don’t know what it is. It’s a large white rock that keeps falling apart if you scrape on it." He said and my eyes widened. "Do you think our wise and incredible Arinya will know what it is?"

Is it what I think it is? I don’t want to say it can’t be because I’d rather wish it were and put my hopes up.

And fortunately, it was.

What the snow tigers brought as a gift, not even knowing the value or what it was... Was salt.

A huge freaking rock or salt.