Chapter 173: What is Family? [5]

"And that’s everyone."

Mikhail threw the last sheet back onto the table, breathing heavily after going through name after name.

"There. You wanted to know who actually did those things to your precious friends? Now you know. Go find them, threaten them, beat them up for all I care, but don’t stand there and pretend I personally did everything that happened to them."

"...."

Ilya looked down at the documents.

There were more names than he cared to count, but what bothered him most was how easily Mikhail had gone through them.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Ilya asked. "Does the word accountability mean nothing to you?"

"...What the hell are you saying now?" Mikhail stared at him incredulously. "I didn’t do it, so I didn’t do it. Fuck, is that so hard to understand?"

"This is stupid."

Whatever kind of education Mikhail had received growing up, Ilya had more or less given up on trying to reason with him.

It was like speaking to a toddler who believed that as long as someone else’s hand had broken the vase, there was absolutely no reason to question the person who had handed it to them and spent the entire time watching.

Ilya sighed.

"Anastasiya, did you hear all that?"

Thud!

"Fuck!"

A sudden curse came from beneath the table, followed immediately by a loud thud as someone apparently struck their head against the underside of it.

A moment later, Anastasiya crawled out while rubbing the top of her head with one hand, her face twisted in irritation as she glared first at the table and then at Ilya.

"The nerve of you to have me hide under the table."

"L-Lady Anastasiya...?"

Whatever anger had remained on Mikhail’s face vanished as he looked at Anastasiya with a mixture of fear and disbelief, his eyes moving between her and the space beneath the table as he slowly understood what had just happened.

If he could still scrape together enough courage to shout and curse in front of Ilya, then standing before Anastasiya was different, because among the current generation of Belozerskys, there was no one’s judgment he had more reason to fear than hers.

She was the heir.

Unless something changed, Anastasiya Valentinovna Belozerskaya would eventually inherit the Northern Grand Duchy, and every branch house that currently answered to her father would one day be expected to answer to her instead.

The Volnograds were no exception.

Mikhail’s father might have been the Margrave of Volnograd, and Mikhail himself might have had enough status to surround himself with the children of influential noble houses, but none of that changed the fact that his family stood below the Grand Ducal Household.

Of all the young Belozerskys currently alive, Anastasiya’s words carried the greatest weight within that hierarchy, and one day her decisions could directly affect the future of every branch family.

And she had apparently been underneath the table for the entire conversation.

Mikhail’s face slowly lost its color.

"How... how long have you been there?"

Anastasiya finally stopped rubbing her head.

"Are you an idiot? The whole time, obviously."

"...."

Mikhail swallowed.

"L-Lady Anastasiya, I can explain."

"You’ve been explaining for quite a while."

"T-That’s not what I meant. Cousin Ilya was deliberately provoking me, and I became emotional, so some of the things I said came out wrong..."

Ilya raised an eyebrow.

"They sounded pretty clear to me."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Mikhail snapped toward him before immediately realizing what he had done.

Anastasiya’s eyes narrowed.

"...F-Forgive me."

Ilya nearly laughed.

Only a few moments ago, Mikhail had been screaming at him, jabbing fingers in his direction, and throwing curses around as though they were still children arguing in a courtyard.

Yet the moment Anastasiya appeared, all that confidence had disappeared so thoroughly that Ilya almost found the transformation impressive.

Anastasiya stepped closer to the table and picked up one of the documents.

"So let me make sure I understand."

"...."

"You had the nerve to throw the Belozersky name around until you made it a laughingstock among the first years, while I’ve spent this entire year making sure that same name commands the respect it deserves throughout this academy?"

Mikhail’s face stiffened.

"L-Lady Anastasiya, that’s not what I intended."

"I don’t care what you intended."

That shut Mikhail up.

"I don’t care if you hate him. I don’t care if you’ve hated him since you were five, and I certainly don’t care about whatever pathetic grudge made you feel better whenever someone laughed at him."

Anastasiya tossed the document back onto the table.

"What I care about is that you dragged Belozersky into it."

"...."

"Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to uphold a name like ours?"

Mikhail swallowed.

Since the beginning of the academic year, Anastasiya had done everything expected of someone who would one day inherit the Northern Grand Duchy.

She had established herself at the top of the Knight Department’s third years, carried herself as the heir wherever she went, and made certain that whenever students spoke of Anastasiya Belozerskaya, there was never any question about the strength of the family behind that name.

To her, those accomplishments had never belonged entirely to herself.

"You think I push myself this hard because I need everyone here to know Anastasiya is strong?" Anastasiya continued. "I’m the heir to the Northern Grand Duchy. Everything I do reflects on House Belozersky."

Mikhail lowered his gaze.

"When I succeed, people remember which family I came from. If I disgrace myself, they’ll remember the same thing." Anastasiya stepped closer to him. "That’s the responsibility that comes with carrying this family’s name."

"L-Lady Anastasiya, I understand that."

"No. You clearly don’t."

Mikhail flinched.

"If you understood it, you wouldn’t have spent this year giving every bored noble brat in the academy stories about the Grand Duke’s useless son."

Anastasiya’s voice grew harsher.

"While I was making certain the Belozersky name was above theirs, you were teaching the same people that there was a Belozersky they were free to laugh at."

"...."

"Do you understand how insulting that is?"

Anastasiya struck the documents lightly with the back of her fingers.

"I don’t care that you dislike Ilya. He’s perfectly capable of dealing with his own personal problems, and if this were nothing more than two cousins who couldn’t stand each other, I wouldn’t involve myself."

She looked directly at Mikhail.

"But you made our family part of it."