Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 473: Chapter 473: Sunday’s Night

Chapter 473 – Sunday’s Night

The students of the Elysia Academy were getting ready to go back to the Academy.

It was now Sunday night, and across the kingdom, each of them was going through the same process.

Jeanne Safara, however, was different.

Her mother, Beatrice, had sent her to the Academy on Saturday night, after tending to her wounds.

Her excuse was one Jeanne had heard countless times throughout her life.

At first, it had been soothing to know that at least her mother was with her. But after years and years of ’I am sorry’ with nothing ever done to stop being sorry... Jeanne Safara had simply lost all faith and hope in her mother, and in anyone else in this world.

However, that was not quite true.

There was one person Jeanne Safara leaned on in the dark times that were her life. A person she desperately needed after going through such an intense beating at her own father’s hands.

So when her mother sent her to the Academy, Jeanne Safara went her own way and rented a hotel room close to his home.

She hesitated for a long time, wondering whether it was a good choice, but before she knew it, Jeanne found herself in front of a house on that Sunday night, around 8 p.m.

Her face was bruised, and her eyes were still slightly red from her father’s attack. Her lips were quite swollen, and she knew it was not the best state in which to knock on someone’s door, but she had no choice.

She needed this.

And she needed it desperately, so as not to be consumed by the thought of ending this nightmare that was her life.

So Jeanne lifted her shaking hand, curled into a fist, and knocked on the door three even times. Her hand fell back down, a bit too fast perhaps, earning her a grimace.

She waited patiently, restlessly scratching her right elbow.

Fortunately, Jeanne didn’t have to wait long before the door opened, revealing a large man, thick with muscle, his skin brown and polished.

Jeanne had to crane her neck to see him properly.

And the moment she did, she instantly saw the resemblance.

’He looks so much like Omm. Is that his father?’

"Yes, young lady?" the man said, his voice sweeter than she had expected, tilting his head gently to one side. "Do you need something?"

Jeanne gathered herself and nodded, scratching her elbow a bit faster. "I am sorry to disturb you at this hour, but, uhm, is Omm here?" She tried to smile, but was unable to even force her face to do so. So she settled for an ugly grimace. "I am his... friend. And, uhm, I was wondering if he is ready to go to the Academy with me. If not, I can wait until tom—!"

"Oh! You are my son’s friend?!" The big man rumbled with joy. He instantly flung the door wide open, stepping to one side and letting Jeanne peek inside. "You should have said so from the very beginning! Come on, young girl! Come! We were just getting ready for dinner!"

"Uh? Oh no, no, no!" Jeanne shook her head and waved her hands in surprised refusal. "I don’t want to trespass, sir! I can wait for Omm here! I am not in a rush!"

"What do you mean, trespassing?" He arched a thick eyebrow. "Aren’t you Omm’s friend?"

"Uh, well, yes?"

"Then you are not trespassing! Come on! Or do you want me to pick you up and shove you inside?" He grinned, obviously joking, and that sight made Jeanne’s heart beat faster.

He looked so much like Omm. Even their warm smiles were the same, impossible to miss.

Still, Jeanne hesitated, thinking she was truly trespassing.

"Why are you still at the door, Ali?" a voice suddenly bellowed. Jeanne turned her head and saw a beautiful woman in a long, flowery dress appear from deeper inside the house, holding a plate of food.

Seeing her, the woman paused. "Oh, who is this?"

"Omm’s friend," Ali replied. "I invited her to dinner, but she said she doesn’t want to—!"

However, the woman, whom Jeanne guessed was Omm’s mother, was no longer listening.

Her eyes brightened like stars on a moonless night, and she put the food down on the counter beside her before immediately rushing towards Jeanne.

Jeanne didn’t even have the chance to take a step back before the woman grabbed her hand, firmly, yet with care.

"You are my son’s friend?" she said with enthusiasm. "I have never met any of his friends, even though he brags a lot about having them! I am so happy you are here!"

"Huh... yes. But I—!"

"No buts!" the woman cut her off before gently pulling her inside the house. "Omm is in the kitchen cooking. You came at just the right time. He must be done by now and setting the table for dinner!"

Instantly, Jeanne’s reservations flew out the window. "Omm can cook?"

"Of course, yes," his mother said with a joyful laugh as the two entered the dining room, Ali following behind with a booming laugh after closing the door. "Omm learned to cook because we were rarely home when he was young. I can say he is better than me."

"Better than you?" Omm said, standing behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, looking at his parents, then at Jeanne. "How can I be better than you? I can only cook three recipes, mother."

"Leave your mother be, son," Ali laughed. "She just wanted to show you in a good light in front of your friend."

"He is so dense sometimes, Ali. Just like you," his mother said, and before Jeanne knew it, she was sitting in a chair at the dining table.

As if somehow coordinated, Omm placed a plate of food in front of her, though she had no idea what it was made of, then sat in the chair beside her, as if not at all surprised to see her there.

Everything happened so fast that Jeanne was still struggling to wrap her mind around what was going on.

And Omm could clearly see it as he laughed awkwardly. "I am so sorry for my parents’ behavior. I guess they never believed me when I said I had friends, so they acted like this towards you."

"Oh? N-No, it’s fine." Jeanne shook her head. "I should be the one apologizing. It was stupid of me to come at this hour."

’So stupid!’

"It’s alright," Omm said gently, smiling at her.

He gestured towards his parents, who were sitting in front of them, side by side, their faces holding an ever-present smile.

Not the cynical or hypocritical kind of smile Jeanne was used to.

But one of warmth and love.

"Mother, father, this is Jeanne," Omm introduced. "A good friend of mine." Then he looked at Jeanne, pointing at his parents. "This is my mother, Maryam, and my father, Ali."

"Nice to meet you, Jeanne," Maryam said warmly.

"I am happy to meet a friend of my son," Ali followed.

Jeanne nodded awkwardly. "I am... happy too. Sorry again for the late visit."

"Oh, it’s alright." Maryam shook her head. "We are always happy to meet someone so important in our son’s life."

"And besides," Ali added, "we were just talking about how Omm was doing at school. He told us his story, but Omm has always been rather curt when it comes to storytelling. He doesn’t seem to understand that to tell a proper story, you need to give details, even the ones that don’t matter."

He laughed, and surprisingly, they all laughed along with him.

"Maybe you can satisfy our curiosity," Ali continued. "However, before any of that, and I apologize in advance if I’m overstepping, but..."

Ali slowly cocked his head, looking at Jeanne with concern.

"...are you alright, little Jeanne?"

And it wasn’t only him. Even Maryam and Omm were looking at her with concern.

Not pity, Jeanne realized.

But genuine concern about how she had come to have all those wounds.

She hadn’t expected to find herself in such a situation when she decided to come here.

And so the Heiress of Safara didn’t know how to react when faced with the concern of people who had only just come to know her, yet were looking at her with more warmth than her own father had ever shown her.

Her heart grew heavy, and she lowered her head, barely managing to hold back her tears.

"I... I am... I..." she began to stutter again, and instinctively, as though afraid that a blow would strike her face if she didn’t answer quickly enough, Jeanne tried to force the words out faster, only to fail miserably. "I-I am..."

"Hey," Ali spoke, and Jeanne abruptly fell silent, flinching at his voice. She lifted her head, little tears already escaping her eyes, and saw a faint smile on the big man’s face. "Don’t force yourself to speak faster."

Maryam gently pushed a glass of water toward her.

"Just breathe and speak at your own pace," Ali continued. "We have all night to listen. And if you need more time, we’ll still wait."

"And if you’re not ready," Maryam added, "we’ll drop the matter. But tell us if you need any Healing Potions or bandages. I can help you with that, dear."

Jeanne looked at them blankly, completely stunned by their reactions.

She slowly turned her head toward Omm and saw the handsome young man looking at her with a faint smile.

"I think the same as my parents. But before any of that..." Omm pointed at the plate of food in front of her. "Taste what I cooked and tell me what you think. Be gentle with me, though I can take harsh criticism."

Jeanne Safara didn’t say anything for a good couple of seconds, words failing her completely.

But she didn’t need to.

Her eyes were doing all the talking, and, to her shame, they were already blurring with tears.

—End of Chapter 473—