Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Eileen also noticed that the Navarre sisters ate very little.

She didn't say anything, but with six six-week-old chicks, she managed to get a bag of wheat in exchange. She first took great effort to pound off the bran, then ground it into flour.

Mitchell's had a mill, but this tiny amount of wheat wasn't even enough to fill the gaps in the large grindstone.

So, Eileen used a hand-cranked grinder, working the entire night, and sieved the flour several times until it was fine.

By the next morning, when the Navarre sisters came downstairs, there was white bread on the Mitchell's dining table.

Anna was delighted, thanking Mrs. Mitchell repeatedly for her concern.

Catherine was also pleased, but still, a lot of food remained on her plate.

Even Anna couldn't help but take her sister back to the room where she asked with suppressed anger, "What? It doesn't suit your taste?"

"Although it's still a bit coarse," Catherine replied with a light smile, not realizing why her sister was so serious, "it's much better than before. I can barely swallow it."

"Then why did you leave so much?"

Catherine answered matter-of-factly, "I can't possibly eat it all, can I?"

Anna sighed, took her sister's hand, and asked, "Do you think Mrs. Mitchell is good to us?"

"Very good."

"What about the others?"

"They are also quite good, I guess."

"Why are they good to us?"

Catherine was stumped by this question.

Anna spoke seriously, "The people here are not being kind to Anna Navarre or to Catherine Navarre. They are being kind to 'his' fiancée and the sister of the fiancée. Here, we don't represent the Navarre family, we represent... him. Our improper behavior will not shame the Navarre family but will diminish the respect others have for him."

Teasingly, Catherine asked, "You're not even married to him yet, how do you already have the mentality of the mistress of the house?"

"Don't laugh," Anna said, pinching her sister's palm, then sighed again, "The people here hold him in high regard. I don't know what he's doing, nor do I understand why he's staying here. But at least I shouldn't damage his reputation by coming here."

Catherine flopped onto the bed, rolling lazily, "Alright, I'll listen to you. Next time I'll eat it all up like that little girl, won't that do?"

Anna had no good way to deal with her sister; she gave her sister a light slap, "Our grandfather would go mad if he saw you like this, he detests wasting food the most."

"Hmph, he doesn't like me anyway. Grandfather only dotes on you, everyone dotes on you." Catherine felt somewhat hurt.

"But I love you the most."

Catherine snorted softly and turned over, giving her sister her back.

A series of rapid footsteps climbing the stairs was heard.

The sounds were so violent it was as if someone was bounding up several steps at a time.

Without giving the Navarre sisters any time to tidy up, Scarlett burst into the room like a storm, kicking open the door.

At this moment, Scarlett Gerardovna was completely a little Dusack.

The gentleness and tranquility inherited from Eileen had completely dissipated, and the wildness, impulsiveness, and fiery temper she got from Gerard were fully ignited.

Scarlett was uncontrollable with rage, clutching the white bread Catherine had left over, held it up to Catherine's face, and yelled, "You woman from Sea Blue! Do you think I eat coarse bread? Do you think my mother eats coarse bread?!"

Anna and Catherine were startled, the two sisters stood frozen in place, speechless.

Scarlett's expression was even somewhat fierce; her eyes were wide with anger, as if fire were about to spew from her pupils, nostrils, and mouth.

"I grew up eating white bread too! I had servants taking care of me from a young age! Do you think I don't understand that a lady's plate should have leftover food? Do you think I don't know?" The furious Scarlett, like a fierce lioness, screeched, "But have you ever been hungry? Not dieting to fit into a corset dress, but real hunger, with absolutely nothing to eat! So hungry you think about eating your own hands! My mother and I, if we don't work we starve to death! You just have to sit there, and food is served on the table. How dare you leave leftovers? How dare you leave them!"

Catherine was completely frightened, and even Anna was at a loss.

But Scarlett grew angrier and angrier; she tore at the white bread, squashing and rending it, her eyes reddened as she loudly questioned, "How dare you leave it? Do you know my mother went without rest the whole night for this flour?! And she has to prepare breakfast for you at dawn! How dare you leave it!!!"

"This kind of white bread, even if it fell to the ground, I'd eat it!" Scarlett stuffed a piece of the bread crumbs into her mouth, tears streaming down as she asked, "How dare you leave it?"

With nothing left to say, Scarlett violently threw the white bread at Catherine's face and left crying.

It took Catherine a while to recover from the shock; she had never seen such a degree of "argument," a surge of emotions—grievance, fear, indignation—flooding her heart instantly.

Suddenly, Anna felt her neck being choked.

"Why is she bullying me!" Catherine clung to her sister, crying heartbreakingly, her tears smeared her light makeup, and bread crumbs still hung in her hair, "Why do they all bully me!"

Anna quickly embraced her sister, comforting her by gently patting her back, "Don't be afraid, no one is bullying you."

Catherine cried even more miserably, "You don't help me either! You're bullying me too!"