But what parent wouldn't be enraged by the injury of their child? It was natural in a way of sorts.

"Young Miss, what has my son done that warrants this sort of punishment?" The father asks as he stands up and walks towards me. He stands just so that I don't have to raise my head to make eye contact with him. Rather thoughtful of him.

"Tsk."

"What has he done? Other than insulting my guest, and making comments on my behalf to my guest… need I say more?" I ask.

"What comments did he make that offend you enough to injure him?" The father presses.

Looking the man up and down he seemed to be a simple man for the most part. He's dressed smartly in a suit, that was neither too much nor too little. But just where had these ideas about the humans come from if not from the father, then the mother perhaps.

"I didn't say anything out of turn father! I only said that the human girl over there," he points behind me," that her people are warmongering people," he manages his jaw already starting to heal itself.

He conveniently omitted the part where he said that we should kill the poor girl. I held my tongue to see what would transpire. Although, I have little doubt that he wouldn't believe his own son.

The crowd had already started to whisper amongst itself. I didn't see any sign my mother or father, or Silvyr's parents. From the corner of my eye, I saw Herma rus.h.i.+ng out of the room. It appears that she was probably going to get my parents.

Just behind me stood Silvyr and the little human nomad child. He stood in front of her and was glaring towards the man in front of me. It seems that he was a reliable friend indeed. The strong should protect the weak.

"Young Miss, I see no problem in my son's comment," the father says after a moment. I ground my teeth; the mother had a disgusted look on her face as she looks at me. Seems that in her mind, I was nothing more than an eyesore.

"As your son's failed to tell you he also suggested that we 'kill her' and her being the human child he was insulting. Not only that, he talked for me saying that one such as herself shouldn't touch me, but I fail to see who and whom may and may not touch me is any concern of his," I say loudly so everyone can hear me.

The hushed room began to erupt into a loud sea of noise. I felt my blood begin to boil even more. I was angry, I don't remember the last time that I was angry. I'd gotten frustrated but never this sort of anger, that felt like a kettle boiling over.

"In my house, should I allow one to talk as if they're the master of someone's life?" I question pinning each of them with a look.

"Young Miss this was but the talk of a child. What he's said can't be held with much authority," the father pleads.

I gnashed my teeth.

"Just the simple talk of a child? I remind you, that children tend to repeat and hold ideals that are central to the parent's own beliefs. With that in mind, I'll reconsider pa.s.sing verdict on the child, and give my verdict to the real source," I snarl.

"I'll give you this chance to step forward and admit your guilt, or I can punish every single one of you," I say simply.

A few people in the room had moved to stand behind the family of three. It seems that there were some who support the idea that a children's words shouldn't be held with much thought. But that didn't mean that they're in the right.

Currently, they're all guests in my family's house. It was not in good faith that one would allow a guest to be threatened. It'd be an embarra.s.sment to allow this to go unpunished.

Taking a deep breath, I step forward, everyone in front of me took an instinctive step back as I move forward.

"Young Miss, I don't want to cross you, but you don't have the right to pa.s.s a verdict," the father says softly. He straightens his back and his eyes are glowing a bright red. A grim looks on his face as he stares me down.

I stop in front of him, inclining my head to look up at him.

"What right do you believe that you have, that allows you to a.s.sume that I don't have a right. You've stepped into my territory, insulted my guest, and when you plan to insult me, as well. I believe that you're sorely mistaken on the etiquette of this situation.

It would be in your best interest, to bend the knee and pray to the G.o.ddess herself that I forgive you and your family, for the grave insult of plotting to harm, and murder another guest in my own home," I tell him.

His red eyes are swirling with madness, I could tell that he was just as angry as I am. Though his anger probably came from the fact that a child was causing him to lose face in front of all these other important guests.

Even if that child was the daughter of the host, it was still a child that was berating and looking down on him.

"You make grand accusations for a child; didn't your parents teach you to respect your elders?" He hisses at me in a low voice.

"Didn't your parents teach you that threats of murder aren't good while the guest of someone else?" I challenge back.

The tension in the room felt like it would boil over at any point.

Without fail, my last comment seems to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Because the father raised his arm, ready to strike me.

However, before his arm could fall on my body, a whirlwind of black appeared and his arm stopped right before my head.

His hand was being held in the hand of a woman, she's dressed in all black and her one eye was in the shape of a crescent moon. Her hair drapes over her shoulders that are bare.

"Now… now as the adult you should hold in your temper, it's unbecoming for you to lose yourself like that to rage. Are you so in raged that you're willing to strike the Daughter of the Governess over a simple child's fight? That's very daft wouldn't you say, my darling," my aunt's voice was like sickly sweet honey.

Even though it came out warm and loving, a hideous threat was implied.

Without wasting a second, she tightens her hand on his wrist, and I watch as she cracks his wrist. His face blanches a stark white, as he tries to remove her hand from his arm. But it was like watching a viper wraps itself around a mouse.

There is no escape. It was futile to even try.

"Please tell me, just what sort of trash dares to touch my cute little niece? That wouldn't be you. Right?" Her voice drops several octaves as she leans in closer to him, her eyes flaming with madness.