"Please explain, why did you hit your own sister?"

Based on Brahms' memories, every time he made a mess or get caught into trouble created by his own sister, he never talk. Not a single word. Right now she's fake crying with her maid holding her and trying to calm her down. Several servants are staring at me with a tired look since Brahms did this a lot of times. Mom looked at me sadly, while dad looked disappointed.

We're all gathered inside the living room.

And I'm here, sitting down on a luxurious sofa while looking at my parents.

Mercie peeked at me, she flashed me a vicious sneer in between her cries.

This silly girl. She saw and witnessed my changes. Maybe she's thinking I'm just bluffing? I'm not that Brahms who went silent after being confronted like this.

"... I knew it, I really thought you've changed," Dad sighed in frustration.

"I didn't do it,"

Everyone looked at me with wide eyes.

Brahms never defended himself, they must've thought.

"You didn't?" Mom asked, there's a sound of hope in her voice. She looked at me as if she wanted me to say more.

"No. She hit herself," I shrugged. Mercie's sobs stifled as I said that.

Now almost everyone in the room turned their attention to Mercie. It's quiet now. Even the maid that's comforting Mercie looked at her with curiosity. Mercie looked around hastily while noticeable sweat started to drip from her forehead.

"W-What?! why would I do such a thing?!"

Dad looked back to me. "May you please justify your statement, Brahms?"

"By all means father,"

I tried to suppress my smirk at Mercie. She looked petrified. As I thought, she never thought that I would talk back. She dug a grave for me, but I'll make sure she's the one who got thrown inside that grave.

"To be honest I'm not sure why she hit herself. We were walking in the garden, there are Esma and several maids. They only witnessed Mercie fell and cry, but they see how weak my health is— all of you can tell that I can't even throw a hard punch,"

Whispers and murmurs are started to emit, echoing the entire living room. Mercie's eyes trembled. Mom and dad looked at each other before looking towards Mercie.

"D-Don't lie?! I said why would I do that to myself?!"

"And let me reiterate as well then my sister. I'm not sure why you hit yourself," I smiled. I show everyone my clean knuckles. They're not red or bruised, clear evidence that I never hit her.

The murmurs got louder. The servants stared at Mercie in scepticism.

"That's true, Young Master's knuckles are clean,"

"Then why would the Young Mistress punch herself?"

Again, I'm trying to put on my poker face. Even though I'm laughing and celebrating internally. Mom looked at Mercie in disbelief. Dad crossed his hands and sigh, shoot Mercie with a disappointed glance.

"Mercie.., tell me honestly why you slander your own brother?"

"N-No!" Mercie stuttered. "He's lying!"

"Brahms is not like that," Mom defended me. She gave Mercie a hurt expression. "I cannot grasp the meaning of this, Mercie. Or maybe all of the wrongdoings made by Brahms so far has been your doing?"

Checkmate!

Everyone went silent. Mercie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She's just letting out more tears.

"Waaaaah—!!!"

She lets out a deafening cry and fell to her knees. The maid beside her looked flustered, she even hesitated to calm Mercie down. Everyone looked at each other in perplexity. Mom sigh, massaging her temple.

Dad glared down at Mercie. "Bring her to her room,"

And so, several maids quietly bring the crying Mercie upstairs.

That's what you get from messing with me, 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.