The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 51

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**

**Chapter 51: A New Side Of Her**

**Evelyn’s POV**

“It’s quite refreshing to see you finally embracing your true self… I assume you and Alexander have managed to make your marriage work.”

As I stood there, my hands instinctively balled into tight fists, a surge of indignation coursed through my veins. The urge to hurl all the etiquette lessons I had painstakingly absorbed over the years out the window was almost overwhelming.

Could I really be hearing my father’s words correctly? Were these compliments? Was he genuinely expressing concern for my well-being, or was this merely another one of his veiled attempts to exert control over my life?

No, it was nothing more than a superficial acknowledgment of the way I presented myself, a mere reflection of the image I had so carefully crafted through endless training and relentless lessons.

In that moment, I was no longer the outspoken, rebellious daughter he had endured for years. Instead, I had transformed into a poised noblewoman, one who understood the importance of decorum, who knew when to hold her tongue and maintain a dignified silence. And there he sat, beaming with pride, as if I had finally fulfilled the expectations he had harbored for me.

A fiery rage ignited within me, threatening to consume my composure.

Suppressing a scornful sneer, I spoke through gritted teeth, “What transpires between Alexander and me is no one’s concern but our own.”

A collective gasp rippled through the table, as nearly half the guests turned their heads in shock at my unexpected retort. Samantha and Isabella appeared as if they might choke on their drinks, their eyes wide with disbelief. Meanwhile, Liam wore a mask of mild amusement, a smirk barely concealed behind his hand.

I had anticipated an indignant response from Leonard, but to my surprise, he let out a hearty laugh. It struck me then how long it had been since I had witnessed my father genuinely laugh—if I had ever seen it at all.

“I suppose you have a point,” he replied smoothly, his tone almost too casual. “But can you really blame a father for being genuinely concerned about his daughter’s happiness?”

This time, a laugh escaped me, though it was devoid of any real amusement—a dry scoff that echoed my disbelief.

“Of course not,” I retorted with a hint of sarcasm. “But perhaps you should direct that same genuine concern toward someone who could truly benefit from it.”

Once again, the table fell silent, the air thick with anticipation as everyone awaited my father’s reaction. He remained quiet, a perplexed expression etched on his face.

“And who might that be?” Isabella interjected, her tone dripping with condescension.

With my shoulders squared and my gaze unwavering, I turned to confront the woman who had made my life a relentless misery for years.

“Edward. The son you already have,” I declared, my voice steady and resolute.

My tone was daring, my eyes fierce, but Isabella, wise enough to recognize the truth in my words, chose not to challenge me further.

“You’re right,” Leonard conceded, his voice lacking the usual authority.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to nod politely. “Thank you for all the trouble you went through to arrange this gathering on my behalf,” I said, my tone laced with a wistful edge.

Pushing my chair back, I excused myself from the table, the mention of Edward reminding me of the real reason I had returned home in the first place. I yearned to see my brother.

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