The Volkov household, once a bastion of rigid order, was now a simmering cauldron of suspicion and unease. Anya, from her hidden vantage point in the greenhouse, observed the escalating chaos with a detached satisfaction. Elara, the maid, was still suffering from her mysterious rash, her once sharp tongue now muted by constant itching. Minor objects continued to vanish and reappear, sowing discord among the servants. Lady Volkov's temper grew shorter with each passing day, her once impeccable appearance now slightly disheveled.
But these were mere skirmishes. To truly fulfill the 'Volkov Family Disruption' quest, Anya needed a more significant, calculated risk. Something that would not only create discord but also expose the underlying rot within the family, forcing them to confront their own ugly truths.
Her target: the family's weekly dinner. It was a ritual, a display of their wealth and status, where Lord Volkov, a man of booming voice and even louder opinions, held court. It was also a breeding ground for petty rivalries and thinly veiled insults, especially directed at Anya Volkov in her past life.
Anya's plan was simple, yet audacious. She would appear at the dinner. Not as the meek, sickly Anya they expected, but as someone subtly, undeniably changed. Her goal was not to cause a scene, but to subtly manipulate the situation, to expose their hypocrisy and force them to react.
She spent the day preparing. She used the last of her System Points to purchase a 'Basic Cleansing Charm' from the Shop, a small, ethereal glow that cleansed her skin and hair, removing the grime of the greenhouse and the lingering pallor of Anya Volkov's neglect. She found a discarded, but still presentable, dress in the greenhouse's storage, a simple, dark gown that, with a few mental adjustments from the System's 'Basic Tailoring' function (a passive skill she'd discovered), fit her surprisingly well.
As dusk settled, Anya made her way from the greenhouse, moving with a newfound grace that belied her still-healing ankle. The estate guards, usually vigilant, seemed to be looking everywhere but at her, a subtle effect of her 'Basic Stealth' skill, which she had been diligently cultivating. She slipped into the mansion through a rarely used servant's entrance, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and exhilaration.
The dining hall was a blaze of light and opulence. Crystal chandeliers glittered, reflecting off polished silver and gleaming china. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and expensive wines. Lord Volkov sat at the head of the table, his booming laugh echoing through the room. Lady Volkov, her face still slightly blotchy from stress, sat opposite him, flanked by her two daughters, both preening and self-important.
Anya paused at the entrance, taking a deep breath. This was it. The calculated risk. She pushed open the heavy oak doors, the sudden creak silencing the room. All eyes turned to her. The laughter died. Forks clattered against plates. A collective gasp rippled through the room.
She walked in, her head held high, her gaze sweeping over the stunned faces. Her dark dress, though simple, seemed to accentuate her newfound poise. Her eyes, once downcast, now held a piercing intensity that made even Lord Volkov flinch.
"Anya?" Lady Volkov's voice was a strangled whisper, a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be… indisposed."
Anya offered a small, enigmatic smile. "Indeed, Stepmother. But it seems I've made a miraculous recovery. And I wouldn't want to miss such a delightful family gathering." Her voice, though soft, carried through the silent hall, each word a perfectly placed arrow.
Lord Volkov, recovering from his initial shock, slammed his fist on the table. "Nonsense! You're a disgrace! Get back to your room at once!"
Anya ignored him, her gaze falling upon her stepsister, Elara's daughter, who had often delighted in tormenting her. The girl, usually so confident, now squirmed under Anya's unwavering stare. Anya then looked at a particularly ornate silver goblet on the table, a family heirloom that Lady Volkov cherished.
"Host has identified a target for subtle manipulation. Recommendation: Utilize 'Basic Telekinesis' (unlocked with 10 System Points) to cause a minor, yet impactful, disturbance."
The System's voice chimed in, offering a new skill. Anya's eyes widened imperceptibly. Telekinesis? She had no System Points for it. But then, she remembered the 'Volkov Family Disruption' quest. She had to complete it to get points. This was a dilemma.
She decided to rely on her own wit. She simply stared at the goblet, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. The stepsister, unnerved by Anya's gaze, nervously reached for the goblet. Her hand trembled, and with a sudden, clattering crash, the goblet tumbled from her grasp, spilling wine across the pristine white tablecloth and splashing onto Lady Volkov's expensive gown.
A collective gasp filled the room. Lady Volkov shrieked, jumping up, her face a mask of fury. "You clumsy oaf! Look what you've done!" she screamed at her daughter.
The stepsister, mortified, stammered, "I… I don't know what happened! It just… slipped!"
Anya merely watched, a silent observer. The discord had begun. The family, instead of uniting against her, was turning on itself. Lord Volkov roared, demanding an explanation. Lady Volkov shrieked at her daughter. The other stepsister, usually a silent observer, snickered.
"Quest: Volkov Family Disruption. Progress: Significant. Continue to sow discord. Current time: 20:30. Dawn: 06:00."
The System's notification was a silent cheer. Anya had taken a calculated risk, and it was paying off. The Volkovs were unraveling, and she was merely watching the show. But the night was far from over. And she had a feeling, a thrilling premonition, that the real drama was yet to begin.
[End of Chapter 10]