[Lavinia's Pov]
WHAT.
THING?!?!
Did he—did he—DID HE JUST CALL ME A THING?!
Excuse me?! I may be five. I may look small and adorable with cheeks like mochi and lashes longer than your future—but I am not a THING!
I was ready to scream, maybe even throw a punch with my beautiful, tiny fist, but before I could explode—
"Lysandre, hold her." Grandpa Thalein's deep voice rumbled like thunder as he passed me—PASSED ME! Like a doll!—into Lysandre's waiting arms.
And Lysandre? That weird, sparkle-eyed second brother was trembling as if he had just touched holy relics. "F-finally... I'm holding you... my sweet little sister!!" he whispered like he'd waited lifetimes for this.
Meanwhile—
THUD!
Soren, my so-called first brother who dared call me "a thing," was launched halfway across the courtyard by Grandpa's foot. He hit the wall with a spectacular grunt.
"HOW DARE YOU CALL MY PRECIOUS A THING?!" Grandpa boomed like a furious war god.
