Chapter 1
“Ha ha! I finally got into Kendale Academy!” “What did you say?” Fellow Aethelwynn, lounging by the floor-to-ceiling window, had his legs crossed, and Sir Cedric Blackwood, sipping his coffee, nearly choked at the audacity of my announcement. “I said, ‘Kendale Academy!’ I’ve finally passed the entrance exam, dear Brother Genevieve! Are you deaf or just ignoring me? This news is monumental for me and a serious blow to you, Sir Cedric!” “Why? How is this even possible? And why on earth are you going to the same school as me?” Cedric frowned, his finely sculpted brows knitting together in disbelief. “Because someone in this world finally recognizes my brilliance! That’s called having vision, okay?” Ugh, why on Earth would I want to be at that dreadfully posh academy with you? It’s not like I volunteered for it! If it weren’t for Old Father Bran, who constantly threatened me about not applying to a decent high school, I would’ve turned my back on the entire idea. He was keen to cut off financing for my pitiful little life as long as I didn't attend that so-called elite institution! He paid all those exorbitant fees and then washed his hands of the situation, leaving me to fend for myself, while all my other daily worries—housing, food, the basics—were just tossed aside with a dismissive wave. But here I was, having worked myself to the bone to finally secure a spot at the best high school, Kendale Academy, all for the hope of a decent meal and a roof over my head! “Cut the cutesy talk, seriously! You better come clean—are you planning to mooch off me now?” “Bingo! You hit the nail on the head!” In my most shameless fashion, I played the card of wanting an adventure in Southshire after my entrance exam, which conveniently led me straight to Cedric’s fancy villa. Why was Old Father Bran so unfair? He was still in the eleventh grade, and yet he had purchased the villa while I had to scrape to prove myself worthy! I couldn’t imagine myself living alone; I’d definitely succumb to the dark, high winds at night without protection. Moreover, I’d have to fork out rent, as well—no way! The classic case of valuing sons over daughters! “No way!” Cedric slammed his coffee mug down as he trotted into the kitchen, grabbing an endless plate of snacks with a scoff. “Rowan, don’t act like this. Just think, if you let me crash here and I end up homeless, it won’t just be embarrassing for me; what will people think of you? One day your peers or one of the ladies might spot me huddled under a bridge somewhere, and you’d just call me your ‘sister’—imagine the humiliation!” I attempted to squeeze out a couple of tears to evoke sympathy from the pristine, statue-like Brother Rowan sitting directly across from me. Nah, I got that wrong; this angelic face had the body of a devil that made Cedric a tough act to follow. “Hmm??? You think you’ll really end up homeless? I reckon even if we dumped you in Northford, you could sneak back to Eastwyn unscathed. By the way, I’d prefer if you didn’t tell anyone you’re my sister. Hilda would be mortified.” Could he really be so insensitive? How could he hit me where it hurts? He merely had flawless features that made everyone envious, while I just had a slightly dull complexion with a few baby fats thrown in. He was taller, toned, with an impeccable stance; I stood at a mere 5’6” looking like an everyday person you wouldn’t notice unless you looked hard enough. Why, oh why, did we have to share the same wretched parents but be so different? This was absolute cruelty!
Chapter 2
“Rowan, are you really going to cast me aside like this? Fine, if you despise me so much, I'll leave,” I muttered, dragging my feet up the stairs, head hanging low. Just then, Sir Cedric called out from behind me, “Wait. You really think I’d let Roland become a homeless drifter? Not a chance!” “Head back to Eastwyn,” he commanded. I spun around in excitement, my heart racing as I plopped back into my seat on Steed Balthazar. “I knew it! In this world, there’s only one Rowan!” I mentally berated myself for being so eager to please, but for my life in Eastwyn, I had to suck it up. “Bringing you back to Eastwyn? I’m just worried that when people see a pathetic beggar named Sister Brenda, I’ll be the one embarrassed. Don’t even think about slacking off and living here for free! Each month, you have to pay rent, no exceptions. If you don’t, I’ll just have Old Father Bran sneak you back home, claiming you’re a distraction to my studies!” Sir Cedric Blackwood rattled off while bouncing his leg restlessly. “What? Rent? For this miserable room?” I protested. “Can’t you be a little more generous?” “Also, don’t you dare tell anyone that we know each other. You think living here for free means you get the luxury of a roof over your head? Old Father Bran gives you just enough to cover your half of the rent,” he added sternly. What on earth? Sir Cedric Blackwood, you’re utterly cruel! I was already giving you half my life’s allowance each month. What else could you possibly want? The urge to hurl the crumbs from the table at his infuriating face was strong. But instead, I took a deep breath and put on my best smile. “Dear Brother Oswald! Money can’t buy affection, can it? My good friend Rowan, surely Old Father Bran can be a bit more lenient, right?” Under his roof, one had to swallow their pride. “Oh really, then…” Sir Cedric paused as if contemplating my words, “Enough chatting, from now on, Brother Genevieve lives here. It’s your honor to put up with me; as a man and as your Rowan, can’t you keep your dignity intact? I’m going out to buy something from Alaric, and possibly enroll Lady Seraphina at the school.” With that, he stormed out, leaving behind a stream of astonished silence from Old Brother Oswald and me. Phew! That was a close call. I was certain Old Brother Oswald wouldn’t dare stop me now. I couldn’t believe I just went all sentimental with him. He didn’t even show appreciation. Hmph… just because I seemed meek didn’t mean I was easy to push around, right?
Chapter 3
Everard felt a surge of happiness as he watched Lady Hilda saunter by, and for a moment, it seemed like she was smiling just for him. "Hilda, sunshine in the sky, dancing like a star!" he hummed cheerfully, pushing his shopping cart through the bustling aisles of Frank's Grocery. With an eager grin, he launched his snack attack. "Time to stock up! Can't forget my yogurt—I'm craving it already!" As he thought of the creamy treat, he couldn’t wait to find his favorite flavor. But wait! At the beverage section, where was his yogurt? "Yogurt, yogurt, where are you?" he muttered, scanning the shelves like a searchlight. "Ah-ha! Found it!" Just as he reached for a bottle, he froze. Another shopper, Sir Reginald, snatched it before he could. Would he seriously just stand there and watch his coveted yogurt disappear? No way! "Hey! Sir Reginald! You saw that first, right?" Everard protested in disbelief. Sir Reginald didn’t flinch. He merely turned his attention to Lord Alaric, who walked by with an air of indifference. How could Reginald brush him off so easily? Sure, he could ignore him, but did he really think he could whisk away the yogurt from his grasp? "Excuse me! Sir Reginald, are you even listening to me?" Everard tugged at the man's sleeve, trying to regain his attention. With a slow and icy stare, Reginald finally turned to him. "What do you want?" Everard gulped nervously. That icy demeanor sent chills down his spine. The man’s face was striking, with chiseled features and a rebellious hint that made him more than just attractive. Lord, he looked like he could have just stepped off a modeling campaign. "Enjoying the view, are we, Everard?" Reginald's lips curled into a smirk that made Everard flush. "Wait! No! I’m not... Ugh, don’t call me a lovesick fool! That yogurt was mine!" Everard stuttered, less defending himself and more trying to assert his ownership. Who did Reginald think he was, throwing insults his way when he was trying to get his precious yogurt back? "My yogurt? Is this market not open for everyone?" Reginald raised an eyebrow, seemingly entertained. "No, it’s not about that! I saw it first!" Everard retorted, his frustration boiling over. Reginald rolled his eyes. "Then how about you take your complaint up with the grocery store manager?" "You think this is a game? Give me back the yogurt!" Everard felt heat rising in his chest, hands firmly on his cart, ready to confront this egotistical thief. "Why should I? I saw it first!" Reginald challenged, crossing his arms. Everard’s mind raced; he was running out of options. This was just yogurt! How could he let his dignity be crushed over a dairy product? "Okay, let’s be civilized about this. If you give me that yogurt, I promise not to cause a scene," Everard managed to say through gritted teeth, trying to keep his anger in check. Reginald chuckled lightly, for some reason finding this negotiation amusing. "If your theory is that simple, then fine, but I’m not making any promises. Your yogurt may just start a riot, you know." "What if you don’t agree? Just let me grab it!" Everard shot back, exasperated. The standoff continued in the aisle, each refusing to back down. A small crowd began to gather, waiting to see how this unusual grocery drama would resolve. It was just yogurt, but somehow, it felt like so much more.
Chapter 4
“Does Denial Arlin really think he can scare me?” Eastwyn scoffed, his gaze fixed on Lord Alaric. “He’s just not getting it.” “Do I really have to beg for him to leave my sister, Elara, alone? He wouldn’t dare ask for something as simple as yogurt, would he? After all, he’s the one who knocked her up!” Eastwyn let out an exaggerated whimper, clinging to his brother's side. The supermarket had turned into an impromptu stage, with eyes darting toward the two brothers. Eastwyn feigned a smile, enjoying the attention before the inevitable chaos unfolded. Taking advantage of the moment, he made a mad dash toward the dairy aisle, sprinting past shelves piled with groceries, and nearly forgetting about all the snacks in his cart. “Oh no, I almost forgot about my haul! Move it, Eastwyn!” “Damn it, that woman told him to stop!” The distant voice of Rogue broke through the hustle and bustle of the store. Eastwyn, pushing his cart with the fervor of an enraged bull, nearly barreled his way to the checkout counter, shouting at the cashier, “Come on! Hurry it up, Chubby Genevieve! Let’s move!” With his groceries thrown unceremoniously onto the couch at home, he collapsed like a deflated balloon. “Was I just robbed at the grocery store?” he panted, still catching his breath. Sir Cedric Blackwood, with a bemused expression, leaned against the doorway, holding a glass of water, watching Eastwyn with curiosity. “Cough, cough… what a scene,” Eastwyn spluttered, nearly choking. “I can’t believe we sprinted back from Eastwyn’s. You’d think I’d mocked his entire existence today.” Brother Rowan took a moment to sip his water, his eyes glancing at the mess of chips and snacks littering their living space. “Was it really that dramatic? The poor guy just wanted to buy some snacks to avoid living off instant noodles for weeks.” “Shut up! You don’t understand, he’s not allowed to enjoy a moment of bliss!” Eastwyn shot back, glancing at Sir Cedric with exasperation. As Sir Cedric stuffed his mouth full of chips, crunching loudly, he leaned toward Eastwyn. “He’s right, you know. It’s not like the guy’s doing anything wrong by grabbing snacks. It’s just instinct. You keep treating him like some sort of villain.” “I don’t want anything to do with him!” Eastwyn fumed, absolutely frustrated. With a huff, he stomped up the stairs, every step echoing his irritation. “What a jerk!” “Just try not to stir up trouble for yourself at school,” Sir Cedric called after him, shaking his head. What a wild mood this girl had; he just hoped she wouldn’t cause any more chaos in Kendale Academy. Kids these days, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance while glancing down at the mess left behind. “This is going to be a headache.”
Chapter 5
“Lady Jocelyn North, you have three minutes to get out of Eastwyn!!” Uh… I felt the whole house tremble at Lord Alaric's roar. Old Brother Oswald’s lion-like roar echoed as they rushed through Eastwyn. “Eastwyn has fallen,” I thought, chewing on a piece of bread. I hurriedly downed the spoils from yesterday’s breakfast raid. “What if I choke? This isn’t Eastwyn, is it?” Lord Alaric had been prodding me long enough, but he didn’t understand that sometimes Lady Jocelyn needed her time. After all, was Roland really going to manage this fiery marriage life? I mourned for her plight in silence. “Get in the car if you don’t want to be late,” came Alaric's impatient voice. “Oh~” Yet another hit to my pride. Why did I have to be the only one without a fancy car? Hilda sighed dramatically… The car finally pulled to a halt at the Academy's gates. “Just follow this road straight ahead. If you keep going, you’ll see the school sign. It’s the Academy. Just ask for directions when you get there,” he instructed before letting me out, and then Steed Balthazar sped off, leaving me in a cloud of dust. I didn’t even get a chance to say anything to him! How rude! --- Sir Cedric Blackwood glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the frustrated expression on Lady Jocelyn North’s face. The girl might be directionally challenged, but could she really be that hopeless? Shaking his head as he drove towards the Academy gate, he couldn’t help but frown, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sir! Sir! Sir! Prince Percival is here!” Lady Elara squealed, her voice attracting a chorus of shrill screams from behind. “It’s really him! It’s really Prince Percival! I love you!” The horde of girls overwhelmed Sir Cedric’s car as they rushed forward. --- What the hell? I had been walking straight for five minutes, and how had I not even spotted the Academy gate? Damn you, Sir Cedric Blackwood. Wait, what’s with all those people gathering up ahead? Could it be a welcome for the new students? Wow! I had heard about the grandiosity of Kendale Academy, but witnessing the excitement for new students was something else. I could hardly contain my excitement! (Blushing) “Prince Percival, I love you!” “Sir! Sir! Sir! Prince Percival, you’re our idol!” Prince Percival? Wait, who’s that? Prince... Percival? Sir Cedric Blackwood? Oh my gosh, could it be that coincidental? I admit Old Brother Oswald is quite handsome, but does he really deserve such a commotion? Pushing through the frantic girls, I finally caught a glimpse of the man they were all fawning over—it was none other than Old Brother Oswald! Ha! Looking at his distressed expression, I was sure he was exasperated by all this madness. Karma really has its way of catching up. “Prince Percival, you’re so handsome!” The shrill voice of Little Maid Greta caught me off guard, almost shaking my eardrums out. Seriously, ladies, go ahead and shout. Just wait until you discover the real face of that guy; you won’t be screaming like this forever. Rolling my eyes and preparing to escape, I turned just as a Wretched Woman stumbled into me, her excitement causing her to collide with me bone-crushingly. “Quick, look! Prince Percival is here! He’s here!” Ugh, that hurt! If I don’t find a way to escape soon, I’ll be suffocated by this crowd of obsessive girls!
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