Our household consists of four members: a gentle father and a slightly strong-willed mother, who were united in a marriage of convenience; myself, who inherited my father’s ordinary features; and my younger sister, a beauty so extraordinary it could only be called miraculous.
Except for my sister, we are an unremarkable noble family of counts with nothing particularly outstanding about us.
I have straight chestnut hair like my mother, paired with my father’s soft features—though “soft” might just be a polite way to describe my large but not overly big round eyes, a rounded nose, and chubby cheeks. My height is perfectly average.
In contrast, my sister inherited my father’s black hair, but hers has a soft, wavy texture. Her eyes, though the same color as mine, are larger, sparkling with a brilliance I could never hope to match. Her skin is strikingly pale, her cheeks delicately flushed, and her lips naturally rosy without any need for rouge.
Her figure is slender and graceful, with long limbs and a slim waist—traits no one else in our family possesses.
Because of this, my mother clearly favored my sister, who was strikingly beautiful, while treating me, the elder daughter, with neglect and disdain.
The saving grace was my sister herself. Unlike our mother, she treated me with kindness, affectionately calling me “Sister” and even standing up to our mother’s unreasonable behavior on my behalf.
Having such a lovely younger sister adore me and defend me made it impossible not to feel some pride. I soon found myself doting on her completely.
Our father, often busy with work and away from home, left domestic matters entirely to my mother. Though he would frown at her discriminatory remarks during his rare visits, he dismissed them as trivial and let them slide.
One day, my mother declared:
“Our noble household will be continued through Adeline, your younger sister. As for you, who have no redeeming qualities, you will go out to work and repay the debt of being raised in this family.”
This was said to me, Amanda, when I was just ten years old.
Even at that young age, I thought to myself: “It makes sense. Without a male heir, it’s reasonable to use my sister’s beauty to attract a capable husband from another noble family.”
So, without letting my emotions show, I simply nodded in response to her words.
Starting the following year, my mother began taking my sister and me to tea parties she attended.
To be clear, my participation was limited to family-only gatherings. My sister, however, was taken to every kind of event imaginable.
At these family tea parties, there were those who fawned over my sister while looking at me as though I were some sort of disappointment. Others would offer misplaced encouragement, saying things like, “Don’t be jealous of your sister,” or “Cheer up, you’ll be fine.”
To be honest, it was infuriating.
0 Comments