I already knew my sister was beautiful—it was obvious to anyone. But unlike what my mother claimed, I wasn’t “utterly hopeless.” I had no need for misguided advice or pity from those who misunderstood the situation.
With the brightest smile I could muster, I would respond:
“Thank you for your concern. As someone still young and inexperienced, I deeply appreciate your insightful guidance.”
After delivering this line without faltering, I would follow it up with an elegant curtsy—a gesture my tutors had praised for its precision and grace. My sister, standing beside me, would beam at me with admiration, while those who had offered unnecessary advice would recognize the harmony between us and awkwardly retreat.
Watching their backs as they departed, I’d let out a little huff of disdain. My sister would cling to my arm, exclaiming, “You’re amazing, Sister!” This exchange became our usual routine.
By the time I turned thirteen, I entered the Royal Academy and devoted myself to my studies.
Though it wasn’t because of my mother’s words, I aimed to become a female civil servant in the royal palace.
The reason? Well… to be honest, I wanted my sister to think I was cool.
Ahem… but leaving that aside, I threw myself into my studies while also creating and selling reference books to earn pocket money and build connections—leading to a fulfilling academy life.
However, six months into my studies, an unwelcome visitor appeared in my sanctuary: the quiet, verdant corner of the library with its view of the trees outside.
“Excuse me, are you Amanda Jelite?”
“Yes, that’s me. Since we’re in a library, please excuse me for remaining seated. And you are…?”
The golden-haired, green-eyed young man in the academy uniform who addressed me seemed to catch the sarcasm in my tone. After offering a brief bow, he introduced himself.
“Ah, my apologies. I’m Freddie Shucott. I heard rumors about the reference books you create and wanted to…”
“I see. Here are the reference books for first-year students, and these are for second-years. Unfortunately, I’m still working on those for third-years, so I can’t meet your expectations on that front.”
Sensing a business opportunity, I eagerly pulled the reference books I had on hand from my bag, arranging them neatly on the table.
Freddie watched this scene unfold, his face twitching slightly as he patiently waited for me to finish.
“Why do you have materials for upper grades?”
"…Aren’t you a first-year student this year? How do you have materials for the upper grades?"
"I’ve already done some preparatory studying. By collecting test answers from upperclassmen and analyzing them, one can prepare accordingly, don’t you think?"
0 Comments