The next morning, I found myself at yet another awkward breakfast, only this time it was at the comfort of our own home.

Yvon and I were served a hearty meal, but unfortunately, we couldn’t enjoy it.

The two of us were having breakfast with our parents. Since we were living under one roof, you’d think this was common, but no, having meals with them was like a blue moon—rare.

This scarce event was caused by Yves—our older brother and eldest sibling—who had a day off and wanted to spend time with the family. How moving, I can already feel the tears from his fans’ eyes drowning me at how family oriented he was.

But honestly, may I be excused from this farce?

Though the Sunglen estate has been our home since birth, Yvon and I felt more like guests who could leave at any time. We were treated with care and respect, but there seemed to be a line that divided us from them.

Mother, Father, Yves, and Yvonne—they were already a complete picture. Yvon and I were just… extras. Scribbles on the margin of a beautiful piece of literature. We were cared for, sure—but we were often outside of their picture. And I’m not saying that just to be dramatic or petty. It’s just the truth.

Take right now, for instance. Though we were in the same room, it felt like we were on different continents.

Mom sat beside Yves, and Dad leaned more toward them from the middle. Yvon and I just sat across from them, yet not once since breakfast started have they looked in our direction. The only person who acknowledged our presence was our waiter who refilled our cups.

While they were happily having a conversation, the two of us were quietly and quickly eating our food so we could excuse ourselves.

Being treated like you don’t exist—on purpose or not—doesn’t work up an appetite.

Sigh. Wasn’t it bad enough that yesterday’s breakfast nearly gave me indigestion? One gut-wrenching breakfast a week, please! Actually scratch that, make it once a year! Let a girl eat her food with ease!

"Yves, dear!" Mom called, her voice dripping with maternal affection. "Have you given any thought to the commander's request regarding deploying more troops to the border?"

“I have,” he answered. “I took it into account when we drafted the revisions to the plan to reclaim Rouge Canyon.”

Dad beamed, "You're quick to act as always."

They carried on, absorbed in their discussion of military affairs then ventured onto territorial matters that, unsurprisingly at all, didn’t involve the two people sitting in front of them.

It seemed like Mom was about to tell Yves something when our eyes suddenly met. She looked surprised and did a double-take at our side of the table. She blinked, startled. As if she had only just realized we existed.

Did she actually forget we were here, too? Well, at least she realized it. Better late than never, I suppose.

“Y-Yvon!” she called, stuttering.

“What have you been up to these days?” she asked in a cheerful voice, attempting to have us join in on the conversation. “I’ve been so busy we haven’t had much time to talk lately.”

Yvon muttered just loud enough for me to hear, “You’ve been busy for the first eighteen years of my life, and that’s okay. I can wait until I’m fifty for a sliver of your time.”

I stomped on his foot hard, and he did an excellent job at suppressing his yelp.

“Let me enjoy breakfast quietly with no theateics. Thank you very much,” I told him, then sipped my delicious hot chocolate.

Before he could even answer, she spoke again.

“Aren’t you two graduating this year? If I remember correctly, this is around the time for your final evaluations. When will it be held? Tell us so we’ll clear up our schedules! We wouldn't want to miss it now, would we?”

Yvon and I exchanged confused looks, then his expression turned into that signature mischievous grin that tells me to buckle up and get ready for a show.

Great. Just great. There goes the last thread of my chances at a decent breakfast

“What are you saying, mom? You already missed it by a whopping three months!” he said with a light laugh.

“And besides,” Yvon continued, while putting more food onto his plate, “We already graduated last month.”

“We had to miss it though. You know, for Yvonne’s wedding?” He said before shoving bread into his mouth, observing our parents’ and brother’s reaction before swallowing his food and addin, “Surely you remember, after all, you’re the ones who told us to skip it.”

Our parents and older brother looked dumbfounded and were speechless at what they had just heard.

“WHAT?!” The three of them exclaimed.

“Why are you all so surprised?” he asked, acting all confused.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about the evaluation and the graduation?!" Yves asked.

Yvon continued acting oblivious, “What in Vreqiseon are you talking about? What makes you think we didn’t? We told you guys about it—multiple times, actually. I straight-up begged for at least one of you to show up for the evaluation. But after my sixth attempt, looking so pathetic asking for a scrap of your attention, Yvette told me it’d be best if I didn’t press the matter further.”

Not one of them spoke after Yvon said all that.

Our family knew very well that the final evaluation is special for graduating students of Embermore College because it’s the time when students showcase what they have learned and how they can apply it in life through a series of challenges.

The students’ performance at the final evaluation significantly affects their final grades. For students from noble families, there is a silent expectation by the people to perform well and place within the top 3 stops during the evaluation.

Families often support their children or those they sponsor for the evaluation. It’s rare for students to be without family or friends during this time, which is why reporters, artists, and journalists were having a field day with Yvon and me.

“During the evaluation…” Yves began, rubbing his nose bridge. “Who in our family attended to watch?”

“No one came for us,” answered Yvon. “We actually wrote a letter to Uncle Bertrand asking him if he would like to come and support us but he only sent a reply half a month later apologizing because he was busy with something he was helping Yvonne with.”

“We made headlines on that day, remember? Front page! I could hardly believe it? That was a first for us. Usually, it’s Yvonne or Yves’ faces on the front page, but this time, it was your troublesome twins! The artists did a great job at capturing the moment Yvette and I placed our medals around each other after placing gold and silver!”

Yvon sounded so cheerful and enthusiastic about what he was saying which was so different from the gloomy atmosphere across the table.

“You really didn’t know?” he said sarcastically, acting all innocent. “Oh, that’s right! That happened a day after the news about Yvonne receiving a gift from a Duke in Aewratis and Yves’ promotion to captain exploded in this house. Have I already congratulated you for that? If not, well then congratulations! Another achievement, well done!”

“And don’t worry, you didn’t miss much,” Yvon continued, “Just, you know, the fruit of your youngest children’s efforts for the past four years. There’s always next time, right?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Huh… There’s always next time… Why does that sound familiar?” he said, pretending to think deeply. “Oh right! I said that when we graduated from secondary school! Now that I think about it, I think Yvette here said that too back when we graduated grade school and you also missed our graduation! How nostalgic!”

With each sentence Yvon spewed out, I could feel my mother’s heart sink. Dad tried to lighten up the situation by trying to turn this into a lighthearted conversation, but he only made things worse.

“Have your pictures from that day been delivered? Though I’m sure it doesn’t capture the beauty of the moment, we would love to see them.”

“You want to see our pictures?” asked Yvon.

My twin brother and I are similar in a lot of ways which is why I can read him like a book. That’s also why it wasn’t hard to see that he grew more irritated hearing our father’s question.

He’s been ticked off since last night so he probably took this chance to blow off some steam.

But did it have to happen in front of my food?

“Our pictures, huh?” he said, without losing the fake smile that was hurting my eyes. “Sure, I’ll have it down quickly!”

He called for a maid and asked her to bring something from his study, which was just down the hall. When she came back, she presented the front page of the newspaper Yvon was talking about earlier.

Perplexed, Yves asked, “What is this, Yvon? I thought you said you were going to show us the pictures?”

“I did,” answered Yvon looking as though he was confused by the question despite knowing what Yves meant.

They were all speechless, uncertain about what to say.

“While I know it’s exciting to be on the front page for the first time, son, I think what your brother is trying to say is, where are the pictures?”

“Oh so that’s what he meant. HAHAHA! I’m kidding dad, I knew that. You didn’t have to dumb it down for me,” my brother replied.

“That’s… not what I was trying to do,” Dad explained.

“Anyway,” Mom cut in, trying to ease up the situation, “Where are the pictures, Yvon?”

“Why are you looking for the pictures when you’re looking right at them?” he replied.

Yvon’s answer took them aback. Thinking he was still joking, they carefully examined the look on his face, but of course, this wasn’t a prank. My brother was dead serious.

“Are you telling me that this—” Yves said, waving the newspaper page in the air, “— is the only picture you have from the evaluation?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Stop kidding around!” Yves exclaimed. “Look, I get that you’re angry that no one in our family came to watch you two at the evaluation, but you’re not going to gain anything by making our parents feel bad. They already know they screwed up, why are you rubbing it in?!”

Angry that Yvon was making our parents uncomfortable, Yves tore the newspaper page apart.

“There is a limit as to how much we can take your tantrums and you have gone well last that limit! Honestly, when will you two stop with your childish acts? You’re no longer children!”

Hearing this, I was pulled out of my thoughts.

“I’m sorry if this may come off as rude, Yves,” I began, “But what did I do to warrant your criticism? Up until now, I haven’t uttered a word to you or our parents throughout breakfast and yet you rope me into this scuffle? I don’t think that’s fair, dear brother.”

I stood up and grabbed the torn apart pieces of paper and handed them to Yvon who was quietly picking them up.

We have so many more copies of that headline, so why was he doing this? For the pity effect.

Well the copies aren’t ours per se… more of our subordinates' collections.

“As for the pictures you keep on asking for, what are we supposed to show you when you tore apart the only one we had?” I added.

“What are you saying, sweetheart?” Asked Dad. “How can that be your only picture? We have a family artist whom we pay to create pictures of important events. If he doesn't do his job, then we ought to terminate his contract with us.”

“Then you’d be terminating his contract without cause because you never called him for our evaluation to begin with,” I retorted.

I had no plans to get involved with this but since Yves roped me in after I was quietly minding my own business, I might as well add fuel to the fire Yvon was making, right?

“... What?”

The more confused they all looked, the more I could tell Yvon was finding amusement in this situation.

“I mentioned it earlier, didn’t I? I kept on begging you all to come and support us for the evaluation and when I did for the last time I also reminded you of my request to call the artist since he wasn’t responding to my letters so that Yvette and I could have our pictures drawn during the event as a keepsake,” Yvon explained.

“Don't you remember dad? You told me that you’d get to it soon right after you find the family heirloom Yvonne wanted to wear for the wedding,” he continued, “I thought you at least called the artist but when the day came, they didn’t show up. Three days later after that he visited the estate for Yves’ portrait so I took the opportunity to ask why he didn't come and he told me that he wasn’t informed about it. Apparently, all the letters I sent got lost while you Dad forgot I asked a favor.”

He gave the pieces of the newspaper to the maid and sat back down, “Being disappointed and let down doesn’t even begin to describe how the two of us felt about that but we didn’t complain. You didn’t even hear a heap out of us when Mom told us that we should all focus our energies on Yvonne and the prince’s wedding and that should be top priority for our family, going so far as telling us to cancel all other social events we had that same week despite us explaining that two days before their wedding was our graduation and that we could make time for both. I remember how angry mom looked when I kept insisting! HAHAHA! We didn’t complain because why would we? It wasn’t anything new after all.”

“We’ve always been at the back burner of this family, what’s our achievements compared to yours after all?” Yvon looked at Yves, “Thanks for ripping apart the only picture Yvette and I had of our evaluation by the way, I’ll keep what you said in mind about not being childish!”

Then—out of the corner of my eye—I saw our older sister’s attendant arrive from the palace.

I discreetly tugged on Yvon’s shirt, getting his attention, and motioning towards the attendant. Seeing him, Yvon flinched but quickly regained his composure. He pouted, his show abruptly ended, so no wonder he was bumed. His fun was cut short.

Dad looked ashamed and apologized, “We’re sorry for not paying more attention to you two. It wasn’t our intention to miss your evaluation and you didn’t have to skip your graduation. That wasn’t fair. We should’ve made time for both.”

Mom looked genuinely apologetic. She has a one-track mind, when she focuses on something, that’s the only thing she focuses on and she chose to focus on Yvonne’s wedding over us.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I’m not even going to try to come up with excuses because your father’s right, we should’ve made time for both. It’s not that we have favorites but you have to understand that your sister's wedding was important, which was why most of my attention was on it. Nevertheless, is there any way we can make up for it?”

Wary of the eyes that were on us, I carefully chose my words.

“There’s no need for that, Mom,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Why cry over spoilt milk? Tomorrow’s another day, after all. Besides, Yvon’s right, there’s always next time!

Dad scooted over to our side and held my hand, "Still, we're sorry sweetheart. We really screwed up.”

I snickered, “Yeah you did, didn’t you? Try not to miss my next milestone dad, if you do I’ll get really mad.”

“I promise I’ll be there, sweetheart,” he said with a warm smile.

Then I felt Yvon put his hand on my head and patted it a few times.

“Well this certainly has become an eventful breakfast but while we have your attention, I’m informing you that I’m bringing this one here to the restaurant today,” he said. “I want to check out the new equipment we ordered and while we’re there I’d like her to taste test the new recipe I’ve been working on. Sorry bro, we can’t make it to family-fun-day.”

“But dear,” Mom began, “Your brother rarely gets a day off, why don’t you spend some time together and head to the restaurant tomorrow?”

“I’d love to!” Yvon said sarcastically, “But I doubt he’d be thrilled to have me around right now.”

Then Yves, who had been silent since his argument with Yvon, spoke, “There’s no need for that, Mom.”

It was obvious that he felt bad and didn’t want us to feel worse or awkward.

“Just be careful you two, There have been a lot of murder cases reported in the capital lately. Don’t forget to take your guards with you,” he said.

“Also,” Dad interjected, “Yvon, accompany Yvette to the tailor this afternoon for her gown fitting.”

“Oh, that’s right! She has an appointment at the boutique today!” said Mom.

Yvon furrowed his brows in confusion, "Fitting? Gown fitting? What fitting?"

"Her wedding gown fitting," Dad said, causing us to be more confused.

"But I haven't even picked out a design yet," I replied.

"Your older sister had three extra gowns, remember? You'll be using one of those. Your mother told me you liked them,” said Dad.

I was perplexed, "What?"

Are they telling me that I’m going to wear one of my older sister’s extra wedding gowns—designed specifically for her—for my wedding?

Are you kidding me?

I'm all for saving up money for the territory and the future but is it wrong that I don't want to wear someone else's wedding gown for my wedding?

“Yvonne mentioned it to me during one of her fittings,” Mom explained. “Seeing as how you like them so much, she told me that as a surprise when you get married she was going to give you the one you like the most!”

Yvon was dumbfounded and was about to say something but—much to his surprise—I stopped him.

“What are you doing?!”

I mouthed, “Her ‘Eye’ is watching us, so let me handle this and bite your tongue.”

Then in the midst of that, Yves dropped his cutlery, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Yvette is getting married?”