Whenever I could, I helped him, but he preferred me to take care of Mr. Dorel's famous and valuable horses, known for their incredible speed.

Sometimes, though rarely, my brother Galen and his fiancée would help look after our vegetable patch, which was to be sold.

At times, I just wanted to be a dreamy little girl, free from the worries of life. But how could that be, given the current situation we found ourselves in?

I was fully aware that things were not going well for my family. It was as if something was pulling me down every time I tried to get back on my feet, and this feeling suffocated me, eating me up inside.

While many welcomed the winter months with enthusiasm, my family and I saw it as a monster that not only appeared once a year, but also destroyed everything we had spent years building.

Ever since my mother started pressuring me - or rather manipulating me - about the selection, one question kept popping into my head: did my father also believe that the selection was the only way to get everything back to normal?

I remembered when he used to sit at the table, his eyes tired, but always with a discreet smile, even on the most difficult nights. He never failed to remind us that there would always be a tomorrow. 'If we've made it this far, we'll make it again,' he used to say. But now, his silence was deafening.

It was at times like these that I would stop and reflect on all the problems and responsibilities that had been thrown at me. And it was precisely at these times that that stupid letter from the Selection seemed to be the only chance of getting me out of the deep end.

I didn't want to, but I began to see the Selection differently - no longer as an obligation or a duty imposed on me, but as a real opportunity to change not only my life, but also that of my family.

When I looked at our real situation, the Selection no longer seemed like an enemy. Instead, it was like an outstretched hand, or a rope that I could grab onto and perhaps even pull my family along with me to offer them a more dignified and stable life.

As I watched my mother in the kitchen, finishing preparing breakfast, I noticed at a glance that she still had a frown on her face, probably still furious with me.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

I didn't blame her for not being able to understand the reason for my resistance. After all, I myself couldn't put it into words in a way that she would understand. Perhaps, even if I didn't want to admit it, deep down I already knew that I was starting to give in.

For a brief moment, I let my eyes wander over her face. Describing my mother was not an easy task, both in terms of her appearance and her personality. But it was obvious that I had inherited not only her beauty, but also her stubbornness.

My father once told me an interesting story about my mother. He said that, at my age, she was so breathtakingly beautiful that she made everything stop.

She was like a goddess who had come down from heaven in search of something on earth. No wonder they called her Freya. Her hair was as golden as the sun, just like mine, but with a few white strands that had appeared with age.

Her eyes were so blue that they were reminiscent of the pure and lonely ocean, which made her even more stunning. That was my mother, Selene Callen.

Despite the time and exhaustion of caring for our family while acting as the ruler of House Dorel, my mother had always been a hard-working and determined woman.

Although I didn't know the true extent of the weight she carried on her back, I understood that it was because of this burden that she began to try to manipulate me whenever an opportunity arose.

The sound of the plate being placed on the table broke the silence, interrupting my thoughts. She didn't look at me at any point, which made me even more distressed.

"Coffee's on the table!"

Her voice was firm and authoritative; it wasn't a request, but an order disguised as kindness. It wasn't the first time she had acted like this, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Once my mother had finished setting the table in the dining room, she went into the kitchen without looking at me, still a little annoyed, and shouted from there.

After hearing my mother's shout, my father, who was still in the living room reading his newspaper, let out a sigh, got up from the armchair where he was sitting and started walking slowly towards the wooden table in the kitchen, leaving the newspaper on a small table before leaving.

Elara, who had helped my mother, came out of the kitchen door with my niece on her lap, who was licking her little fingers, already smeared with jam.

As she walked slowly towards my brother, she looked at me and gave me a small, almost discreet smile, as if to warn me to prepare myself for what was to come.

As soon as she passed me, Elara sat down next to my brother, who had been at the table long before we arrived. Seizing the opportunity, he kissed her.

While my brother and sister-in-law were making out, I briefly lost myself in thought as I watched them.

Ely was very different from the rest of us, who didn't have any titles. Originally, she was a 'Three' before she met my brother.

As Elara was very private and hardly ever spoke about her past, we knew very little about what she did before she abandoned everything to be with my brother. Based on her caste, she was probably a lawyer or a writer. Even so, she chose to give up everything and moved down one step in the hierarchy, simply out of love.