Out-of-place Vase With Flowers

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Let's delve into the lives of two twins before we become engrossed in the upcoming scene.

These twins were fortunate to be born into a loving and prosperous family, an environment that provided them with a solid foundation for their future. From an early age, they possessed an uncanny resemblance to one another. Their physical similarities were so striking that even their own mother, in rare moments of distraction, would find herself gazing at the pair with a perplexed expression, silently questioning, "Who is who?"

To ease the confusion, their parents decided to affix name tags to the twins. This simple solution allowed everyone, including the parents themselves, to easily discern the identity of each child. Yet, as time passed and the twins grew older, they yearned to shed these external markers. Society, in its sometimes unkind manner, would mock them upon glimpsing those name tags. Thus, the twins longed to rid themselves of this burden, even if doing so presented their parents with a fresh challenge—distinguishing between the two children.

However, as time went on, the twins began to exhibit noticeable differences. The first-born, Erica, was what one might call average in her abilities. To be kind, she could be described as competent but unremarkable. In more candid terms, she was simply mediocre in anything she undertook. On the other hand, Alea, the younger twin, possessed an exceptional aptitude for various endeavors. She was not only skilled in martial arts but also a prodigious talent in chess—a true genius in her own right.

Unbeknownst to their parents, a subtle favoritism towards Alea emerged. It was only natural for them to gravitate towards the child with exceptional abilities. After all, a talented child was deemed more desirable than an ordinary one. Gradually, their affection leaned more towards Alea, unwittingly leaving Erica feeling isolated and neglected.

Feeling increasingly isolated and overlooked, Erica embarked on a mission to gain recognition. She poured her heart and soul into everything she attempted, striving to prove her worth. Yet, no matter how arduously she toiled, she could never surpass the effortless brilliance of her sister. It was as if the universe itself conspired to uphold the age-old adage: "Effort can never trump talent." And sadly, in this case, those words held true. For every skill Erica painstakingly mastered, Alea effortlessly grasped it within a single day—a testament to her prodigious talents.

As the days wore on, Erica's heart grew heavy with sorrow. She yearned for validation and acknowledgment, to be seen for her own merits. However, the shadow of her sister's brilliance seemed to overshadow her every endeavor, casting a pall of sadness over her spirit.

As time passed, a peculiar dynamic began to emerge within the family. The parents could now easily distinguish between their twins based on their respective talents. Alea had become synonymous with extraordinary abilities, while Erica, unfortunately, became synonymous with mediocrity.

Whenever their paths crossed with Erica, her parents, consumed by their unintentional favoritism, would inadvertently address her as Alea. In those moments, their gaze held a certain warmth and tenderness, as if they were looking upon the child they truly favored. But as soon as Erica corrected them, reminding them of her true identity, their eyes would lose that special gleam, returning to the gaze one would expect from ordinary parents—loving, yet without the added glow of affection.

This pattern became the new normal, but it deeply wounded Erica. Each instance served as a painful reminder that she was the one overshadowed by her sister's exceptional talents. She yearned for her parents' unconditional love and acceptance, to be seen as more than just the "other" twin. The disparity in their parents' gazes, shifting from a tender light to a more commonplace look, left a lasting mark on Erica's heart, amplifying her feelings of inadequacy and emotional neglect.

In those fleeting moments, when her parents' eyes lingered on Alea with that unmistakable affection, Erica could not help but wonder—what did her sister possess that she lacked? Would she ever be worthy of such unreserved love? These unanswered questions further fueled the ache within her, casting a shadow on her sense of self-worth.

On a momentous day, the twins found themselves attending a grand celebration: the seventh birthday party of an earl's son. In this world, turning seven marked a significant transition from childhood to young adulthood (with the age of fifteen signifying full adulthood). Naturally, a lavish affair was organized to commemorate this momentous occasion.

Clad in matching dresses, the twins made their entrance into the splendid hall, immediately capturing the attention of all in attendance. Their ethereal beauty was truly a sight to behold, capable of putting even the most revered goddesses to shame. Yet, the reception they received was strikingly different.

Erica, with her radiant presence, garnered the gazes of admiration from those around her. Their eyes held a certain appreciation for her loveliness, but it was a fleeting gaze, akin to the admiration bestowed upon any attractive individual in the room.

In stark contrast, Alea seemed to emanate an aura of enchantment. As she stepped into the hall, an atmosphere of awe and reverence enveloped those who beheld her. Their gazes lingered upon her with a mixture of admiration and reverence, as if they were gazing upon a figure deserving of reverence and adoration.

"Look over there, isn't that the remarkable daughter of the renowned Bluerose family? The one in the striking red dress?"

"Ah yes, I've heard about the distinguished Alea, who intentionally wears the red dress to set herself apart from her sister. That must mean her twin, the one in the elegant blue dress, is the ordinary one. Their resemblance is so uncanny that even with the distinct colors, it's challenging to tell them apart. However, the vibrancy of the red captures my attention, naturally drawing my gaze toward the talented sister."

"Alea Bluerose, the prodigious gem of the esteemed Bluerose lineage. She exudes both cuteness and charm. Well, the same could be said of her sibling, but she appears more like a mere reflection. A shadow cast by her sister's brilliance, if you will."

A shadow... A reflection of her sister... Erica had braced herself for such comments, but the words still stung, their impact no less painful despite her anticipation.

Overwhelmed by her anguish, Erica fled from the festivities, seeking solace in seclusion. She stumbled upon a room, unknowingly intruding upon a young man with dark, black hair.

"Why have you come here? And why do tears stain your face?"

"Th-They... They don't see me. No one acknowledges my presence. They all favor my sister," she confessed, her voice quivering with the weight of her emotions. "I couldn't bear to remain in their presence any longer."

In this moment of vulnerability, Erica found herself pouring her heart out to a stranger. But instead of feeling embarrassment, she discovered a surprising sense of comfort within his comforting presence.

Sensing her distress, the young man asked, "Do you happen to play chess?"

Taken aback by the question, Erica hesitated before responding, "I... I don't. My sister is quite skilled, but I possess no such talent."

Perceiving Erica's apprehension, the young man pressed on with his inquiry, undeterred. "But surely you possess some knowledge of the game, don't you?"

Erica, taken aback by his persistence, hesitated momentarily before responding, her voice laced with uncertainty. "Well, yes... I do have some knowledge of chess."

"That's all we need. You see, in the game of chess, the true value lies not in the strength of individual pieces like the rook or the queen, but in the king himself. Despite its limited range of movement, the king is the piece that matters most. And in the grand scheme of life, you are the protagonist, the main character in your own story. Just as the king holds tremendous value on the chessboard, so too do you hold immeasurable worth in your own journey."

Though his words might have seemed perplexing at first, Erica could discern the underlying message. He was telling her that she was the most valuable piece in her own life's narrative.

It was in that instant that she realized she had fallen for him.

Returning to the bustling hall, Erica's cheeks flushed with a newfound warmth. Alea approached her, curiosity lacing her words. "Where have you been?"

"Uh... I-I was in the bathroom," Erica stammered, hoping her sudden infatuation would go unnoticed.

"Thank goodness you're back. The earl's son is about to make his entrance," Alea informed her, scanning the room eagerly.

Erica's eyes darted around, desperately searching for a glimpse of the boy who had offered her solace and sparked an unexpected connection. However, he was nowhere to be found, as if he had vanished into thin air.

Curiosity piqued, Alea inquired, "Who are you looking for?"

"Oh, uh... No one in particular," Erica replied, attempting to conceal her longing.

"Listen, I don't want you to make a fool of yourself. This is our chance to catch a glimpse of the prodigious son of the Earl of Lambhart. So, please, don't go doing anything strange or embarrassing, alright?"

"I-I won't do anything like that! Especially not in a place like this!"

As the announcement rang through the hall, signaling the arrival of the Earl's son, Erica's eyes widened in anticipation. And then, her gaze fell upon him, causing her cheeks to flush with a sudden blush.

"So, this is the renowned child of the Lambhart lineage. They say he possesses such exceptional talent that even the greatest chess players have acknowledged him. Perhaps I should engage him in conversation and challenge him to a game. A clash of prodigies, if you will. Doesn't the thought of your sister triumphing over this prodigy intrigue you, Erica?"

However, when Alea turned to her sister, she found Erica lost in a trance, her gaze fixated on Cian with a heated intensity.

"Erica?"

Breaking free from her reverie, Erica's voice quivered as she confessed, "I-I think... I think I'm in love..."

"What?!" Alea exclaimed, her astonishment evident.

With Cian's introduction complete, the party swung into full motion. The atmosphere was alive with laughter, music, and the joyful chatter of the guests. As the celebration unfolded, several girls in attendance gathered the courage to approach Cian and request a dance. Though he obliged, his compliance seemed tinged with a hint of reluctance. Alea, seizing the opportunity, engaged him in conversation as well, eager to make her mark on the prodigious young man.

However, amidst the whirl of festivities, Erica found herself on the periphery, watching as others took their turn dancing with Cian. Time slipped away, and she remained unnoticed, longing for a chance to be in his presence.

•••••

Erica gradually awakened, finding herself nestled on the balcony, the gentle caress of the wind coaxing her into slumber. As she emerged from her reverie, fragments of a dream danced at the edges of her consciousness—a dream that hinted at the first interaction between her and Cian.

Casting her gaze about, Erica realized that Cian, the very person who had promised to retrieve a chessboard for their match, had yet to return.

With a heart that seemed to thunder within her chest, Erica rose from her seat, resolving to venture back into the grand manor. As she crossed the threshold, her attention was suddenly drawn to something amiss—an out-of-place vase with flowers. It stood askew, as if displaced from its natural position.

Driven by curiosity, Erica approached the vase and carefully realigned it to its proper orientation. Yet, as she did so, a distinct click resounded in the air—a sound reminiscent of a door being unlocked.

Her heart quickened its rhythm, pounding against her chest. Had she inadvertently triggered something? An anxious thought fluttered through her mind. Had she broken something of value?

'I cannot afford to break anything here, especially if this house holds significance to my beloved,' Erica thought with a hint of apprehension.

With that notion firmly planted in her mind, she pivoted on her heels and began to distance herself from the peculiarly positioned vase. Little did she realize that her unwitting action had opened the metaphorical Pandora's box. The well-guarded secrets, concealed even from Cian, were on the brink of being unveiled.

The truths about his birth, the carefully hidden secrets his father had kept tucked away, would soon come to light—not immediately, but in due time, like a time bomb ticking away towards its inevitable explosion.