Part 1 – The Ghost of a Sister
Seven years old. That awkward age—too old to be adorable, not old enough to be useful.
Which meant my value in the manor had quietly shifted from "ornament" to "furniture."
That's when I met her.
Elena.
The Duke's niece. My cousin. The daughter of my father's late brother.
If I was cursed, she was forgotten.
She lived in the manor too, but her world was nothing like mine. No silk sheets, no crystal cradles. Her quarters were hidden behind the east wing, in a drafty room with peeling plaster and a window that rattled in the wind like old bones.
She was my age, pale and thin, with ink-stained fingers from scribbling in stolen ledgers. She wasn't allowed at feasts. She wasn't introduced to nobles. Half the time, people forgot she existed at all.
And yet, when I stumbled across her one night, sneaking bread from the kitchen with the stealth of a mouse, she didn't flinch at the sight of me.
She just tilted her head, her dark eyes steady, and said:
"Ah. The cursed heir."
"…And you are?"
"The useless cousin."
We stared at each other for a long moment. Then we both laughed—not joyfully, but bitterly, quietly. Two children already too old for their years.
That night, I realized something important: I wasn't the only ghost haunting this house.
Part 2 – The Half-Sister
Then came the parade.
The Emperor and my mother's "new family" swept into the manor like a conquering army. Guards, maids, musicians, banners—all to showcase the jewel of their visit: my half-sister, the Princess.
She was two years younger than me, still waddling in lace dresses, but she already had an entourage that treated her like the Empire's rising sun.
And my mother? She carried her in her arms, smiling like a goddess carved in stained glass. The same woman who never once touched me.
And me?
I stood in the corner like a misplaced vase, drooling on cue, while nobles whispered how "noble blood ran purer in the Princess's veins."
When her bright little eyes met mine, she tilted her head curiously, as if wondering why the strange doll in the corner wasn't smiling back.
That was when I decided: if she was the sun, then I would be the eclipse.
Part 3 – The Demi-Human Servant
Around this time, I also met her.
Mira.
A demi-human girl with wolf ears, slightly older than me. She had been brought in as a servant after her village was "pacified" by the Empire. Which, in practice, meant her family was dead, her people scattered, and she was now a prize of war.
Her duties were endless: carrying laundry too heavy for her small frame, fetching firewood until her arms shook, pouring milk into cups with bows so stiff her spine must have screamed.
The other servants mocked her ears. Called her "beast." Called her "mutt."
One evening, I caught her crouched behind the stables, eating scraps off a plate like a starving stray. When our eyes met, she froze—trembling, certain I'd run to the butler.
Instead, I held out half my biscuit.
"…Why?" she whispered.
"Because I don't like eating alone."
She stared at me as if I'd grown horns. Then, slowly, she took the biscuit, her hands shaking as she bit into it.
That night, she swore to serve me properly—not as a maid, but as someone who owed me a life debt.
I shrugged. "Fine. But don't expect me to train you. I'm seven. I still can't tie my own belt."
She smiled faintly anyway. And that was when I realized something: loyalty isn't bought. It's earned in crumbs.
Part 4 – The First Tutor Who Mattered
The Emperor sent me plenty of useless tutors, but eventually one arrived who was… different.
Kael.
An old swordsman, scarred and half-blind in one eye. On paper, he was a failure. Too old, too injured, too bitter to be of use anywhere else.
But Kael was sharp in ways that mattered.
Within a week, he saw through my drooling act.
"You're not stupid," he muttered one afternoon after I deliberately tripped over a parry. "You're hiding. Why?"
I gave him my best dumb smile. "Because I like being useless."
He didn't laugh. Didn't scold. Just smirked.
"Good. Then I'll train you in secret. If the world thinks you're useless, at least make sure you're dangerous while you're at it."
And just like that, I had my first real mentor.
Part 5 – The Trio
By the time I turned ten, I had gathered a strange little circle:
Leo, the butler's son—my partner in schemes, quick with gossip and quicker with loyalty.
Elena, the forgotten cousin—sharp as knives, scribbling in ledgers and spotting things even I missed.
Mira, the demi-human servant—quiet, watchful, carrying the weight of loyalty heavier than any tray of dishes.
And then there was Kael, who had decided to forge me into something sharper than any noble's ornament.
We weren't nobles. We weren't soldiers. We weren't anything impressive.
Just scraps. Misfits. Shadows.
But together, we made a promise.
One day, when the Emperor's chokehold slipped, when the governors bled the land dry, when the world least expected it—
We would take it back.
Part 6 – The Spark of Rebellion
That night, I sat by the window, watching the Crimson Moon rise again.
Seven years old. A cursed heir. Surrounded by ghosts, bastards, and servants who barely survived.
The Empire thought they had broken the Duke's line. My mother thought she had erased me with neglect. The tutors thought I was too stupid to matter.
But in the dark, with the moon burning red above me, I smiled bitterly.
The nursery wasn't a prison. It was an incubator.
And one day, the shadows they ignored would grow teeth.