“Huh? There’s no birthday party for me?”

“I’m terribly sorry. Melissa, your birthday happens to fall on the same day as Amelia’s parents’ death anniversary. Per the master’s decision, this year, as it marks the first anniversary, we will be observing mourning out of respect for Amelia’s feelings.”

Melissa, who would be turning eleven next month, had naturally assumed there would be a birthday party. She had just handed a list of friends and acquaintances she wished to invite to the steward.

“But six months ago, Amelia’s tenth birthday was celebrated grandly…”

“I’m very sorry. This was the master’s decision.”

Melissa understood that there was no point in arguing with the steward. She knew that, yet she couldn’t stop herself from speaking—it was the only way to suppress the pain that felt as though it was carving into her heart.

Just a year ago, she had been celebrated with a grand party as a potential fiancée for the second prince.

It wasn’t just that there would be no party this year. What hurt more than anything was that her father had not even mentioned it, let alone offered an apology. The pain of being ignored nearly brought tears to her eyes in front of the steward.

She felt the stark difference between now and the birthday she had celebrated a year ago. And so, Melissa pondered the changes that had occurred over the past year.

Melissa was the daughter of Duke Johnston. As a candidate for the second prince Christopher’s fiancée, she had been attending the royal castle since the age of six to receive lessons in etiquette, history, and other subjects. As a duke’s daughter and a future princess consort, she strove to appear strong to those around her. But in reality, Melissa was timid and shy. She loved playing the piano more than anything, and she often wished she could say, I want to spend more time playing the piano instead of attending princess consort training.

Her mother, Vanessa, had passed away from illness three years ago when Melissa was seven. Vanessa had always been kind and smiling, with a warmth that naturally brightened those around her. Not only Melissa but also her father, older brother, and even her grandmother had adored her. After Vanessa’s death, the family had consisted of Melissa, her father, her brother, and her grandmother.

That changed shortly after Melissa’s tenth birthday, when her maternal cousin, Amelia, who had lost both parents, was taken in by the Johnston family.

Although they should now be a family of five, Melissa still felt as though they were a family of four—except now, she was the one left out. Her father, brother, grandmother, and Amelia—the four of them felt like a true family.

Amelia had the same golden hair and rose-red eyes as Vanessa, resembling a charming kitten that anyone would find adorable. Although naturally cheerful, Amelia would sometimes suddenly recall her parents’ deaths and fall into sorrow. Her vulnerability drew people to her even more.

As if her natural charm weren’t enough, Amelia’s resemblance to Vanessa made the Johnston family’s affection for her exceptional. After Vanessa’s passing, the household had been shrouded in grief, but caring for Amelia, who had also lost her family, seemed to help them regain some of their lost warmth.

Melissa’s father, Duke Elias Johnston, was a handsome man with silver hair and blue eyes. Her brother, Patrick, one year older than her, had silver hair and red eyes. Her grandmother, Ada, was an elegant older woman with silver hair and blue eyes.

In contrast, Melissa had only inherited her father’s and grandmother’s blue eyes. Her hair was an unremarkable brown, common among commoners, neither the silver of her paternal family nor the golden-red hues of her mother.

Before Amelia arrived, Melissa had believed she was well-loved by her father and brother. They were both reserved men, not the type to openly express affection, but she had felt secure in their quiet care. Looking back, however, she realized that during her mother’s lifetime, they had always been with her. Perhaps their love for her was merely a reflection of their love for her mother.

Watching her father and brother dote on Amelia, Melissa couldn’t help but notice the difference in how they treated her. She told herself it was inevitable—after all, they saw Amelia as an extension of their feelings for her mother.

Melissa and Amelia were the same age, with Melissa’s birthday coming half a year earlier. When Amelia first arrived, Melissa had sympathized with her orphaned cousin and, like the rest of the family, had taken care of her. But over time, she began to feel uneasy.

The first thing that unsettled her was the nickname “Mel.”

Melissa had always been called “Mel” by her family. Even her mother had used it affectionately.

About a month after Amelia arrived, their father called out, “Mel.”

Hearing this, Amelia’s expression crumbled, on the verge of tears. “My father and mother also used to call me ‘Mel’…” she murmured.

Her brother responded, “Melissa still has Father and me, but Amelia no longer has parents to call her ‘Mel.’ You can give her the name, right?”

From that day on, “Mel” belonged to Amelia.

Every time Melissa heard her family call Amelia “Mel,” she felt as if her place in the household was disappearing.

And the discomfort didn’t stop there.

At mealtimes, Melissa found herself excluded from conversations.

Their father and brother were naturally quiet, their grandmother mostly a listener, and Melissa herself was reserved. When her mother was alive, she had been the one to liven up the table. Now, Amelia had taken that role.

After her mother’s death, Melissa had tried her best to keep the dinner conversations going, feeling it was her responsibility. Yet, her father and brother, who had always been reserved with her, now eagerly engaged in lively conversations with Amelia.

Melissa admired Amelia’s effortless sociability, something she had never been able to achieve. But then she noticed something—Amelia never once directed the conversation toward her.

In fact, Amelia subtly steered the discussions in a way that left Melissa out entirely.

At first, Melissa convinced herself it was just her imagination. But there was no denying it—she spoke even less with her family now than before Amelia had arrived.