Fifteen years ago, when five-year-old Felix had just moved into Vosrodar Manor, he still called that man Father.
Although he did not get to wear a splendid little dress like he had imagined, nor become the little princess of his dreams, and instead had his hair cut short and was subjected to the strictest noble education, Felix quickly adapted to his new life. Young as he was, he could not yet understand the mockery in the servants' eyes or the impatience in his teachers' voices. Everything in the manor was so new, and every day was so happy.
Like a wild child, he charged all over the manor every day, climbing trees and going down to the lake, getting himself filthy from play. He also loved secretly watching Dimi's lessons—horseback riding, Sword Art, piano, painting... Aside from meals, Felix never saw Dimi resting. Once, he climbed up a tree to shoot sparrows and called for Dimi, who was passing by, to come up and play too. Felix always felt that when Dimi waved and refused, a trace of envy flashed through his eyes.
But Dimi also had something Felix envied, because when Father returned, he only checked Dimi's homework. Felix hid outside the window of the Study, watching Father pick out dozens of areas for improvement from Dimi's near-perfect results. There was not a single word of praise, only endless criticism. Back then, he felt both pity and envy toward this unfamiliar elder brother... because Father, at least, cared about Dimi.
Only when someone cared about you did you count as something. Otherwise, you were nothing at all.
To attract Father's attention, Felix was especially naughty over the next few days. He drew grimaces on the statue, pulled out the most precious flowers in the garden, and climbed onto the