Chapter 1.1

Aria was the perfect older sister. Rosaline was the flawed younger one.

Cruel, how genetics worked. On the surface, the sisters looked nearly identical, but inside, they couldn’t have been more different. Where Aria was kind and gentle, Rosaline was sharp-edged, tangled in her own temperament, and consumed by envy.

A contradiction, really, considering Rosaline was the healthy one, the one with a long life ahead of her. Aria had lived with a heart condition since childhood but never once lost her smile. Rosaline, meanwhile, with not a single ailment to speak of, often looked at people like they were beneath her.

So when even he fell for Aria… well, it was only natural.

* * *

That man.

The man both Aria and Rosaline knew well. Heir to the most powerful ducal house in the nation.

After the late Duke of Aphlenta passed, the title went not to Synox but to his older half‑brother, a son born out of wedlock. Yet everyone believed Synox Aphlenta to be the true master of the house.

He had many titles, but one stuck more than the others.

A once-in-a-century genius, destined to inherit the Ivory Tower. A born mage who used his power to heal the poor. A saint of Aphlenta.

Rosaline, in her quietest moments, always added one more.

Her first love.

The House of Count Rensier—Aria and Rosaline’s noble family—wasn’t wealthy, but it was old and respected. Through that lineage, they held ties with several ancient houses, Aphlenta among them.

Because Aria and Synox were close in age, the late duke often brought his son along on visits to House Rensier.

The two became fast friends. Aria had always been kind and warm, and Synox, even as a child, had been too calm, too poised for his years.

People are drawn to likeness, after all.

Yes, that must’ve been it.

So then… why had Rosaline Rensier, the sister who shared none of their temperament, fallen for Synox Aphlenta?

The contradiction stung, even to herself. Sometimes she asked the question aloud in her head.

Why did I fall in love with him?

She didn’t remember the day she first fell in love, but she remembered the day she stepped into the mire.

It had been nearly a year since the late Duke Aphlenta passed.

No longer accompanied by his father, Synox still visited the Rensier estate, almost always to speak with Aria.

When Aria napped, weakened by illness, he would wander the estate gardens.

So Rosaline would dress in her best whenever he visited. She’d walk the grounds like it was an ordinary day, pretending her efforts weren’t obvious.

Sometimes, if luck was kind, she’d cross paths with him.

That day, she was lucky.

“Lord Synox.”

Rosaline had been resting inside the garden’s glass greenhouse when she saw him pass.

She opened the door and called his name. Synox turned toward her.

“Miss Rosaline Rensier.”

Despite the sisters’ uncanny resemblance, people often confused them from a distance. Yet Synox never had.

He strode toward the greenhouse, long legs carrying him with a grace that outpaced most men. With each step, his silver‑blond hair caught the sunlight, so pale it was almost white. A hallmark of the Aphlenta bloodline.

He stopped before her.

Though Rosaline stood on the stone platform at the entrance, and Synox stood below, their eyes were nearly level.